Law-Abiding Hero

The fall sun shined feebly over the streets of Kyoto. The days were short. The wind was bitter. The bank was surrounded by a police cordon.

The bank was a squat two-story building made from granite blocks. It was simple, utilitarian, and a little ugly. Great silver letters were stapled to the top of the bank’s facade advertising that this was a branch of the Bank of Kyoto. Two pairs of double glass doors pierced the facade, one advertised as the business entrance, the other as the public entrance. The business entrance led to a separate office complex where the bank’s loan managers and financial planners congregated. The public entrance led to the bank floor. The public entrance was currently blocked by 4 terrified civilians. One of these civilians, a young well-kempt lady with her hair done in a bun, held the door open while a masked man, hiding behind her, shouted at the cops gathered outside.

The police huddled behind their cars. Their guns were pointed towards the entrance. A sergeant held a blow horn, making token gestures at negotiation. He was stalling for time until an actual specialist could get out here. At the edge of the police cordon, near the business entrance, stood four figures. One was an Inspector with the Kyoto Police, his uniform was impeccable though his face was lined with age and worry. The second was a nervous middle aged man wearing a cheap suit. This was the bank’s branch manager, he was presently describing the bank’s layout to the third figure. The third figure was a familiar man wearing a white shirt and jeans. At his side were strapped a bokken and a katana. In his mouth was a cigarette nearly burned out. This was Smokin’ Sexy. The fourth figure was Christopher.

Christopher was wrapped in four layers to try and stave off the horrors of Kyoto's, admittedly mild, fall weather. He stood at the edge of a police barricade, his goggles pulled down tightly over his eyes. At his side was his sheathed sword, a thin metal chain wrapped around the hilt attaching hilt to scabbard (he wasn’t good enough to actually use the sword yet). His attention was split between Ryusei questioning the branch manager and the camera feed in his new goggles, a gift from his dad.

Hitomi perched on Christopher’s shoulder, fiddling with the small camera the size of a finger nail. She strapped the camera to her head then looked at Christopher.

Christopher felt a brief sensation of vertigo as the dragon focused her attention on him. The picture was crisp and clean. If the advertisement was to be believed, the range was over 100m. He gave Hitomi a thumbs up. She returned the gesture bombastically. He sighed, he wished he shared her enthusiasm.

“They cut surveillance as soon as they got in. It’s unclear how, but we’re blind in there.” The Inspector said. His brow furrowed.

“Can I get in from the offices above?” Ryusei questioned the branch manager.

The manager wrung his hands. “There’s a starirwell in the back, by the fire escape, but, the door to the bank floor's not exactly hidden so--”

“They probably have eyes on it then?” Ryusei finished.

“It’d be hard not to.” The manager admitted.

“Need to scout then, Cain you ready?”

Christopher felt his stomach drop at the question. Was he? Hitomi had her camera on. She’d take the form of a small black bird and fly into the open door. Even if she was spotted, the gunmen would likely dismiss her as a bird trying to get warm. But, Christopher knew better than most how plans go on contact with the enemy. A thousand things could go wrong. Maybe one of the robbers had a sight enhancement quirk and he’d spot the camera. Maybe the tiny camera’s strap would fail at a crucial moment. Maybe… one of the hostages would die because he fucked up.

Hitomi tapped Christopher on the shoulder. Her feed showed she was looking right at him. Bracing for nausea he looked at her. She gave two thumbs up. ‘We’ve got this!’

Christopher restrained a smile. Nice to know one of them was still confident. “Yeah, we’re good to go.”

Ryusei smirked then glanced at Inspector Hirito. “On your mark.”

Hirito frowned. He’d seen Chris’s hesitation. “You sure you’re up for this kid?”

Christopher clenched his jaw and nodded.

Hirito held Christopher’s gaze a moment longer. He was trying to see if the boy wasn’t ready, if he was going to fuck this up by doing something stupid rather than circumstances not falling his way. He didn’t see any sign of that. He returned a slight nod of his own. “Go.”

Hitomi flew from Christopher’s shoulder at ‘G--.’ She took the form of a small songbird mid flight. She climbed in the air, far above the doors so that the robbers wouldn’t see her approach. Then, as she past the cordon, she dove for the very top of the door’s entrance.

---

Arima hid behind his hostage. The rough fabric of his black ski mask scratched his lips as he screeched his demands.

“Get out of the street!”

