Plan B

Takara Satori sat in a doctor’s office. He was sitting on a rubber mattress. White bandages were wrapped around his head. His handsome black suit was reduced to wearing his undershirt and a pair of loaned sweatpants. His suit, pants, and precious powder blue tie, a gift from his late father, were lost.

If Satori was in a musing mood, he’d marvel at how much he missed that tie. This morning, he hadn’t even realized he’d put it on. He was not in such a mood.

Sitting on a cheap office chair, in front of Satori, was a petite young woman in a white coat. Her name badge read Dr. Kurosawa. She was a 3rd-year Resident at Kyoto General, the Hospital the heroes had taken Satori and their wounded fellows to. She had just finished wrapping Satori’s bandages and now was making some notes on her chart.

Behind Dr. Kurosawa, stood a man in a white T-shirt and faded jeans. An unlit cigarette hung from the man’s mouth. His hair was unkempt. A sword was strapped to his side. He’d introduced himself as ‘Smokin’ Sexy,’ an underground hero and the mentor of the young man standing outside. The young man who’d used an oni’s head to swallow Satori whole.

Satori shuddered.

Satori shook his head. He’d fainted at that sight. Being swallowed alive hadn’t done it. Pissing himself while he imagined himself falling into a vat of stomach acid, hadn’t done it. Seeing a pair of red eyes had.

That Satori had passed out looking at his savior hadn’t been the best part about today. Though, to be fair to him, what the fuck had that kid been thinking?! How could he save someone like that? Satori’d been convinced he’d been eaten alive!

“Hrm.” The young doctor frowned. She looked at his file with confusion. As if she tried to confirm her file was accurate, only to find a contradiction.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry, your medical records seem incomplete. We don’t have your quirk registered.”

Satori sighed. “I’m quirkless.”

“Oh, oh! ...huh?” Dr. Kurosawa focused on his chart again. Satori knew what was confusing her. He didn’t have to see the old X-ray image on her screen. It’d confused every doctor who saw his file.

99.9999999999% of the time, quirkless individuals had two joints in their pinky toe. That .0000000001% exception was Satori. He was born quirkless AND without that vestigial joint. He was born a freak among freaks.

“… you got tested?” Kurosawa ventured. Her medical training was at odds with the information in front of her. Satori’d been down this path more than once. It didn’t bother him anymore.

“Yes, by the best in the nation.” Satori droned. That wasn’t true. The best in the nation was Dr. Saraki, but Satori wasn’t stupid enough to ask that barely functional psychopath. He HAD seen someone in the top 10 though.

“I understand.” Kurosawa smiled faintly.

‘There it is.’ Satori thought. ‘The pity.’

Satori couldn’t stand pity. At least when he was a kid, he was only victimized for being quirkless. He could take the bullying. He couldn’t take it when people acted like he was disabled because he didn't have a quirk. What was this doctor’s quirk anyway?! Could she scream at a frequency only audible to dogs?! Could she turn into a fucking spray bottle?! How the Hell was he disabled next to quirks like THAT?!

… Next to the pros, everyone was disabled.

Satori’s gaze slid towards the hero in the room. ‘Smokin’ Sexy’ is a shitty name for a shitty hero. Satori’d never even heard of him before today and yet… he’d seen what the man could do with his quirk. When he’d regained consciousness the hero was controlling a thick fog of smoke. The smoke provided cover for the EMTs; just in case the sniper that had wounded Floor was still out there.

Unless you could do something like that, what good was your fucking quirk?!

“Well, I think you’re good to go,” Kurosawa concluded brightly. She was unaware of Satori’s internal seething. “You have a concussion, but it’s not severe enough to keep you overnight, and so long as the Hero Association monitors you I see no reason to keep you here.”

Satori frowned at that. The doctor sounded like she was eager to get rid of him. Was it because he’d just been targeted by a villain? Bitch.

“Satori-san?”

“That’s fine, I’m eager to get home.”

Smokin’ Sexy cleared his throat. “Uh, probably not.”

“Excuse me?!” Satori questioned. Then… he remembered. He was supposed to meet with Midas today. Did the hero association really expect the meeting to go through after everything he’d been through?!

Smokin’ Sexy flashed Kurosawa a smile. “I’m sorry would you mind stepping out?”

Dr. Kurosawa blushed slightly at that smile but graciously excused herself. Satori was appalled. Smokin’ Sexy was certainly good-looking if you liked the strung-out rocker look. However, he should not be causing a prim and proper doctor to blush like a schoolgirl.

Satori hoped the blush was just because Smokin’ Sexy happened to be a pro hero; otherwise, there was no hope for straight women.

As the blushing doctor left the room, Satori caught sight of the figure standing outside his door. The young man who’d saved him. His red goggles hanging around his neck, and a little black dragon perched on his shoulder. The young boy looked above Satori’s head as he often had since Satori had regained consciousness. He frowned.

Satori couldn't read that boy's frown. It was not a pitying frown; Satori knew those well. It was the kind of frown Satori saw on students when Ao was on one of those horrible classroom visits. The frown only worn by those actually paying attention to her bull shit lecture. What was it? Curiosity?

The door closed.

“You’re not going home.”

Satori stared at the pro hero blankly.

“What?” His voice trembled. Were—were they still going to put him through that meeting with Midas?! Hadn’t Midas JUST tried to kill him?!

“You’re being put into witsec immediately.” Ryusei clarified.

Satori’s mind went blank.

“The HA is 90% sure the Five were contracted by the Night Parade to put you down. That means you’re compromised. Even if you weren’t before. You were as soon as Floor was forced to reveal himself. Your continued cooperation is no longer necessary. Also, in light of the recent attempt on your life, we need to get you out of Kyoto ASAP.”

“Then…” Satori whispered. “Why aren’t you dropping me?”

“Uh, fuzzy on the details,” Ryusei admitted. “Impakt testified on your behalf, but I also heard they caught an internal leak. If it’s their fault, they can’t cut you loose legally (tip your lawyer for that witsec agreement by the by). Any other questions?”

Satori frowned. He did have one more. “You said 90% sure.”

“The other 10% is that your boss hired the hit.”

That cut Satori. He had felt that Ao had been crueler recently. If she found out about his affair with her husband… he could see her ordering the hit. She wasn’t a clean woman. She’d never balked at the idea of dirt under her nails. He’d respected her for it. However, the idea that the woman he’d served for 20+ years now knew how completely he’d betrayed her caused a sudden surge of emotion.

Satori swallowed it down. He didn’t want to cry, not in front of a hero.

“Whenever you’re ready. We’ll head out to the lobby. The HA should have two agents waiting there.

Satori didn’t wait. He didn’t nod. He stood immediately and walked towards the door. No more! He’d get on that plane! He’d get to Okinawa! He’d get out! He’d live his second life with no regrets!

He opened the door and slammed into the young hero waiting outside. Embarrassingly, the young man didn’t move under the weight of Satori’s impact. Satori instead stumbled back. He nearly fell on his butt before Smokin’ Sexy caught him by the shoulder and helped him back to his feet.

“S-sorry.” Satori stammered.

The young man shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” He looked over Satori’s shoulder at Smokin’ Sexy. “We ready?”

“Just as soon as Satori-san is.” Smokin’ Sexy confirmed.

Satori stood there for a strange moment as two heroes waited for his word. His word would be the end of his life in Kyoto. He’d be taken to the lobby, handed over to HA agents, flown to Okinawa, and then live again. His voice caught in his throat once. He felt blessed. Just how many people could say they had a second chance?

All it took was almost dying horribly.

…

… when you thought about it like that, he didn’t sound so blessed.

