Sins of the Mother

Dr. Saraki typed at his computer. He was in his impeccable office. A stack of patient notes rested beside him. On the other side of the room, a second-year at UA paced uncomfortably. She was a thin girl with short black hair. Her eyes shone burnt orange. Her name was Hitomi Hideyoshi and she was making it painfully clear that she was upset.

Every 3 paces Hitomi would let loose an exaggerated sigh. It was a blatant attempt to bait Saraki into asking her what was the matter. An effort Saraki heroically ignored.

sigh

Saraki studied his notes on Hitomi’s most recent exercise. Her condition was improving. A shot of quirk suppressant was all that was needed to keep her brother’s quirk dormant now.

Sigh

However, that wasn’t in line with Saraki’s goals for her treatment. He wanted her to use her quirk without the danger of her brother’s quirk activating. She still couldn’t do that without assistance. The next step was making the use of her brother’s quirk a conscious decision, but he didn’t know how… The electromagnetic discharge was unaffected by shutting off her brother’s quirk. Perhaps that could be a key? No… that sounded–

Sigh

Hitomi approached ever closer with her sighs. Saraki huddled against his computer in a vain attempt to shut out the hormone-addled creature’s drama. But this didn’t deter Hitomi. Annoyed at being ignored, she walked right behind Saraki took a deep breath, and unleashed her final attack: A deep and mournful SIGH!

Saraki sighed in defeat. He turned to look up at his patient. “What’s wrong Hitomi?”

Hitomi folded her arms. She leaned against Saraki’s desk. She pouted. “Nothing.”

“Good!” Saraki turned to his work.

“It’s just–” Hitomi waved her hand as if the word she was looking for was a wisp floating in front of her face.

Saraki pulled his chair away from his computer. He knew any attempts to work now would just be vain gestures.

Hitomi tried to find the words that would let her subtly broach whatever distressed her. She fought for heroic seconds until she gave up and just came out with it.

“I saw Konna today.”

“Who?”

“Monosuke’s patient.”

“Ah.” Saraki turned back to his computer. “0. What about her?”

“...she has electrical burns on her hands,” Hitomi whispered.

“Electro-conditioning will do that.”

“She’s in Kindergarten!” Hitomi shouted.

“Her youth is why she’s here. It makes her dangerous.” Saraki countered, not even looking away from his computer. “Do you know what brought her to our attention?”

“… no.”

“Her quirk allows her to set any single value to 0. The value has to be quantifiable, but as far as we can determine, that’s her only restriction. What do you suppose happened when she broke her grandmother’s urn on accident and her father was upset with her?”

Hitomi didn’t answer. With a keystroke he brought up an image of an emaciated body lying on a Hospital bed, its milk-white eyes staring up at the ceiling. You could be forgiven for believing the image was of a corpse.

“She set her father’s anger to 0.”

“It did THAT?!”

“Unfortunately, anger’s a core emotion, only an abnormal mind can persist without it.”Saraki tapped the screen. “Her father was normal.”

“…”

“Monosukei's conditioning 0—Konna away from using her quirk. Electro-shock therapy is one of several methods he’s trying.”

“I get it.” Hitomi relented. She didn’t. She never did understand the necessity of harm. “But…can’t you take over her treatment?”

The world stuttered as Saraki gave an answer.

---

BRING

Saraki jerked awake in his chair. Piles of paper washed away from atop his desk with the force of his awakening. His rotary phone rang. He let it ring. He rubbed his eyes. He was perplexed. The dream Saraki had had just now wasn’t a memory. His sleep had been plagued with recollections of Hitomi since he’d met her spawn. That he’d dream about her today was no surprise. He was due to see that same brat today. What was surprising was that, before now, the dreams were memories, not fabricated scenarios.

BRING

There was a similar incident as Saraki recalled. Where Hitomi had asked about Konna’s electric burns. He’d refused to answer her questions. It was none of her concern. Or his at the time. Konna’d been Monosuke’s patient and Saraki wasn’t a supervisor yet. He probably hadn’t even known the specifics of Konna’s past back then.

BRING

Why would he fabricate a new scenario? Why would Hitomi be asking about Konna? The two had no connection as far as he was aware. What was his mind trying to say? And why did it keep wandering back to Konna’s first escape?

BRING

Satisfied that he wasn’t coming up with an answer, Saraki answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Saraki.” A man’s voice. Security guard. What was his name? Date? That didn’t sound right, but he didn’t care right now. “There’s a Christopher Cain here, he says he has an appointment.”

“Yes. I’ll be right up.” Saraki hung up the phone. He stretched. The pain in his back stubbornly reminded him of his age. He was too old to sleep in a chair like he used to, but he couldn’t recall the last time he’d lain down.

As he stood, Saraki put the dream out of his mind. He focused on the treatment ahead. He smiled. There was so much to test.

Saraki stepped out of his office. His hands trembled as he reached for the keys in his pocket. His step was almost a skip as he turned to lock his office door. His smile grew into a vicious sneer as he heard the click. Today he was going to see what Quirk-induced amnesia looked like!