The cop raised his blowhorn. “If you release the hostages, we can talk.”

“Yeah fucking right!” Arima shouted. They just wanted the hostages gone so they had a clear shot on Arima and his friends. Did they think he was fucking stupid?!

… well he did rob a bank in the middle of Kyoto with a worthless quirk.

But he wasn’t THAT stupid!

“Close the door!” Arima ordered. The woman, her hands shaking, did so. She began to move away from the door. Arima pressed the barrel of his Eagle to the nape of her neck. “Stay right the fuck there.”

The woman froze. She wouldn’t move.

“Don’t fucking move!” Nashima’s voice came from behind Arima.

Arima risked a glance back. Nashima was pointing his gun at a beautiful young woman with dyed blonde hair dressed in a pantsuit wearing a bowler hat and a pink scarf. She glared at Nashima as she lowered herself back on the ground.

Nashima motioned to a third man, Yamashiro, a massive slouching ape of a man. “Keep a fucking eye on her and don’t let her raise her hands!” Yamashiro nodded gloomily.

Yamashiro trained his gun on the woman.

Nashima swept the rest of the room. He didn’t seem worried about anyone else’s quirks. He turned his attention to Arima. “Anything from the cops?”

Arima shook his head.

“Good. We got 2 minutes before heroes get here.” He looked towards the vault. “How’s it going back there!”

“Eat my ass!” Came Nakao’s response.

“40 seconds!” Konno corrected in her slightly too deep voice.

Arima turned his attention back outside. His quirk had been screaming at him all day with all those damn radios outside, but now it was intolerably loud. Like something was in the roo--

Arima whirled around, “One of them’s making a call!”

---

“Shit.” Christopher muttered as he watched three robbers begin to harass the hostages through Hitomi’s feed.

“They’re searching the hostages. Jesus they’re--”

“Can you see the business entrance?” Ryusei asked.

“I—”

“Focus.”

Christopher grit his teeth. He ignored the image of a grown man crying as he was forced to stand at gunpoint. He didn’t pay attention to the woman with blonde hair still being watched by the big bastard with a shotgun. He tried not to see the mother and daughter laying face down on the bank floor holding hands barely keeping it together.

Christopher mentally commanded Hitomi to swing her head upwards. The entrance to the business stairway wasn’t hard to spot. It was an unassuming wooden door situated 3 meters from the heavy metal fire escape door.

Hitomi looked around. No-one. Whatever had caused the robbers to start harassing their hostages caused them to break their positioning.

“It’s clear.” Christopher breathed.

At that, Ryusei darted for the business entrance. Christopher followed close behind.

“Kid!” Christopher turned just in time to catch a radio. A massive clunky thing in his hands, the mute button was blinking. He looked up.

Inspector Hirito’s face was unreadable. “In case you need it.”

‘Huh? Didn’t he already give Ryusei one?’ Confused, Christopher clipped the radio to his belt then turned to catch up to Ryusei.

Christopher was barely able to keep up. Crouched low to the ground, Smokin’ Sexy flew through the bank’s business entrance like a flash. By the time Christopher had made it through the doors to the reception desk, a shiny oak thing with a handsome padded chair behind it, Ryusei was out of sight. The handsome wooden door at the far end of the reception’s room was still swinging shut. The office’s carpeted stairwell just barely visible beyond that swinging door.

Christopher rammed his shoulder into the door as it was still swinging closed and dashed up the stairwell. He didn’t catch sight of his mentor as he passed rows and rows of cubicles.

Fear gripped Christopher’s stomach as he neared the back of the office, where the stairwell to the bank floor resided. He still didn’t see Ryusei. Would Ryusei really go into the bank now? Without him? What if--

Another metal door came into Christopher’s vision. A green sign which read ‘floor’ hung above it. The door wasn’t swinging shut or anything, but he was convinced Ryusei must’ve already gone down there, maybe the fight would start any moment! Christopher reached for the door.

A hand caught Christopher by the collar. He was yanked back with a muffled yelp.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh!” Ryusei hissed.

“What the HELL?!” Christopher whispered.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay outside?!” Ryusei challenged.

“No!”

“… I didn’t?”

“No...”

“Shit.” Ryusei sighed. “Alright, you stay up here, I’m going to go down to the floor.”

“But—”

“You’re on standby in case the shooting starts and even then, only support me with Hitomi.”

“I can help!”