“Let’s go.” Satori sighed.

The young man didn’t move. He was studying the air above Satori’s head. “May I help you?” Satori asked.

“What’s your quirk?” The young man asked without the slightest bit of tact.

“Chris!”

“I don’t have one.” Satori bit irritably. With that, he pushed passed the young man. His attempt to shoulder check the cad just left his arm feeling numb. Some people!

---

Christopher Cain followed after Satori-san, perplexed. Ryusei came to his side and hissed in his ear.

“Dammit Christopher! Do I need to buy you a dictionary so you can look up what tact is?!”

Christopher ignored Ryusei for a moment. He frowned as he continued to study the air above Satori’s head with Search Eye. There, blurry white text floated. He couldn’t read it, but the text was there. Quirkless individuals didn’t have blurry text. They had no text at all.

“I think he has a quirk,” Christopher whispered.

“… what?” Ryusei whispered in return. He looked at Satori’s back incredulously. “Why would he lie about not having one?”

Christopher shook his head. He didn’t know. Maybe… maybe Satori didn’t either.

---

The lobby of Kyoto General was packed to the gills as it always was on Saturday Afternoons. Salarymen wore masks and lulled in their chair as the illness that threatened to be the end of them all week finally became too much to bear. Families clustered around sick children. Ronin slept in chairs as they waited for their names to be called. And there, near the glass front doors, sat two teenagers.

The first teenager was dressed in a black T-shirt and blue jeans. He wore a bandage around his head and held an ice pack to his mouth. His blond hair was slick with sweat, but his eyes sparkled in triumph. This was Bobby Samson, though, when in uniform, he went by Sunlight Man.

The second teenager was dressed in bright red armor. His visored helmet lay on his lap. There was a sword propped against his shoulder. His shaggy black hair, usually spiked, hung limply around his ears. This was Challenger, though out of uniform, he went by Hifumi Takeda.

“Is my mom okay?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, she sounded fine anyway,” Hifumi confirmed. “I couldn’t open my eyes, but she wasn’t freaking out or anything. She asked if you needed an extra toothbrush.”

“Sounds like her.” Bobby smiled.

“Any updates on Floor-senpai?”

“He’s out of surgery. The Doctor says he can be discharged any time.”

“Really?! He was shot in the gut!”

“With an {AP} round,” Bobby said as if that explained everything.

“… Explain it to me like I wasn’t raised in a country with more guns than people.”

“Uh, {Armor Piercing}, metal killing? I don’t know the right word in Japanese. It’s a bullet designed with a pointed tip. It maximizes penetration. However, because of the design, it doesn’t do as much damage to someone when it hits. Like a {full metal jacke}-- normal round might’ve cut him in half, but the {AP} went through and through. It DID hit the liver, but the Doctor said that organ is easy to heal.”

“Lucky!” Hifumi exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Bobby quietly agreed. It wasn’t luck. He knew who fired that shot. It was the son of a bitch that tangled with his dad numerous times with nothing more than a gun and his wits.

If Desolator had wanted Floor dead, Floor’d be in the morgue.

“You okay bro? You went pale.”

“I’m fine.” Bobby lied.

The idea of Floor’s life being at the mercy of another made Bobby feel ill. Hifumi too. Desolator could’ve killed his friend at any time. Hifumi wouldn't have even heard the shot.

Maybe… maybe even Bobby was a beneficiary of the villain’s inexplicable mercy. It was early morning, and he was by no means fully charged. That meant Desolator had three targets he could’ve killed at any time, and he chose to just wound one of them.

Why?

As Bobby pondered the eccentricities of a mass murderer, the Hospital doors slid open. They revealed a pair of suit-wearing gentlemen whose every movement, glance, and accessory screamed the words ‘federal agent.’

One was a tall man with bright blue eyes and slicked-back black hair. He wore a tailored suit. It did nothing to hide the fact he was built like a brick shit house. Bobby had seen pros with a worse physique. He seemed to know who Bobby was immediately. He nodded to his partner and pointed the pair of interns out.

His partner, in contrast, was an ancient tottering man with silver hair and brown eyes. Long years of public service seemed to weigh on his shoulders. His face stretched into long folds of loose skin. Bobby was shocked the man hadn't retired already. When his partner pointed the boys out, he only gave a weary nod and walked over.

“Might you be Challenger and Sunlight Man?” The older agent asked.

Hifumi stood and gave a slight bow in greeting. “Yes, and you are?”

Bobby began to follow suit, but the younger agent held up a hand to forestall his formalities. “Don’t get up. I’m Agent Seki. This is agent Suzuki. We’re with the Hero Association here to take custody of Satori-san.”

Bobby’s ears tingled at the man’s voice. There was something… familiar about that voice. Something buried in his memories. Did he know this man?

“… ah, may I see your identification?” Hifumi asked.

Suzuki sighed like he was exhausted by the mere request. Seki already had his wallet out, like he was expecting the question. Hifumi accepted the wallet with a bow. He examined the card. Satisfied, he returned the wallet to Seki and repeated the process with Suzuki.

While Hifumi examined Suzuki’s ID, Seki glanced at Bobby. A flash of familiarity showed in the man’s blue eyes.

{“Have we met?”} Bobby asked, unintentionally slipping into English. He started to stammer an apology.

“S-sorry, I--”

{“I’m afraid not.”} Seki responded without skipping a beat. Bobby was relieved he hadn’t just babbled to a stranger in a foreign language. {“I had the honor of working with your parents on a few occasions.”}

{“You worked with my dad?”}

{“And your mother.”} Seki gently corrected. {“I was part of a liaison program with the US’s Hero Agency.”}

{“Ah.”} Bobby deflated. So that was all it was? He’d probably heard the man’s voice during one of his dad’s interviews. The fact that the man worked with his parents wasn’t unique or exciting. He’d met a lot of people claiming the same connection. They’d never bothered to help or do more than tell him how great a man his dad was.

Seki smiled. {“I read the preliminary report of your encounter on the way here incidentally.”}

{“Yeah?”} Bobby responded unenthusiastically. He was probably about to hear what his dad would’ve done in his place--

{“Your father would be proud.”}

“…”

Bobby’s brain stopped working for a full ten seconds at that. He’d heard his mom say the same, but it hit differently when a stranger said it.

{“Thanks.”} Bobby finally manged.

Seki merely nodded as if he’d done nothing more than convey a fact. Bobby smiled wide.

“This looks to be in order,” Hifumi concluded. Bobby jumped at the sound of his friend’s voice.

Suzuki restrained a yawn as he retrieved his wallet from the youth. “Can you take us to Satori then?”

“I—”

“Won’t be necessary.” A voice cut through Hifumi’s response. Bobby looked to his left. There, just entering the lobby, came Smokin’ Sexy, Chris, and a visibly upset Satori.

Smokin’ Sexy smiled ingratiatingly at the two agents. Suzuki acknowledged his existence with a slight ‘hrmph,’ and Seki gave him a small bow.

Satori swallowed as he looked at the agents. He looked to be a man who fully understood what those agents represented. A gateway to his new life.

Chris… Chris stared at Seki like he saw someone he thought he should know.

Seki avoided looking at Chris.

“Satori-san.” Seki began, bowing. “If you’ll come with us, we’ll--”

“Can I see your ID?” Chris interrupted.

“Chris…”

“I already checked.” Hifumi intervened.

“… can I check again?” Chris insisted, his eyes glued to Seki.