---

Christopher Cain fidgeted. He was in the QRS’s ostentatious lobby. He sat on a cushioned bench next to the front desk. A rotund security guard glowered at him from behind the onyx desk. The black-haired receptionist continued her work next to the guard, unbothered. Government functionaries dressed in identical suits hurried through the lobby with their heads down.

Hitomi, in the form of a black necklace, stirred as Christopher fidgeted. Christopher brushed his fingers against the necklace. The black dragon gave a reassuring squeeze. He probably wouldn’t be here without her reassurances. He’d hoped entering the QRS building would be easier than last time.

It hadn’t been.

If anything, entering this building was worse this time. Last time Christopher had been able to fool himself into believing Saraki wouldn't throw him in a cell and keep him as a lab rat. He’d thought no one was that nakedly vicious. The meeting had disabused him of that delusion. Saraki had all but admitted that the only reason Christopher wasn’t taken captive on the spot was because he didn’t want to fight Rosethorn.

Even that… even the threat of a conflict with a top 10 hero didn’t seem like it’d be enough to keep Christopher safe forever. There was always the threat that Saraki would think of a plan to keep Rosethorn in the dark about the reasons behind Christopher’s disappearance.

If Christopher were in Saraki’s shoes, he’d fabricate a letter from his father to withdraw Christopher from Shiketsu. Then, when he didn’t show up for class tomorrow Rosethorn would first have to get a hold of James. In the best-case scenario, it could take hours for anyone to know he was missing. … Could Saraki cover his tracks in hours?

Christopher leaned towards yes. He fidgeted. He needed a counter. He pulled out his phone. The absolute easiest solution would be to tell someone he trusted where he was and set up a callback time with them. He had no shortage of people he trusted… but he needed something specific. He needed someone who’d care enough to watch the clock but would trust him enough to let him handle the situation until then.

He couldn’t text Faith. If she tried to dig up info on Saraki and got caught… Christopher shuddered. He wouldn’t risk it.

He couldn’t text Orochi. She had enough going on without being dragged into his bull shit.

He couldn’t text Sally. She’d ask questions.

He couldn’t text Imai. It’d eat him alive if something happened.

He couldn’t text Yui. She’d call.

He couldn’t text Hoge. She’d try to help.

He couldn’t text Ryusei. He’d tell Rosethorn.

He couldn’t text Rosehtorn. She’d save him.

He could tell Kaylee.

He could tell Inigo.

Christopher couldn’t think of anyone else to tell. He couldn’t tell his dad. He couldn’t tell Noah. He couldn’t tell Hifumi or Bobby. The more he thought about it, the more he knew most of his class would try to intervene. There were only two he hoped would respect that he might know what he was getting himself into.

He knew Kaylee and Inigo would wait if he asked them to. However, there was the risk that Saraki would find out who he told. The only person Saraki admitted to being scared of was a Top 10 hero. He respected or, at least, feared the upper ranks. Inigo was working under a disgraced heroine whose reputation was little better than Midas’s. Kaylee was working under the Number 2 hero in Japan. Kaylee was safer.

Christopher opened LINE.

Christopher ground his teeth as he waited for a response. None came. She was probably busy training with Saurus. Either that or she broke her phone again. What if… what if she had broken her phone? Should he tell someone else?

…

There was still no response. It wasn’t weird for Kaylee to be away from her phone for hours. Christopher didn’t know why he expected this time to be special. He was just anxious. He wanted to be assured that someone else was there, that they knew how to help him if things went tits up. More than that, he needed to stop typing. He wished his mind would stop treating this like the last time he’d get a message out.

He deleted the message. This had been what he’d wanted to do for the past month but had never been able to bring up. He’d wanted to apologize for getting his friend hurt. He’d never been able to work up the courage.

He deleted it again. What did he even want to say? Could he say ‘I’m sorry’ and leave it at that?

The elevator dinged as Christopher hit send. He looked up. The air seemed to chill as the doors revealed the rotund figure of Dr. Saraki. His dark sunglasses alighted upon Christopher. Light raced across the glass as their eyes met. Saraki smiled.

“Dr. Saraki.” Christopher greeted.

“Cain my boy!” Saraki boomed.

In a heartbeat, Saraki’s arm was around Christopher. Before Christopher could even register the violation of his personal space he was led into the elevator.

“Come! Come! We have a long day of testing ahead of us!”

Before Christopher could respond, Saraki punched the elevator’s buttons at random. His arm was still around Christopher. The boy couldn’t find the strength to speak. Saraki didn’t mind. “I do apologize if I seem excited. You see, I’ve longed to study a drawback like yours. This is a fantastic opportunity! … For both of us.”

Saraki finished punishing the elevator’s controls and jammed his thumb over the alarm button. Christopher flinched, expecting an alarm’s mighty clamor to assault him. It didn’t come. The doors closed. Saraki finally released Christopher’s shoulders with a contented sigh.

Christopher blinked as the elevator lurched downwards. He looked up. There, in the upper right corner of the elevator, was the floor indicator. It said they were going up. It lied. Christopher could feel gravity welcome him. They were descending.