“If the shooting starts you will.” Ryusei hissed in a tone that begged him to lower his voice. “But I need to be in there in case I need to intervene and you’re still not quiet enough to come with me.”

“I— in case you need to?”

Ryusei rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Kid.” He sighed. He put his hands on Christopher’s shoulders so he could stare the boy in the eye. “If the cops can negotiate this without a shot fired. Fantastic. It’ll be Cup Noodles for us, but no-one got hurt. That’s a win. If I go in there waving my dick around and someone dies? Doesn’t matter what we eat after, it’ll taste like shit. We’re not here to be heroes. We’re here in case we need to be. Got it?”

Christopher didn’t understand, not really. Maybe he just didn’t want to. Ryusei sounded like a coward right now, too concerned with how things would fuck up, not concerned enough with saving others. Easy for him to say, he didn’t see the feed. He wasn’t watching people get scarred for life because some assholes decided to make their failures everyone else’s problem. Still… he knew Ryusei was right. If this could end without a shot fired, everyone would be safe. People would go home and this would just be a bad memory.

Christopher nodded his assent.

---

Ryusei smirked at Cain’s reaction. He’d have to regain the kid’s confidence if things ended peacefully, but so be it. Hostage situations were messier than Cain seemed to realize. Dumbasses with questionable discipline had their guns pointed at civilians. Startling them, taking them by surprise, was the only way Ryusei knew to take down people with guns. You startle a bastard with no trigger discipline… that gun might go off. It might kill some poor bastard’s kid.

IF the cops could do their jobs, talk down the robbers, fantastic. If the robbers got away with the money, well Cain could send Hitomi to tail them. If the idiots looked like they were going to kill a hostage… THEN intervention was worth the risks.

“Keep an eye out.”

Ryusei opened the door silently and crept down the stairwell as quiet as a mouse. There wasn’t a sound as his foot lifted from one step and fell to another. He held his swords in place so they didn’t rattle. He opened his mouth slightly, so he could hear just a little better. He heard muffled shouts through the stairwell’s exit. He didn’t hear anyone close to the door, but he did hear a lot of sobbing and threats… maybe this wasn’t the best first mission for Cain.

Ryusei shook away those stray thoughts as he approached the door, a humble wood thing with a small glass panel in its top left. He sidled to the door and peered through the thin glass window. He didn’t see anyone, didn’t mean no-one was there, but he had to trust Cain would let him know if the situation had changed somehow. He cracked the door open.

---

“Keep your hands on the fucking ground!” Nashima shouted. He leveled his gun on the blonde girl. The blonde glowered at him but obeyed. Her palms had lifted just a centimeter. It was more than enough to send Nashima into a fit. Nashima’s quirk projected the spectral white text floating above the blonde’s head, it described her quirk. Against his will, he read the quirk’s description again, he shuddered.

“I told you to keep an eye on her!” Nashima shrieked at Yamashiro.

Yamashiro looked up, tears in his eyes. Nashima read Yama’s quirk’s description again and sighed internally. Bastard was probably thinking about his dead dog or something.

Nashima didn’t have time for Yama’s sob stories. He whirled on Arima. “Still?”

Arima, still standing next to the four hostages blocking the door, held a hand to his ear like he was listening for the radio wave he kept bitching about. “Yeah.”

Nashima frowned. They’d finished checking all the hostages. No-one had a hidden phone. ‘Silent alarm? No, we cut that before we touched the floor. Maybe a secondary? Would explain why the cops showed up. I’d just assumed we missed an all-clear signal. Fuck it. Doesn’t matter at this point, we’re past our time limit.’

Nashima turned towards the vault. “You’ve got 10 seconds!” He bellowed.

“Done!” Konna answered. She came barreling out the vault carrying a bag 3 times her size like it weighed nothing. Nakao, the lumbering oaf of an ant-man, came thundering behind her carrying 4 bags, one in each of his chitinous hands. A nice haul, now time to execute his exit strategy.

“You two!” Nashima pointed at Arima, then at Yama. “Get 3 hostages together!”

Arima and Yama moved to obey. Nashima took one last look around. He grimaced when he noticed the exits that Arima’s shit fit had made him leave uncovered. If they hadn’t taken out surveillance they’d be swimming in cops right now. Wait… was that door ope--

“Let go of me!” A woman screamed. Nashima’s blood froze. That voice! NOT THAT VOICE!

