Frameless

Christopher brought his sword down in a blistering arc. The blade mercilessly bisected a shadowy foe. As the shadow fell apart it revealed a small mewling black dragon lying on the ground. Her halves fell away from each other in a pitiable sight.

Hitomi hit the ground with a tragic thump. She looked up at Christopher; her big round eyes filled with horror. She reached a trembling claw for her master. Tears welled in her heart. She would not be long for this world. The wound was mortal. She had to know!

‘Why?!’ Hitomi squeaked.

Christopher’s eyes narrowed. There was no sympathy in those cold burnt brown eyes, just annoyance. He sighed.

A sigh! Tears fell freely down Hitomi’s cheeks. Is that really how he saw her? Nothing more than a burden?! A tool to be discarded when it’d outlived its usefulness?! After all, they’d been thr--

“99.” Ryusei counted dispassionately. Hitomi glared at Ryusei. How dare he interrupt?! She was nailing that death scene!

---

Ryusei ignored Hitomi’s glare. He was sitting on his soiled couch, reading the newspaper. From the occasional chuckle, Christopher guessed he was sticking to the comics section.

Anko lay next to Ryusei. The shaggy black dog’s tummy was exposed to the leaky ceiling. His massive head lay sloppily on Ryusei’s lap. He breathed deeply, such that Christopher wasn’t sure whether he was awake and relaxed or in a deep sleep that the dead would envy.

“Last one.” Ryusei announced.

Hitomi clicked her tongue. Her lower half waddled over and reunited with her top half. She stood, dusting herself off dramatically. Then she grew into the form of a kendo practitioner. A black wooden sword was held in front of her. She took a ready stance. She chirped a high-pitched kiai.

Christopher wiped the sweat from his brow. He sheathed his sword again and assumed his stance. His feet were spread shoulder’s width apart. His right elbow was pointed at his opponent. He took a deep breath to steady his hands before he grabbed his blade’s pommel.

Christopher and Hitomi fell still. Neither moving. They were statues waiting for the other to make the first move. It was a solid 3 minutes before Hitomi finally made her move.

Hitomi raised her sword. Her front foot lifted off the floor.

Christopher shifted his weight forward. As soon as he rocked forward, he began to draw his blade. His back foot left the floor. His blade left the scabbard.

Hitomi finished her step and brought her sword down.

Christopher’s left foot hit the ground beside his right. His arm shot forward. His forearm hit the side of Hitomi’s blade as he entered his strike.

Helpless, Hitomi could only watch as her deflected blow’s momentum brought her sword sailing through empty air.

Christopher’s right foot shot forward.

Hitomi’s sword hit the ground.

Christopher’s sword cut through Hitomi’s neck as his right foot hit the ground. Her head rolled off her shoulders. Her body trembled and then collapsed in a heap.

“100.” Ryusei counted before Hitomi could slip into melodrama again.

“Tch.”

Christopher’s shoulders slumped. He panted. He rubbed his right shoulder tenderly. It’d be covered with bruises tomorrow from the times his timing was off.

“Here!” Ryusei fished a mostly melted bag of ice from under the couch and threw it to Christopher.

Christopher reached out to catch it, only for the bag to be intercepted by Hitomi. He sighed as his dragon wrapped herself around the ice bag. He didn’t protest as she lashed herself around his abused shoulder. He rubbed his shoulder as he felt the coolness of ice start to seep through his muscle. Hopefully, that’d cut down on the bruising.

“How’d I do?” Christopher asked tiredly.

“Don’t rely on it in the field anytime soon,” Ryusei commented, turning the page of his newspaper. “It’s coming along, but until you stop getting hit I don’t want you using it.”

Christopher nodded. At Hifumi’s, possibly tongue-in-cheek, suggestion he’d asked Ryusei to teach him Iaijutsu.

Ryusei had been confused by the term Iaijutsu… until Christopher explained what it entailed. Apparently, Ryusei knew it as Battōjutsu. He’d agreed to start training Christopher in it, much to the novice’s regret. Christopher rubbed his shoulder again.