Seki met his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course!” He handed over his wallet. Chris looked at the ID closely. Bobby frowned. Chris hadn’t so much as glanced at Suzuki. What was with him and Seki--

Bobby looked at Seki. He caught a flash of something in Seki’s eyes. Something like… rage. The flash was so fast that Bobby was convinced he'd just imagined it.

Chris studied the ID longer than Hifumi did with a frown. “I’m going to need to call the hero agency.”

“Come on! Is that really--” Suzuki began.

“Is there a problem?” Seki asked with some concern.

“Just give me a moment.” Chris pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory.

Hifumi sidled close to Bobby. “What’s with Chris?” He asked in a whisper.

“How should I know? He's your friend.” Bobby snapped.

“Right, but you looked like you saw something too.”

Bobby frowned as he studied Seki’s face. Seki was watching Christopher with undisguised concern. Not the look of someone worried his cover was blown and his freedom was in jeopardy. It was the look of someone worried he'd have to take time out of his day to get his ID reissued because of a typo no one else caught. There was nothing of that rage Bobby’d seen earlier.

“I dunno,” Bobby confessed. “Think I imagined it.”

“What’d you imagine then?” Hifumi whispered.

“Thought he looked way too pissed off when Chris asked to see his ID.”

“… did he when I asked?”

“No.”

“Maybe it’s just that he was asked twice.”

“Hello,” Chris spoke into his phone. “I’m calling to confirm the identity of one of your agents. Tanjiro Seki.”

“Maybe.” Bobby conceded. It was a reasonable thing to get pissed off about.

Smokin’ Sexy was no longer looking annoyed at Chris. He was watching Seki like a hawk. It was like a switch had been flipped when Chris insisted. He went from exasperated to on alert.

“At Kyoto General. Yes. 187cm. Yes. Blue eyes. Yes. 95kg. Yes.”

Satori looked increasingly perturbed as Chris went through what he must’ve thought was a meaningless checklist.

“One moment.” Chris put the phone to his chest. “Can you tell me your ID number?”

“922,” Seki answered without a moment’s hesitation.

Chris frowned as he listened to the response on the other end of the line. For a moment, he didn’t move. He just stared at Seki as if praying the man would slip up. Seki didn’t crack. Chris had nothing left to ask.

Chris sighed as he handed the wallet back to Seki. “Thank you.” He addressed the operator and then hung up.

Smokin’ Sexy relaxed. Satori gave an irritated sigh. Suzuki grumbled. Seki gave a slight bow as he retrieved his wallet.

When Chris didn’t immediately apologize, still absorbed in studying Seki’s face, as if he were to match the man against some invisible database. Smokin’ Sexy stepped in.

“Sorry about that, I taught the kid to be cautious.”

“Wise.” Seki smiled. There wasn’t even the shadow of the rage Bobby’d seen earlier. Maybe he had just imagined it.

“Fucking finally.” Suzuki hissed.

“Satori-san? Are you ready?” Seki asked.

---

Satori stood there a moment, glued to the floor. Was he? Could he really finally start a new life? It felt like a dream.

“… Satori-san?”

“Yes,” Satori whispered. “I think I am.” He walked towards the agents. They turned towards the door to usher him towards his new life. As Satori stepped between the two, he looked back one last time. He looked at Bobby, then Hifumi, even Christopher, and Ryusei. Despite how they’d saved him, they had saved him. Had he never met them, he'd be dead.

“Thank you.” With that, he walked out the doors. The agents followed close behind. Satori stepped out of the Hospital into a new world. The same sun still shone, but the colors seemed brighter. There was nothing to be scared of now. There was no meeting with Midas. No assassins after his head. He was free.

“You can have the front seat Satori-san.” Seki prodded from behind him. He pointed at a black sedan parked next to the curb. The curb was supposed to be used for emergency loading and offloading only. An ambulance swerved around the car and came to a stop 4 meters down.

If the heroes had known about this parking job, maybe they wouldn’t have delayed Satori’s second chance as long as they had. Satori hurried into the passenger seat. Suzuki made his way to the driver’s seat. Seki sat behind Satori.

The interior of the car was upholstered in handsome white leather. It had that new car smell that drove men wild. The floor was pristine. As Satori sidled into his seat. He was pleased to note the seat was heated. He sighed in relief.

Satori leaned his head back, only to find the headrest hitting the crown of his head. He reached up and tried to adjust it, but the latch didn’t move.

“Erm,” Satori grumbled as he continued to fiddle with the headrest.

“My apologies Satori-san.” Seki intoned. He grabbed the top of the headrest and forced it down. With an earsplitting shriek, the headrest moved down a fraction of a centimeter. Satori clamped his hands over his ears.

“The damn thing’s broken.” Seki smiled.

“O-okay,” Satori responded timidly.

Suzuki put himself behind the wheel and started the engine. “We’ll be at the airport in an hour. Try to get comfortable.”

“An hour?!” Satori exclaimed. KIX was only 20 minutes away at most. ITM was maybe half an hour with traffic.

“We ain’t taking you to a major airport,” Suzuki explained. He put two fingers on the side of his own neck like he was checking for a pulse. Before Satori could mentally process the gesture, Seki jumped into the conversation.

“That’d be like advertising where you are so the Five can finish the job.”

“There’s a little place out in the mountains.”

“One terminal, good view.”

“The best view.”

“It’s mostly for agricultural planes.”

“And shit-drinking rich people.”

“Those too.”

“I think the Atsushi use it.”

“See above.”

“But between the three international airports near Kyoto--”

“If you can call NGO ‘near.’”

“—The Five will be stretched thin monitoring those, so we should be able to slip you out without them catching on.”

“Uh,” Satori’s head spun at the impromptu two-man routine Suzuki and Seki had just launched themselves into. “Do you know how long it’ll be before I’m in—”

“Nope!”

“We don’t know where you’re going.”

“Don’t wanna know.”

“Easier on us.”

“Have you SEEN what jumper cables do to testicles?!”

“I have.”

“Nightmare fuel!”

Satori dumbly tried to follow along with the banter. He wondered where this had come from? They’d seemed so tired and professional in front of the pros. … Were agents intimidated by heroes too? Did they restrain their banter so they could get out of there quickly? Or were they just more comfortable around a ‘normal’ like Satori?

That thought made Satori smile. He’d spent all day as a fish out of water, to be among regular people again… it made him feel safe. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank us,” Suzuki whispered as he pulled away from the Hospital.

“Just doing our job.” Seki finished in a cryptic tone.

---

“What was that Chris?” Ryusei questioned. They were still in the lobby. Christopher’s eyes were glued to the back of Agent Seki as he exited. The lack of white text floating above the agent’s head gave him an almost eerie feeling. He only knew a handful of quirkless people. One of those was the scariest bastard he’d ever met. But Seki was far too young to be HIM.

Still… Seki had looked so familiar. It’d set Christopher on edge.

Hifumi raised an eyebrow at Christopher’s apparent paranoia. Bobby… was looking at Agent Seki too, his face unreadable.

“I thought I recognized him.” Christopher felt Hitomi stir against his neck. She’d assumed her necklace form before meeting Bobby and Hifumi. It was a fruitless gesture. They’d seen him use Inigo’s quirk during the battle, but maybe they didn’t know or care what quirk he used.

“From where?” Hifumi asked.

“I don’t know,” Christopher grumbled.

“He said he worked with my dad.” Bobby offered. “Maybe you saw him on an old video?”

“… maybe.”

Ryusei shrugged. “Well, he checked out with the HA, didn't he? If they’re compromised, we’re fucked.”

“He’s not wrong.” Hifumi grimaced. Christopher was forced to agree.

“Alright, you kids get lunch. Imma get me a smoke.”

“That shit’ll kill you.” Christopher bit.