Nashima whirled around only to see Yama dragging the blonde he’d been told to guard to her feet. His eyes widened as the spectral white script floated over her head, mocking him with what was about to happen.

“NO YOU IDIOT NOT HER--”

The woman pointed her palm at Yama’s face. A clear liquid shot from her palm and blasted Yama straight in the face.

“AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Yama shrieked.

Nashima didn’t think, he pointed his shotgun at the woman. She was stumbling away from Yama’s flailing hands. Terror etched in her features. She’d never used her quirk like this. Yama’s face dripped on the floor. She was about to vomit. Nashima let loose a breath. He squeezed the trigger. A black shadow fell from the ceiling.

Nashima’s eyes darted for the shadow only to feel his shotgun batted towards the sky by a tremendous force.

Nashima’s yelp was lost in his shotgun’s thunderous BANG! The ceiling above him turned to powder as buckshot slammed into it.

Nashima took a step back, he tried to bring his shotgun back to level, only to feel a car crash into the back of his head.

As Nashima tumbled to the ground, his head turned just enough to see some bastard in a white shirt and jeans carrying a bokken. Smoke whirled around him like an aura. As Nashima’s consciousness faded, he only managed a single thought. “Fucking heroes.”

---

Pandemonium. That was the only word for what erupted on the bank floor after that gun shot. Yama’s scream of agony had driven the civilians out of fear into a state of confusion. Some lifted their heads up. Others stayed where they were, frozen. Maybe if there hadn’t been a scream what happened next wouldn’t have happened. Maybe they would’ve stayed on the ground and waited for the heroes to save them. They didn’t.

BANG

The woman with her hair tied into a bun, the one who’d held the door open for Arima, panicked. She opened the door and fled out the bank. When she indulged in that natural, understandable reaction, the dominoes fell. First the three hostages with her followed. Arima, still half focused on that annoying signal, was too slow to keep control of them.

The sight of their fellows escaping was too much for the poor souls laying on the floor. As if they were a single organism, those hostages scrambled to their feet and stampeded for the door. Men and women climbed over each gripped in the madness of terror.

Arima, stupidly trying to grab the coattails of one of the fleeing hostages, was lost in the sudden wave of flesh. His gun skittered away across the polished floor.

Yama, still screaming, was trampled.

Konna threw down her bags and ran for Yama.

Nakao, the human-sized ant, fired his shotgun in the ceiling to try and seize control of the situation. Drywall powder coated the top of his head. The crowd’s hysteria was only heightened by yet another gun shot. They surged against each other in an orgy of crushing violence.

Through all of this, the hero had disappeared. Smokin’ Sexy was nowhere to be seen after he knocked out Nashima.

The crush of human bodies bottle-necked at the Bank’s doors. A black dragon made for the crowd. Ready to do what she could to get people out safely. Her plans would change slightly when she saw what Nakao did next.

---

“Get back here!” Nakao shouted, his gunshot’s report still ringing in his ears. The crowd didn’t hear him. Nakao grew enraged at his hostages’ intransigence. He pointed his gun at the crowd.

“Get on the fucking ground!” Nakao shouted. The crowd didn’t pay attention. His voice was just one of a dozen shrieking balls of noise that drowned the bank’s floor as they fought for freedom. His mandibles slammed together unleashing a spark. He couldn’t let the hostages go, they’d have no leverage, no way of escaping. He began to squeeze the trigger.

A black brick wall appeared between Nakao and the crowd, just as gray smoke engulfed his head.

“What th--”

CRUNCH

Nakao felt something slam into his knee. He felt himself start to fall a split second before he felt the pain.

---

Ryusei slammed his bokken into the ant-man’s knee. A resounding crunch reverberated through the bank floor as the poor bastard’s leg bent the wrong way. The ant-man screamed incoherently. He kicked the shotgun away, sending it sliding across the floor near that wooden door. With another swing, his bokken met the ant-man’s jaw and the poor bastard went quiet. He had no time to enjoy this small victory.

Smokin’ Sexy felt someone take a step behind him. On instinct he ducked, just in time to feel a massive fist fly over his head. He lashed out! He slammed his bokken where he thought the sucker punching son of a bitch’s elbow should be. He connected with a cacophonous THUMP. Accompanied by a sickening, suspiciously wooden, crack.

Driven by instinct, Ryusei rolled away from his opponent just as his assailant’s foot bisected the air his nuts had just occupied. He rolled to his feet and assumed his ready stance, only to find his wooden sword hanging limply by a splinter.