From the movies, Christopher had been led to believe martial arts instructors wouldn’t let you begin sparring until you were a master of the basics. Ryusei followed a different philosophy.

Ryusei thought if you spent too long focusing on kata your form would fall apart when exposed to resistance. As such, Christopher’s routine, for the last month, had been 2 hours of PT, 1 hour of kata, then half an hour of full contact sparring with Hitomi practicing what he’d been performing with his kata. And finally…

Ryusei folded his newspaper. He stood, gently lifting Anko off his lap before he let the lazy dog’s head fall on the couch. Anko voiced a feeble protest before he rolled over on his belly and resumed his snooze.

Ryusei smiled at the dog’s antics and started stretching. Christopher followed his example. After ten minutes of calisthenics, Ryusei grabbed his new bokken, a gift from the hero association, and pointed it at Christopher.

… a sparring match with sensei.

“Full quirk usage today Chris.” Ryusei breathed, and a thin trail of smoke billowed from the corner of his mouth. “I want a fight.”

Hitomi dissolved from his shoulder into a thin black gas. The fully melted bag of ice hit the ground. She settled around Christopher like a cloud of smoke.

Christopher drew his sword. “Ready.”

---

Later That Day

Thanks A Latte was never a busy location. It was a small cafe set on an out-of-the-way side road. Customers adored its sleepy atmosphere and decent drinks. That the barista was something of a local guardian angel was another bonus that no one commented on openly, unless they were named Yui. The only people who frequented this place were either locals or a small group of freshmen from Shiketsu. Among these freshmen were two friends who’d resolved to meet here once a week during their internships, so that their friendship wouldn’t be eroded by a petty thing like time apart.

Christopher sat across from Inigo. Iced Coffee cradled in his hands. He couldn’t help but stare at the offense against taste that Inigo was trying today. It was a horrifying frankenccino that had almost a dozen modifications added onto it. Christopher had worried Lysingen-san would strangle Inigo when he’d made THAT order.

“So, what’ve you been up to this week?” Inigo asked cheerily. He ignored the daggers Lysingen-san was staring into his back.

Christopher shrugged. “Training and patrol, nothing interesting on patrol this last week though. How about you?”

“Same. Honestly, I’m just glad we’re not doing what I thought an internship would look like.”

“What’d you think?”

“Paperwork.”

“Oh, I’ve been doing that too I guess.”

“Really? I didn’t think Smokin’ would be the type to make you do that.”

“He’s not. I don’t think he knows I’m correcting his reports behind his back.”

“He doesn’t? Why are you doing it then?”

“Cause he can’t afford the fines.” Christopher shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do after patrol.”

“I’m a little jealous that you get to move around after patrol.”

“… what?”

“After I bathe they tie me up in my futon and blindfold me.”

“Inigo, what the fuck? That’s abuse!”

“It’s not that bad--”

“You need to call the school! Or… or the Hero Association!!”

“Nono. Bro. Chill. It’s an apartment full of girls. I’ll take being tied up over getting shot by Sally.”

“THAT DOES NOT MAKE IT OKA-- wait… can’t Gigan just untie you?”

“…”

“…”

“Don’t tell Sally.”

“You’ve been using him to slip out in the morning to get ingredients for breakfast haven’t you?”

“It’s for love!”

“Uh-huh, how’s Hoge doing anyway?”

“Goooood?”

“That was an awful uncertain ‘good.’”

“She’s better now that she’s had her own interview.”

“She did? I must’ve missed it.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

“I tell her as little as possible.” Christopher sipped his coffee. “Did my interview piss her off that much?”

“She screamed.”

“Damn.”

“Shrieked really.”

“DAMN!”

“Yeah.”

The two friends sat in silence for a moment. Christopher enjoying his coffee. Inigo… not enjoying his abomination.