“So’ll my job.” Ryusei retorted. With that, he walked towards the smoker’s lounge. He left the three teenagers standing in an awkward circle. Christopher frowned.

Christopher thought of Hifumi as a friend, or at least friend adjacent. But Bobby was a friend of… admittedly, several friends. However, they were basically strangers to each other. This made for an awkward situation.

Christopher wasn't sure if he was invited to eat with Hifumi and Bobby. Bobby didn’t know if Christopher would be a third wheel or fun to have along. Hifumi had already decided they were all eating together but hadn’t figured out where yet.

“I’ll go—”

“How abo—”

“Cafeteria?”

“…” Christopher stared at Hifumi.

Bobby laughed.

“… what?” Hifumi asked, a little confused, maybe hurt. “Do you want to eat somewhere else?”

Christopher sighed. At least the decision was out of his hands. “Anywhere else.”

---

As soon as Ryusei was around the corner, he pulled out his phone. He dialed a number and let it ring. It rang twice before a weary voice answered.

“Hello?” Rosethorn greeted.

“Aiko!”

“Ryusei! How’s Chris?! Did you hear any news about Bobby?! What about Hifumi?!”

“Not a scratch on him! Bobby’s walking around. And I don’t think Hifumi got injured in the first place.”

Aiko breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“But that’s not why I called, I have a favor to ask.”

“I’m not giving you a favor just cause you did your job.” Aiko chided.

“Aiko, this’s me.”

He could feel Aiko straighten when he used the code phrase they shared with Akagi. Akagi’s face was a little hard to read beneath the makeup, so she used that phrase to let her friends know she was serious.

“What is it?”

“I need you to look up a ‘Tanjiro Seki.’”

“I’ve worked with him before.” Rosethorn relaxed. “He’s a member of the HA’s investigations department.”

“Investigations? You’re sure?”

“...yes? Why?”

“He just came here to escort my victim.”

“He could’ve been transferred…”

“Chris said he recognized him.”

“I’ll get his file.”

---

Satori watched his old world pass him by. His two companions had long since lapsed into an alert silence. Suzuki kept his eyes glued to the road. Seki kept watch on the surrounding area.

Satori was excited. He really was leaving but…. He felt a bitterness in his heart. He hated his life, but there was a person he used to care about. A person he hadn’t talked to in over a decade. A person who had no idea what was going on with his life.

“… how will people know I’m in witsec?”

“You should get a packet from your handler,” Seki answered, his eyes sliding over their surroundings as he spoke. “Part of that packet will include a list of requested contacts within your old life. You’ll be allowed supervised phone calls with a vetted list of people once a week. There’ll be some off-limit topics, but you’ll find all that out later.”

“I’m sorry, my handler?”

“A contact with the HA who’ll manage your new life.”

“Witsec doesn’t typically drop people into a new area completely blind.” Suzuki joked.

“Would be funnier if it did.”

“Imagine if we put some poor asshole in the Arctic, tossed him a shotgun, and told him to watch out for polar bears.”

“Hilarious.”

Satori didn’t find that very funny. How much did he really know about Okinawa? That there were people and fish. Did they speak Japanese? Was he going to need to learn a new dialect?

“… Is there someone you want to call?” Seki asked.

“My mom,” Satori admitted. “But I haven’t talked to her in 10 years. I don’t know how to tell her... I don’t even have my cellphone.” Satori laughed at that last. He hadn’t even noticed the accursed thing was gone.

“…” Seki was silent for a long moment. He caught Suzuki’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They seemed to share a silent conversation. Eventually, Suzuki relented.

“Fine.”

With that permission, Seki handed Satori an old flip phone. “Call her.”

“Uh,” Satori accepted the phone. “what can I tell her?”

“Whatever you want, my colleague and I have gone temporarily deaf.”

“And blind.”

“No, not blind. You still have to drive.”

“Fuck you, I’ll be blind if I want to.”

Satori smiled at the forced levity. Really, it seemed the two men appreciated the gravity of the call he was about to make. This could be the last time he ever spoke to his mom if she had a skeleton he didn’t know about. If the HA found a reason to exclude her from his approved contacts.

Satori dialed the number he hadn’t dialed in too long. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. At the fourth ring, Satori feared she wasn’t home. Just as he felt his heart sink, he heard a click. There was a long pause before Satori wavering old voice over the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Mom,” Satori whispered.

“Taka?” There was relief in her voice.

Satori closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

---

Christopher and Bobby sat on a wooden bench outside the Hospital. Hifumi was off with the pair’s money to acquire lunch. After Christopher told them about the Cafeteria's selection. They agreed that 'anywhere else' was a good option. Bobby and Christopher stayed behind while Hifumi got lunch… just in case.

“You know a lot about the Five right?” Bobby asked out of the blue.

“Yes.”

“What are the chances they try to finish Floor-senpai off?”

“Zero.”

Bobby blinked, surprised at the confidence in Christopher’s voice. “Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong, if they were paid to kill him, they’d be after him right now. He wasn’t their target. If he was... he probably wouldn’t have made it.”

“… yeah.” That much aligned with Bobby’s own thoughts. “But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t they kill Floor, Hifumi, or me? Don’t get me wrong, they were fighting for real, I’ve got the bruises to prove it, but…. I don’t know, it just felt like they weren’t going for the kill when they could’ve.”

“You and Hifumi are easy enough. The Five don’t kill kids.”

“…” Bobby raised an eyebrow. Could that really be true? He’d heard Maddox alone was in the triple-digit body count. There were rumors Desolator was in the thousands. Could you really kill so many people without crossing an age line?

“I didn’t believe it either,” Christopher admitted. “But it turns out to be true. As for Floor, they allegedly TRY not to kill heroes when they can help it.”

“I get the kid thing, but heroes?”

“Fear of retribution?”

“From other heroes?”

“Yeah. In Brussels, the Five pulled this job where they killed a dozen pros in a single day.” Christopher’s eyes went hazy as if he remembered a list.

---

---

{“Black Saturday?”}

{“Yeah.”} Christopher switched to English as if he just remembered Bobby was an American. {“About two weeks after Black Saturday, The Maid kills Ogre. A witness says Ogre surrendered and that she murdered him in cold blood. She still gets found innocent. Not ‘not guilty,’ innocent.”}

Bobby didn’t say a word. The idea of a hero killing in the line of duty wasn’t foreign to him. It shouldn’t happen, but occasionally shit was outside of your control. When it did, you were supposed to go through Hell. You had to prove there was nothing else you could’ve done. It was the only way to hold heroes to the highest standard. Apparently, that standard was negotiable, at least in Belgium.

{“To be fair to the jury, the witness was a homeless drug addict who testified that he was high at the time.”} Christopher conceded. {“But the innocent verdict still sent a message to the Five: ‘There is a line and you crossed it.’ They haven’t been active in Belgium since.”}

So it worked on top of everything else?

{“…”} Bobby wanted to change the subject. {“Who was Ogre?”}

{“Cockney bastard with a toughness quirk. He was the Five’s Bruiser before Maddox.”}

Bobby smiled at the mention of the villainess. His quirk compelled him to brag a little. {“Y’know, I fought her today.”}

{“I know.”} Christopher confirmed unimpressed.

Bobby was a little hurt by that. {“Oh come on! Nothing? I went up against Maddox! The Maddox! She’s big leagues! And I was THIS close to beating her!”}

Christopher averted his eyes.

{“I WAS!”}

Christopher was looking the other way.

{“I REALLY WAS! SHE EVEN SAID SO!”}

Christopher’s eyes could retreat no further.