“Fuck.” Ryusei threw the ruined bokken away and reached for his katana. His opponent didn’t give him time to draw! He charged! It was the first time Ryusei got a good look at the man. He almost threw up.

The man’s face was a smoldering pile of blisters and exposed bone. Steam billowed around his head as more fat and skin dripped on the ground. This was the man that got hit by the civilian’s quirk. How he was moving right now was beyond Smokin’ Sexy.

‘What the fuck did she hit you with?!’ Ryusei internally screamed as he side-stepped the big bastard’s haymaker.

“What the fuck did you hit him with?!” Ryusei glanced out the corner of his eye. He saw the last robber, the girl that had been carrying a bag like it weighted nothing, hold the blonde at gun point.

The blonde was turned away from the robber, hands on the ground, sobbing. The robber’s glock rested against the back of her head. Ryusei couldn’t tell if the blonde had been pulled out of the stampede, or if she hadn’t run like everyone else. Maybe she’d sat there watching in shock as her quirk disfigured a man. Whatever happened, he needed to get over there an--

Ryusei’s distraction nearly cost him his life as the big son of a bitch with a melting face slammed his fist into Ryusei’s stomach.

The air was driven from Ryusei’s lungs as he folded around the fist like a cheap suit. He flew backwards. He slammed into the ground with a solid thud.

Ryusei gasped. His vision hazed around the edges. Noises became indistinct. His perception distorted. It was like living in a dream.

Blonde girl, crying. Masked girl, screaming. Melty-faced bastard, leering. A fist, falling. Him, gasping.

‘GET THE FUCK UP YOU LAZY SON OF A BITCH!’ His master’s voice screamed.

Ryusei rolled to the side as a mammoth sized fist split the ground where his head had been. He leapt to his feet. His enemy came again. Ryusei dodged. He focused. He breathed. He dodged. He kept his hand on his sword. He didn’t look at the blonde. He didn’t have time. He needed to make an opening.

The katana hummed in Ryusei’s hand. It begged to be drawn. It begged for escalation.

Ryusei dodged his opponent again. The poor bastard screamed in frustration. The steam rising from his face grew thick. Ryusei’s mind raced he’d already used his smoke supply on the ant-man, he needed to light up a cigarette or find an-- STEAM!

Ryusei let go of his katana and darted forward. The man, shocked by the sudden assault took a step back. Ryusei swung an open hand like he was going to slap him. The man raised his arm to block the strike! He would’ve blocked, if Ryusei had been aiming for his face.

Ryusei’s hand sailed through the steam. He seized the vapor with his quirk and then, turned it on the man. Smoke born of acid and dissolved flesh danced along the man’s nostrils. It caressed his mouth. It tickled his eyelids. While the man seemed numb to the pain the vapor caused, but even he noticed when he couldn’t breath.

Coughing, hacking, the man fell away. Ryusei didn’t waste another moment. He charged for the last robber. She was still screaming at the sobbing blonde. Ryusei wasn’t able to make out words right now, but he could see the robber was getting desperate, scared. Not good. She pulled her gun’s hammer back. Ryusei’s hand found his katana. Her finger started to squeeze the trigger. Ryusei drew.

Blood.

Ryusei held his bloody sword to the robber’s throat as she watched her trigger finger fly away. In his other hand, Ryusei held the robber’s gun, now covered in her blood. She belched as if about to vomit. Ryusei took an involuntary step back. Then, without warning, she fainted. She crumbled to the ground like an abandoned marionette.

That was when the screaming began anew. The man Ryusei had been fighting just moments ago screamed as if he was only now feeling the acid eating at his face.

Smokin’ Sexy turned just in time to see Hitomi spitting water on the man’s face. Her tail extended into a bathroom some meters away. The water hit, the steam slackened. The man kept screaming, but it looked like Hitomi was actually helping. He looked at the double doors. He didn’t see any hostages there, Cain must’ve handled the evacuation. Good boy.

Ryusei’s head swam. He stumbled backwards.

“S-sir?” The blonde whispered.

Ryusei looked over at her numbly. His head lightened with the motion. His breathing made his chest rattle. Did he have a broken rib? “You okay?”

The woman nodded shakily, eyes fixed on Ryusei’s left hand, the hand which held the gun.

Ryusei smiled. “Good.”

His head swam one last time. His chest hurt. He’d really wanted cup noodles. The world went dark.