“Ugh, this is awful.”

“What even is it?”

“A Caramel Ribbon Crunch Frappuccino with Double Espresso shot, Almond Milk, Two Pumps of Vanilla, 2 Pumps Honey Blend, Extra Cocoa Powder, 1 Pump Caramel Sauce, 1 Pump Pumpkin Sauce, 1 Pump White Mocha, and Extra Vanilla Powder.”

“… Did you ask Faith for recommendations?”

“I asked Yui what the worst order she’d ever heard was. I wanted to give it a try.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

---

“You’re telling me,” Inigo took another sip of his frankenccino. He made a face that told the story of a thousand needles being driven into his tongue and each needle was awful in its own way. He cast a glance towards Helene, but he found no sympathy there. The short blonde merely looked away when he tried to meet her eyes. He sighed. He was abandoned for his sins against coffee. He deserved this.

Desperate to get his mind off his self-imposed purgation, Inigo changed the subject.

---

“How is Faith doing?”

“...good...”

“Miss her~?”

“Yeah… we video call at night, but… y’know. Not the same.” Christmas couldn’t come fast enough.

“...Didn’t expect you to just come out and say that, won’t lie.” Inigo’s face was a mask of surprise, but beneath the mask, there was… concern. A concern Christopher missed entirely as he waved his hand dismissing this rare open moment.

“It’s the truth. Anyway, she’s doing well at her internship. At least she was, but… she hit a snag.”

“Oh?”

“They had her on data entry, braindead stuff. So, day one, she made a macro to automate what she was doing. But they found out and now she’s ‘good with computers.’”

“Heh, I’ll bet that sucks....”

“… you okay? You look like you’re a million miles away.”

“I was thinking about my sleeping arrangement.”

“If you want me to call the school for you, I will.”

“No! I mean, thanks, but no, I was just thinking how much of a wasted effort it is. It’s not like Gigan would LET me do anything.”

Inigo looked at Christopher meaningfully, as if he were trying to communicate something dark about his quirk. As if he were trying to give Christopher permission to do something drastic. The message flew right over Christopher’s head.

“What do you mean ‘let?’”

Inigo smiled tightly. “My quirk’s like Jiminy Cricket. I can’t do anything too bad or my little green conscience will be in my ear about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean you know how it is.” Inigo smiled, but his eyes weren’t in it. “Like what happens when you copy Black Dragon Sis, you become an emotional wreck, right? My quirk… it changes us.”

Inigo went silent at that last one. Christopher frowned in deep thought. Inigo was worried about something to do with his quirk, that much was plain to Christopher.

‘Does he know I’ve kept it?’ Christopher wondered. ‘No, that doesn’t make sense. He’d be asking to hang out with Hitomi if he knew right? So… what’s he worried about?’

Christopher’s brow furrowed. He glanced at Inigo’s quirk description floating above his head using Search Eye.

Christopher’s eyes widened at the description. So that was it… Inigo was having an existential crisis over who he was. He thought the only reason he was a good man was because of his quirk?

‘If so, he’s a moron.’

Christopher’s mind hovered over the word ‘urges.’ That didn’t imply a forced change, just influence. He certainly didn’t feel like Hitomi had changed who he was deep down, just changed the filter over the world as he saw it. She made his emotions hit harder. She’d made it difficult to hide what he was thinking, but… he was still him.

“Is that really how you see yourself?” Christopher asked.

Inigo didn’t respond, he just looked away.

‘Fucking idiot.’

Christopher shook his head. “… I don’t think your quirk changed me. I’ve ALWAYS been a mess inside. It doesn’t make me that way. I just… can’t hide who I am anymore.”

“…”

Christopher frowned. He couldn’t read Inigo’s face. It was like his friend was torn between wanting to hear him out and desperate to interrupt him. Christopher wouldn’t let himself be interrupted. Whatever was going on inside Inigo, he needed to hear this next.

---

“...”

Chris was wrong.