Bobby huffed. {“We’ll see what Hifumi has to say when he gets back.”}

{“Sure.”}

{“I’m not lying!”}

{“Didn’t say you were.”}

{“But you don’t believe me?”}

{“Correct.”}

{“Fine!”} Bobby crossed his arms and leaned back against the bench with a huff. The bench tilted. Christopher gripped the side of the bench as it lurched with Bobby’s weight. Bobby leaned forward quickly, and the bench slammed down with a thud. The distinct sound of wood splintering filled the air.

---

Christopher glared at Bobby.

Bobby was frozen stiff.

{“…”}

{“…”}

{“Did I break it?”}

{“How should I know?”} Christopher leaned forward. He didn’t see any bolts securing this bench to the ground. Nor did he see any cracks in the wood.

{“Doesn’t look like it.”}

Bobby released his breath. {“Thank God, I don’t think I could afford that.”}

{“Kraftwerk’s insurance would’ve covered it.”}

{“Would it?”}

{“We’re technically guarding the Hospital. That’s hero work. Property damage while conducting hero work’s covered by most insurance.”}

{“… huh, well that’s good--”}

“Hey!”

Christopher jumped out of his skin when a strange small voice called for attention at his elbow. He looked down. There, with a finger firmly jammed up his right nostril, was a little boy of three. Snot dribbled down his left nostril. Blurry white text floated above his head.

Christopher blinked. Blurry? He studied the text for a moment with Search Eye. The text was there, but it was indistinct like he was looking at it through a milk glass. He felt he might be able to make out the text if he focused hard enough… just like with Satori.

“Hey, kid!” Bobby knelt on the ground in front of him. “Where’s your mom?”

The child gestured vaguely in the direction of the Hospital.

“… I see,” Bobby whispered, his mind jumping to all sorts of conclusions.

“Are you two heroes?”

“In Training,” Christopher answered. Given the kid’s age, his quirk wouldn’t have manifested yet. Is that what the blurry text meant?

“We are!” Bobby answered proudly. “I’m Sunlight Man, this is Mirror Devil.”

“Mom said Devils are bad.”

“Your mom’s right,” Christopher answered. The boy’s eyes widened a hair. He took a step back.

“No, no, Chris’s a good devil. He betrayed his kind to help humanity.”

{“Are you kayfabbing my origin?”}

{“Shuddup!”}

“Cool!” The little boy declared. His eyes sparkled as he looked at Christopher. “Just like the Justice Blue Ranger!”

“… the wh--”

“Was that devil’s speak?”

“Uh—” Was what devil’s speak? English?!

“Is your dad the devil king like Justice Blue?”

“No,” Christopher answered. The vague insult to his father was enough to catch him up to the kid’s pace.

“Oh…” The boy looked down disappointed. Bobby looked up at Christopher frowning. Christopher squirmed beneath the weight of the kid’s disappointment.

“… He’s the second in command?”

The kid lit up again. “Like Darth Vader?!”

“Sure.”

“So cool!”

“You think that’s cool? My dad gave his life to seal the Devil King.”

Christopher twitched at Bobby’s embellishment. How far was he going to go with this kayfabe bull--

“Like Justice Red?”

What the fuck is this show?!

“Exactly!”

“Cool.”

Bobby deflated as the boy’s lackluster enthusiasm washed over him. Christopher got the sense that the kid liked Justice Blue a LOT more than Justice Red. The boy looked up at Christopher, his eyes still sparkling.

Christopher shrank. He didn’t know how to handle such naked and unearned adoration. He wasn’t good with kids in general. He liked them fine, but the thought that everything he said could have a profound impact on a young mind made him want to run away. He’d rather not have an impact at all than have a bad one. How’d Rosethorn deal with that pressure?

“Wh—” Before the kid could begin his latest barrage, a woman’s voice cut him off.

“Ichiji!” A young woman with long dark hair ran towards the boy, clearly panicked. White text floated above her head.

“Hi, Mommy.” Ichiji greeted evenly as if nothing in the world could be the matter.

The woman scooped Ichiji into her arms. Irate. “Why’d you run off like that?!”

Ichiji blinked as if only now comprehending he might be in trouble. Tears started to well. “I—I dunno.”

Tears were clearly his mom’s weakness.

“Oh don’t cry!” The young mother cooed. She stroked Ichiji’s hair. “I’m not mad, but don’t run away like that okay?”

“Okay…” Ichiji sniffled. His mom turned her attention to the pair of teenagers and bowed.

“I’m sorry if he caused you any trouble.”

“He was no trouble at all.”

“He was fine.”

The woman bowed and took the half-weeping Ichiji towards the Hospital. Christopher frowned at the sight of the child weeping. He wondered why he was at the Hos--

Bobby pulled Christopher to his feet. “What the--”

“Come on do a pose!” Bobby whispered.

“… the fuck?”

“Seriously, like Power Rangers.”

“That series from like 200 years ago?”

“WHAT WAS YOUR CHILDHO--Just—just follow my lead.”

---

Ichiji wasn’t just crying because he thought he was in trouble. He didn’t want to go into the Hospital. There was a scary man there with a bad voice. He kept telling his mom his quirk might require ‘treatment.’ The way the man said ‘treatment’ scared Ichiji. He’d wanted to ask the heroes for help, but he got to talking and his mom came up and--

“Justice!”

Ichiji looked up. The two heroes were striking a pose for Ichiji. The blond boy, Justice Red squatted with his arms stretched to either side. The good devil, Justice Blue, stood with one knee in the air. He held his arms above his head.

Neither of them looked very comfortable with these poses. ‘Justice Blue’ looked like he was about to fall over. ‘Justice Red’ winced like his neck was locking up.

Ichiji didn’t notice their discomfort. All he saw were two heroes telling him to give it his all. Ichiji smiled.

---

Christopher watched as the little boy disappeared through the Hospital doors. He was still holding his pose. He could hear the shuttering of phones as passers-by took pictures of the posing interns.

{“Can we stop yet?”}

{“No.”} Bobby winced. His neck trembled with effort. {“He might still see us from inside.”}

{“Hate you.”} Christopher muttered as a pair of high school students started taking selfies in front of them.

{“I know.”}

{“Worse than Inigo.”}

{“No I’m fucking not. He’d have us following them in and get all the doctors and nurses posing with us.”}

“…” Christopher couldn’t argue that.

Suddenly a young man in red samurai armor appeared before them. He carried three covered bowls.

“Hey, they didn’t have any pork, but I got the--” Hifumi blinked.

Christopher didn’t move. His brain had stopped working long ago and he was too far gone to feel embarrassed.

Bobby immediately got up, “Bro I--”

“YOU’RE SENTAI POSING WITHOUT ME?!”

“No! It’s not what it looks like there was this kid and--”

“INIGO ISN’T EVEN HERE! HOW COULD YOU?!”

Christopher’s brain, still on vacation, still posing, uttered words he’d come to regret. “Sentai? Like a military squad? Does the Japanese military pose?”

Bobby and Hifumi stopped their bickering and stared at the still-posing Christopher. He felt Hitomi tug at his mind. She begged him to stop talking. Christopher didn’t listen.

“A fighter wing?”

---

“That ‘old’ series you were talking about, was Dinosaur Squadron Zyuranger over here before they ported over to the states and THEN they—”

Christopher looked longingly at his covered bowl of ramen. He did not care to know all this. His stomach grumbled, it’s been two hours since he ate last! His poor teenage body was dying of starvation.

“Eh, let’s leave it to Inigo.” Bobby interrupted. He was as impatient to eat as Christopher.