Inigo knew the drawback of Mirror Maker. He’d suspected for a while, but Hoge had confirmed it. He knew Chris was holding onto Dragon Construct because he didn’t want to forget his friend. He also knew Dragon Construct would change Chris if he held onto it. Chris shouldn’t have to change just because he was scared of forgetting him. He wasn’t worth it--

“You’re the best man I know, you know that?”

Those words hit Inigo like a bolt of lightning. He said the next on reflex, without really meaning a word of it. “You don’t know me.”

“That’s the fuck of it, bro. I do know you. You’re the asshole that pulled a scrawny kid that couldn’t be bothered to take care of himself into a friendship neither of us knew we needed. You’re the bastard that dragged me around school introducing me to every girl in the hope it’d get me out of my shell--”

“I was really trying to get you a girl--” Inigo stammered defensively. Christopher interrupted him.

“--You’re the fuck that saved my life.”

Silence descended over the table. Inigo had to fight the urge to flee. He had nothing to say to all that. If what Chris said really was all he’d ever done, Inigo’d look like a Saint, but Chris didn’t know.

Chris didn’t know about Middle School, about what Inigo had done to that poor girl. He didn’t know about the clan massacre, all those people Inigo had killed. He didn’t know that right now, at this moment, Inigo was still working with the Five. Chris would hate him if he knew everything. Maybe he should. But Inigo had seen what hatred had done to Chris. It hurt him. It made him worse. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt him if-- it’d be easier if Chris would just… forget him.

Inigo shook his head. “You don’t know what I’ve done I--”

“I know your brothers are villains.” Chris interrupted, he didn’t care what Inigo was about to say. “I’ve guessed their influence led you to some moral compromises. I get it. But Inigo, listen because I’m probably only ever going to be able to say this once okay? I love you. You’re like a brother to me. I don’t know what ‘brother’ means to you, but it means everything to me. I want you to know, that no matter what you’ve done, I’m here for you. Not for whatever asshole you were, but you.”

Inigo froze. He didn’t say anything. How could he say anything? He’d started to convince himself he needed to talk Chris into dropping his quirk and forgetting he ever existed and now? Now… Chris had laid bare just what he thought of their friendship.

Inigo had worried that his quirk was changing Chris. The fear of forgetting a friend was going to make Chris into something he wasn’t. But… if Chris really did feel like this… if he really did think of Inigo as his brother. What would happen if Chris forgot him? Would that change him? How much would he change? Could Inigo really let-- HOPE for that to happen?

Inigo felt tears start to well. He was helpless. Chris was on the verge of tears too. Unwilling to admit to himself just how embarrassed he was and in terror of crying in a public place, Inigo saw no choice but to deflate the sudden emotional intimacy with a joke.

“Bro I… I’m sorry, I’m with Hoge.”

Chris snorted. His head hit the table with a thump. He laughed. “You asshole!”

“I’m really flattered, but, uh, I just… I can’t leave her and you have Faith and…”

Chris shook his head. He looked Inigo in the eye. He winked. “Would you really let details like that stop you?”

It was Inigo’s turn to laugh.

---

Christopher entered the dojo. He wiped his eyes. Ryusei heard the door open and looked up.

“Welcome ba-- whoa, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Christopher muttered. “Just a really embarrassing conversation. Nothing bad.”

“I see…” Ryusei decidedly did not see, but he let the matter drop. “Well dry your eyes and get your gear, we’re going on patrol.”

Christopher nodded and walked towards the bathroom. Unheralded, Hitomi appeared on his shoulder with a soft chirp.

Christopher glared at his construct. “Where the Hell were you?”

Hitomi averted her eyes.

Christopher’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t seen Gigan at the cafe either, the Hell had they been up to?

“What can we expect today?” Christopher asked Ryusei, not taking his eyes off Hitomi. Hitomi still didn’t look at him.

“On a Wednesday afternoon? Not a whole Hell of a lot. Should be quiet.”