“Yeah I guess he’s the superfa--”

“No! That’s okay!” Christopher interrupted. He knew Inigo. If Inigo found out he didn’t know what a thing he loved was… Christopher shuddered. “I’ll look it up on my own!”

“O-okay?” Hifumi questioned. He didn’t seem to know that side of Inigo. That horrible, terrible side that wanted everyone to love what he loved. And would stop at nothing to share that love with you.

“What if he treats sentai like Hoge?”

“… oh God,” Hifumi muttered.

Or maybe they did. That… annoyed Christopher for some reason. Rather than dwell on his annoyance, he decided to unburden the Ramen of its lid and immediately dig in.

It was… GOOD! Even if Hifumi had had to replace the pork with tofu, it was great!

The bench descended to silence as the three boys focused on their bowls. Hifumi ate his Shio bowl. His head danced with thoughts of which Super Sentai would get Hailey into the series. Bobby ate his Miso bowl carefully. He tried to avoid putting the hot noodles anywhere near his cracked teeth. While Christopher let his mind wander.

The blurry text meant the quirk hadn’t manifested yet? That was one mystery down. He’d worried that Satori really didn’t have a quirk. If Satori had been quirkless, Christopher would’ve been left with the mystery of what the lack of text floating above Higa or Seki’s heads meant. Christopher had been a little surprised a quirkless person like Seki had been hired to… work… in…

Christopher dropped his chopsticks.

“Chris?”

Christopher stood. His bowl plopped forgotten on the ground. Its contents spilled everywhere. He grabbed his phone. There had been a question he should’ve asked! He dialed the hero association.

“Hello?” A familiar voice came on the line.

“Yes, sorry, this is Mirror Devil. I’m calling about--”

“Seki-san? I’ve already answered your questions.” The woman interrupted, annoyed. “He’s--”

“I have one more question!” What luck! If this was the same receptionist, he could skip a lot of preamble.

The woman took a deep breath to calm down. “What is it?”

“What’s Seki-san’s quirk?”

“I can’t reveal that inform--”

“Can you confirm whether he has one?!”

“… I don’t know. I could get in trouble for even that--”

“Please! It’s important.”

“…” She sighed. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“YES HE HAS A QUIRK!”

---

“I’m sorry.” Desolator listened to Satori sob into his phone. Suzuki glanced through the rearview mirror, the annoyance plain on his face. Who wanted to hear a son’s last conversation with his mother? Desolator frowned at him. He had no fear of Satori noticing the mask slip at this juncture.

‘You’re being adequately compensated.’ Desolator said with his eyes.

Suzuki grumbled, but he couldn’t argue THAT point.

“No, it’s my fault. I could’ve at least tried to reach out.”

“Yeah…”

“I love you too.”

Desolator watched Suzuki’s face. The man was getting green around the gills. Desolator leaned back. That was a normal reaction for most assassins. So long as the person they were killing wasn’t real, so long as he wasn’t a person, they could kill him easily. Once they saw that their victim had his own life they got sick to their stomach at the thought of killing them.

Desolator never had that issue. Maybe because he knew the first person he’d ever killed.

“Uh…” Satori sounded like he was choking. Desolator looked up the road. The Dai-Ichi’s scrap yard came into view. He gave a signal to Suzuki.

Suzuki nodded. He reached under the dashboard and turned off the car’s tracker.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to visit.” Satori managed evenly.

Suzuki turned into the scrap yard.

“I’m—I’m going away for a while.”

Suzuki drove on the dirt road between mountains of cars. Satori’s head was down as he tried to hold in his emotions. He didn’t notice the change.

“I didn’t I--” Satori let out a jagged breath. “I’m lying, I got into a lot of trouble.”

Suzuki looked for the space that was promised. Desolator motioned him to keep going. The Dai-Ichi had agreed to clear a space close to the back.

“I’m going into witness protection. I—I tried to do the right thing in the end. It just took me a while.”

Desolator spied the cleared area first. A forklift had cleared an area no wider than a coffin between two mountains of dead cars. Several vehicles perched precariously over the cleared area, ready to fill that space as soon as they were done. The forklift, with the keys hanging out of its ignition, stood to the side, its teeth positioned under one of those precariously hung vehicle’s bumpers.

The Dai-Ichi couldn’t’ve made this any easier.

Desolator pointed the space out to Suzuki. Suzuki nodded.

“I don’t know. Maybe I won’t. I got into trouble with some bad people.”

Suzuki backed up. They were just in front of the empty space.

“I’ll be safe, don’t worry. If you need anything—I’ll ask my handler to take care of you.”

Suzuki motioned at Desolator. ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’

Desolator held up a hand. ‘Wait.’ There was no reason for a mother to hear her son die.

“…”

Satori struggled to hold back the tears. Desolator pulled out his .22. He wouldn’t be much longer.

“I-I gotta go.” Satori lied. The dam was breaking. He couldn’t keep a conversation going. “I love you mom.” He hung up the phone.

Desolator pointed his gun through the gap between the headrest and the seat.

Satori wiped his eyes and sat up. He looked around in confusion. Desolator lined up his barrel to his Satori in the back of the head, at the base of the brain stem.

“Where are we?”

“Scrapyard. Evading pursuit.” Desolator answered.

“We were pursued?!” Satori looked around frantically.

“Don’t worry.” Desolator clicked off the safety. He got the timing of Satori’s movements down. Most assassins couldn’t think of their targets as people. Desolator knew they were people. People with their own fuck ups, loves, and hates. It was one of the reasons he was so good at what he did. It kept him from underestimating his target.

“We won’t be here long.”

It was why he tried to make death as painless as he could.

Satori began to turn his head to look at ‘Seki.’

Desolator squeezed the trigger.

---

“That wasn’t Seki!”

“Excuse me?” The lady on the other end asked.

“One of my loaded quirks is called Search Eye.” Christopher tried to keep calm. He’d finally placed ‘Seki’s’ face. “It lets me see the quirk of an individual.”

“But I haven’t told y--”

“This Seki had no quirk!” It was the only image that existed of Desolator before he was 50. The only image of the Tuscon Massacre.

“…” The woman was stricken silent.

“I need to know where Suzuki is. He might be in extreme danger.” Christopher could see that picture in his mind. A young Desolator lighting the cigarette of an unidentified Japanese woman. His hands were covered in blood.

“I—”

“Please, the car’s low-jacked isn't it? Just tell me where--”

“The tracker’s off!” The woman yelled.

“Do you have a last known?”

“I’m looking.”

“Chris? What do you need?” Christopher looked up. Bobby and Hifumi were both locked in. Bobby might’ve been hurt. Hifumi might’ve been exhausted. But if Seki was a fake, then the job wasn’t done.

“Do you know where Impakt is?”

Hifumi didn’t need to hear the next part. He closed his eyes and disappeared.

“Chris!” Christopher looked up to see Ryusei running towards him. His phone held in his hand, an image displayed of a man who looked similar to the Seki they’d met. That was definitely a different person. “The Seki we--”

“I know!”

Ryusei skid to a stop next to Christopher. He didn’t question how he knew. “Are you talking to the--”

“Yeah.”

“Location?”

“She’s working on it.”

Silence.

Bobby leaned forward, hoping against hope that Impakt would let him go on this mission. Ryusei put his phone back into his pocket. Christopher put his phone on speaker so everyone could hear the HA operator typing furiously.

Christopher’s mind raced. It’d been 15 minutes since Satori had been taken away. In that time, the car could’ve gotten 15 kilometers away, assuming they didn’t speed and no traffic. That was more than 7 times Hifumi’s max range. Christopher’s heart sank.

Maybe there was traffic? On a fucking Saturday afternoon? Christopher began to despair. He didn’t say anything. There was no point in giving up until he knew it was too late.

Hifumi reappeared with Impakt in tow.

“Young hero! What’s the situation--”

“The last known location was 604-879 Kyoto-shi, Nakagyo-ku, Sanjo-dori, Higashi-nishinotoin Higashi-iri, Hishiya-cho 30.”

Christopher closed his eyes. He summoned his mental map of Kyoto. That was next to a scrap yard, one of Desolator’s favorite dumping grounds. Tanaka’s Scrap? Focus. Distance from the Hospital, what was the dis--

6 kilometers.

Christopher sighed. 6 kilometers. They had been lucky with traffic, but it didn't matter. Hifumi couldn’t get anyone that far away. It was too late.

“Please notify all heroes that there’s a likely situation at Tanaka’s Scrap,” Christopher whispered.

“But that’s no--”

“It’s where they’re most likely to be.”

“Right away!” The operator announced. She hung up.

Christopher looked up at the assembled heroes. Hifumi was ready to go. Impakt was brimming with anticipation. Bobby leaned forward. Ryusei listened. Christopher’s voice cut the motivation of everyone, save one, in half. “It’s 6 kilometers away.”

Impakt hissed. Ryusei cursed. Bobby breathed a bitter sigh.

Hifumi pounded his chest. “I can make it!”

Christopher stared at him. “That’s 3 times your max--”

“It’s by my house! I can make it!” Hifumi frowned, “but… I don’t think I can take anyone I don’t know. Sorry, Sir.” He bowed to Smokin’ Sexy.

Ryusei shook his head and held up a hand. He didn’t take offense. He was surprised the boy even thought he could make a jump like that.

“Hifumi,” Impakt spoke, his voice grave. “You’re sure?”

“I’m gonna try!”

Christopher looked at Ryusei. Ryusei met his eyes. The unasked question hung heavily in the air even as Impakt and Bobby grabbed Hifumi’s shoulders.

“Listen to Impakt.” Ryusei held out one finger. He extended the second. “Don’t fuck up.”

Christopher nodded. He turned to Hifumi. Hifumi held out a hand. Christopher grasped it.

Challenger closed his eyes. The next moment, the four were surrounded by mountains of rusted cars.

“NICE!” Bobby yelped.

“You beautiful bastard, I could--” Christopher began. Hifumi teetered. “Hifumi?” Blood dripped from the hero’s nose.

“Let go of him!” Impakt ordered. Bobby Christopher complied. In another moment, Hifumi was gone.

“Shit!”

“Bro!”

“Smokin’ Sexy will take care of him.” Impakt asserted. “I need you two to focus. Can you do that?”

Bobby nodded. Christopher mirrored the motion. “Good. Christopher right? Do you know WHERE they may have taken him?”

Christopher shook his head.

“Scheise.” Impakt looked around. The yard was less than an acre, but the vast mountains of scrap made visibility over 3 meters a fantasy. The best and only option, Christopher knew, was to split up. But Impakt had two interns with him, tender-aged students who shouldn’t be left alone against one of the world’s most notorious assassins.

“Sir.” Bobby began. “We need to split, even I know that. Chris already called for backup. We can handle ourselves.”

“I don’t--” Impakt looked at Christopher. He wasn’t worried about Bobby. He knew Bobby. Bobby could take a bullet. Chris? Christopher was an unknown to him. Even if Impakt did know about Christopher, all he’d know is that he’d been hospitalized twice by the bastard they were after.

A little black dragon unfurled from around Christopher’s neck and perched on his shoulder. She grinned at Impakt’s surprised stare and gave the hero a thumbs up. ‘I’ll protect him!’ Christopher put a hand on his sword. “I’ll be fine.”

Impakt hesitated but nodded. “All right. Fick it. Sunlight Man, you take the West. Mirror Devil, the North. I’ll take the East.”

“What about the South?” Bobby asked.

Christopher started to respond.

“That is the entrance, yes?” Impakt smiled. Christopher shut his mouth. “Hopefully, our backup will search that area first. Here.” He handed Christopher a watch. “Radio. Press and hold the button to speak. Press twice for distress.” Christopher put on the watch. “Bobby, you have yours?” Bobby showed his watch.

Impakt nodded gravely. “Stay safe .”

The three split up.

Christopher ran through the maze of rusted cars. Hitomi flew above him in a great circle, scanning for the black sedan they’d seen earlier. The high vantage point was less advantageous than one would hope in this horrid mechanical graveyard. One black car looked like any other from above. The only hope she had of spotting the car was if it was moving.

If the car was moving, Christopher knew, then that meant they’d already killed Satori. That meant that this had all been for nothing.

Christopher kept moving. Every moment that passed was another moment Satori could be killed. His chest burned as he turned another corner. He felt something growing inside him. Desperation? No. It was anger.

They’d won that fight against the Five. Impakt and Smokin’ Sexy’s teams had beaten the Five back, denied them their kill. Now Desolator was trying to steal that win. That one win! Christopher’s jaw clenched. Maybe it wasn’t the way he should think about this. This wasn’t a competition. Desolator was a criminal. Christopher was a hero. This wasn’t about wins. This was about justice. At least it should be!

Hitomi landed on Christopher’s shoulder. She pointed to his left. His eyes widened. She’d found it?! Did that mean it was moving?!

Christopher followed Hitomi’s directions. He jumped over a discarded fuel tank.

Hitomi pointed right.

Christopher grabbed a pole to help his turn. He stumbled. He rolled to his feet and continued to pump his legs as fast as they’d go. He came to another corner. Hitomi held her hand up.

Christopher slid to a stop. He wheezed. He peeked around a loose tire. There, sitting not 2 meters away, was the black sedan. He saw two figures in the front seat. One was Satori. He was alive! He pressed the button on his watch twice. He hoped Bobby and Impakt would be here soon.

Christopher crept closer. Hitomi crouched next to him. He put a hand on his sword. Satori looked around frantically. He didn’t see Christopher. Smokin’ Sexy’s lessons were paying off!

Christopher just needed to get a little closer then--

A flash of light came from the sedan’s back seat, accompanied by a faint crack. Satori slumped forward. Christopher swallowed bile.

He’d been so close.

---

Suzuki blinked in surprise as he saw Satori’s head slam against the dash. The only blood was dripping from the back of his head. Satori’s eyes hadn’t even closed.

“No exit wound?”

“The magic of a .22.” Desolator smiled. “The bullet can’t get through the skull twice, so it just bounces around in there. Instant death, no noise, nothing better for a roadside execution.”

“I’ll be damned.”

“Probably, but your new life on St. Thomas might make up for it.” Desolator unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let’s dump him and get you to the airport.”

Suzuki sighed. He hated dragging a dead body. That always made him feel dirty. Still, a job’s a job. He unbuckled his seatbelt. The payment for this one was more than he could’ve hoped for. A life-extending quirk and a retirement in paradise. He could almost taste those wonderful tri-colored--

The driver’s door flew off its hinges. “What the--” A black claw wrapped around Suzuki’s throat and dragged him outside.

---

Desolator rolled out of the car. A spike drove itself through the car’s roof and crushed the seat he’d just occupied.

“Damn,” Desolator came to his feet and started running. A massive black shape started chasing after him.

Desolator didn’t look back. He knew he was closely pursued. The trembling ground told him that much. He flung himself around a corner and turned on a dime. As he turned, he saw a maddening monstrosity with its maw agape. It had dozens of tiny scrabbling limbs grabbing the ground. Several dozen eyes lulled this way and that, resting inside rotating sockets like a gecko’s.

It tore great gouts in the earth as it tried to claw itself after Desolator. The assassin didn’t hesitate. He charged the beast. His mind formed the faint outlines of a plan. There was only one path to victory, and it lay on the other side of that beast!

‘A construct? Myoga’s quirk.’ The beast roared as he charged madly towards it. ‘But not Gigan.’

The beast’s form shivered as dozens of its limbs combined into one the size of a bus. It fell upon Desolator. He slid. The arm grazed his head. A trickle of blood poured from his scalp. It struck the ground behind him. The world shook.

Desolator popped up into a run. Blood ran down his scalp into his eye. He didn't blink. ‘It’s likely Miracle’s boy.’ The creature shimmered as it turned to follow. It was too big to turn quick enough in this space. It needed to take another form. That gave Desolator precious seconds. Seconds to neutralize the threat.

‘If the dragon’s here, the kid’s undefended. Just need to find h--’ Desolator felt rather than saw him. A slight tremor in the ground from a step. A shift in the air as the boy took a breath. Whatever the tell was, Desolator reacted.

Whirling to his right, Desolator saw Mirror Devil taking the final step of a draw slash. On instinct, Desolator swung his arm to point his .22 at the boy’s head.

The Devil’s elbow hit the gun’s barrel as he finished his draw. The gun flew out of Desolator’s hand. Checkmate. Few were capable of reacting to their weapon being knocked away. Desolator certainly wasn’t--

The Devil’s sword left its sheath. The blade screamed towards Desolator’s head.

–a month ago, when he was an old man. Desolator ducked. The blade sailed centimeters over his head. He stepped into Mirror Devil’s guard and slammed his elbow into the boy’s side.

CRACK

The boy crumbled. His form, picture-perfect a moment ago, fell apart as he stumbled backward. His sword hit the ground with a dull clang. The clang of a blunt blade. Desolator smiled.

Desolator stepped away. He drew his .45. He popped in a magazine of rubber bullets. He chambered a round. He aimed for the boy’s chest.

He squeezed the trigger.

BANG

A black tentacle intercepted the bullet.

‘Oh… the dragon.’ Desolator thought belatedly as a spear of darkness shot for his eye. Desolator fell backwards. The spear slammed into the ground, centimeters from his foot. He didn't panic. He didn't blink. IF HE DIDN’T KEEP THE DRAGON OFF HIM HE WAS DONE! He aimed for Mirror Devil and fired again. A skeletal hand shot out of the spear and blocked the bullet.

Desolator scrambled away. The gun stayed on Mirror Devil. If the construct made a move. He’d fire, and it'd have to hope it could react like it did moments ago. The dragon didn’t move. It focused on the gun. It wasn’t confident it could intercept the bullets if it got close to Desolator.

'Good.' Desolator grinned. This was checkmate.

“You’re under arrest.” The choking voice of Mirror Devil announced.

“I’d be more frightened if you could get up.” Desolator taunted. He slowly backed away. His eyes were fixed on the spear as it dissolved into a tiny black dragon and perched on Christopher’s shoulder. He locked eyes with that dragon for a moment.

---

“I don’t have to be the one to arrest you,” Christopher announced, trying to sound confident. He stood, grinding his teeth. His side was on fire. He didn’t have feeling in his right leg. He didn’t know if he could do more than stand, but he had to bluff! His only option was to keep Desolator talking. To delay him long enough for Impakt or Sunlight Man to get here.

“No, I suppose you don’t,” Desolator admitted. “Where’s Suzuki?”

“In custody.”

Desolator’s smile dimmed. “Suzuki doesn’t know anything.”

“I don’t care. He’s going down for murder.” Could he send Hitomi out again? No, Hitomi wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t, maybe couldn’t, leave him defenseless. If she charged, Desolator would shoot him.

“Fair’s fair, I suppose.”

More than that… wasn’t Desolator faster than the last time the two met? Christopher was sure he had the bastard moments ago. He was certain that he’d gotten too close for Desolator to react. Also, shouldn’t the makeup he was wearing to make himself look younger be smearing? What the Hell was going on?

“Did you come alone?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a poor liar.”

“...” Fuck! If he knew there was backup--

“That’s my cue then.” Desolator took a step back. His gun was still pointed right at Christopher’s chest. “Tell Suzuki I’m sorry.”

“Don’t!” Christopher took a step forward. Pain pierced his side like a spear. He hit his knee. Hitomi flitted around in a panic. “Fuck!”

“You have a broken rib,” Desolator advised. He turned and began to walk away. “Try not to move. That’ll only make it worse.”

‘Hitomi!’ Christopher silently pleaded. He locked eyes with his dragon construct. ‘You have to!’ Hitomi shook her head. She wasn’t going to. She wouldn’t risk him. She didn’t know if she could attack Desolator AND protect him.

‘He won’t kill me!’ Christopher protested as Desolator approached the corner, heading south.

‘He might cripple you though.’ Christopher’s own thoughts answered. Was that it? Was Hitomi listening to his subconscious and not him? Was she going to let Desolator walk away? Was she going to stay at his side because, deep down, he was scared of being hurt?

Thinking quickly! Christopher reached for his watch. If he could tell Impakt Desolator’s location! Maybe the pro could intercept him! He pressed the button. It didn’t crackle to life. It just kept flashing that emergency signal! HOW COULD HE SHUT THIS SHIT OFF AND TRANSMIT AGAIN?!

Christopher didn’t know.

Tears welled in Christopher’s eyes as Desolator disappeared around the corner. Gone to kill more moms.

“DAMMIT!”

---

Christopher approached the sedan slowly. Hitomi was wrapped around his ribs. He couldn’t bear to look at Satori, the man he failed. He sat on the hood of the car. He felt like a sack of shit. He was a failure.

A blue and yellow figure raced towards him.

“Mirror Devil!” Impakt called as he slid to a stop. “Are you hurt?”

Christopher pointed in the direction Desolator had gone. “He went that way.”

“The police and other heroes have the area cordoned off,” Impakt answered. He looked at Christopher’s ribs. “Were you shot?”

“Broke a rib,” Christopher answered hoarsely. His eyes were glued to the white text floating above Impakt’s quirk.

‘Why didn’t I drop Search Eye for that?!’ Christopher lamented. If he’d just… copied a fucking quirk. If he’d done the one thing his quirk was good for! Had he gotten so comfortable with this quirk set he didn’t think to switch it out for something like that?!

Christopher closed his eyes against fresh tears. How the Hell was he so fucking stupid? A hand clasped Christopher’s shoulder.

“It’s alright young hero--”

It wasn’t. Satori was dead. Desolator was in the wind. All Christopher had to show for this debacle was a dirty cop unconscious in the back of a desiccated Buick.

“--some of the best heroes in the country are searching the area now. We’ll catch him.”

They wouldn’t. Desolator was gone.

“Satori…”

“I know.” Impakt sighed. “The truth is we can’t save every--”

Impakt’s breath caught. Christopher, still bleary-eyed, followed Impakt’s gaze. Sitting in the passenger's seat, blinking, moving, looking around in shock, alive, was Satori.

“How?” Christopher whispered. His voice cracked. Search Eye gave him the answer. There floating above Satori’s head, the once blurry text resolved.

“Where are Suzuki and Seki?” Satori asked, clueless.

“No way.” Christopher breathed. A smile crept onto his face. He could feel Hitomi cheering from his makeshift bandages. Impakt started to laugh.

This was such a stupid way to save a life. An unearned victory born from random genetic chance, but in that moment, a life was a life.

A win is a win.