Saraki, ambivalent to Christopher’s gaze, continued. “You see, there was a quirk user I sorely wanted to get my hands on. She had a drawback similar to your own. But… she was captured in America. It’s one of my greatest regrets.” Saraki sighed. Then he turned on Christopher with astounding vigor. “Do you know what happens when an interesting quirk pops up in America?”

Christopher tried not to answer, but Saraki’s silence demanded one. “… no.”

“The Slug takes it.” Saraki seethed.

“Grandpa Slow?” Christopher ventured. The snail kaiju was something of an American fixture. He was an inhuman genius and completely indestructible. He was also famously benign. It was his genius that led to the end of the warlords. He developed the cure for the Q-Plague. He designed Gehenna. He saved the world.

“Please do not call him that.” Saraki shook his head. “It’s a naked marketing ploy, giving himself a title meant to invoke the image of a tottering but well-meaning old fool. As if he means well! Do you know why he helps humanity?”

“…”

“Self-interest, a grateful species is less likely to devote research into killing him.”

Christopher frowned. Was that really the truth? Or was that the only reason something like Saraki could fathom?

Saraki didn’t want an answer. “Don’t get me wrong. His help hasn’t dissuaded us from trying to figure that out! The Americans are anyway I’m sure. At least they were, but they won’t talk to me about it anymore.”

Christopher started at that. “What?! Why?!”

“I suggested testing a modified virus that had a SLIGHT possibility of mutating–”

“No!” Christopher interrupted. Saraki being ostracized by his colleagues made more sense than anything else he’d ever said! “Why are they trying to kill Slow?”

“Oh! You misunderstand! It’s not that they WANT to kill him. They want to be able to.”

Christopher shook his head slowly. “What?” It was so stupid to his mind. A villain might acquire the research. They could accidentally succeed while testing and destroy one of the greatest forces for good in the world. Slow could... find out. Christopher couldn’t imagine what damage a creature of Slow’s intelligence might do if he grew bitter against humanity.

Saraki shrugged. “If you can’t kill something you can’t control it. We find that offensive.”

“We?”

“Humans.”

“But what if Slow–”

“What? Finds out?! HAH!” The elevator began to slow. “Trust me boy. He knows.”

“How would you know?”

The doors opened. Saraki smiled. It was a smile Christopher hadn’t thought possible on that creature’s face. It was soft. It was… fond. “He told me.”

Saraki left the elevator. Christopher stood there for a moment, frozen. His mind wasn’t able to process what he’d just heard. This morning he’d have never imagined a government conspiracy to kill Slow. The way Saraki told it, he felt naive for never considering it. The feeling of a world larger than anything he'd imagined loomed beneath him. It was a world beneath the public conflicts of heroes and villains. It was a world of monsters. It was a world where you could be fond of someone, like Saraki was of Slow, and still concoct plans to kill him.

It was Saraki’s world.

The elevator doors began to close. Christopher considered letting them close. He couldn’t shake the feeling that stepping off this elevator would be to plunge into the world of monsters. The doors crept closer together. He felt cold. The doors nearly shut. His necklace squeezed.

Christopher stuck his hand between the doors just before they finally shut. Soft rubber collided with his hand. As the doors registered the obstruction, they slid open again ominously.

Steeling himself, Christopher stepped out of the elevator. He grabbed his necklace, his dragon. Hitomi squeezed again reassuringly. She was warm.

“What are you doing?”

Christopher jumped. He looked up. Saraki was half-turned in the middle of a wide white hallway, his eyebrow raised.

“Well?”

“… I was just thinking.”

“Ah!” Saraki nodded as if that explained everything that there ever was. “I quite sympathize!” He began to walk forward, seemingly without caring whether Christopher followed. Christopher looked back at the elevator just in time to see the doors close. He didn’t see a call button. Maybe it was a remote device? Regardless he didn’t see an immediate way to get the elevator back. He was trapped.

Christopher gripped Hitomi tightly again. She was his only friend here. She was the only reason he was able to get off that elevator. The dragon perked at the attention. “You got my back?”

Always.

The necklace warmed again. Christopher took that as a yes. He chased after Saraki.

Saraki, heedless of Christopher’s delay continued to sympathize with Christopher’s absent-mindedness.

“I often find myself lost in thought over the most trifling matters. Just yesterday I found myself designing a cure for auditory quirks! Speaking of auditory quirks, another student at Shiketsu has a most remarkable quirk–”

Christopher tuned out Saraki as he droned on. The hall they walked was a sterile white floor lined with steel doors. The doors had small windows the size of a fist drilled into them at about eye height. Little meal slits were near the floor.

Christopher couldn’t help himself. As they walked, he glanced through the windows into the rooms. In one he saw a wretched-looking man muttering to himself in the corner of a room. The room looked off, almost like a clean room he’d seen at the Hospital. The man was in a straight jacket. Above his head floated the familiar wavy text Christopher had long grown accustomed to reading.

In another room, Christopher saw a little girl. Her hair done in pigtails. She wore a white coat, but unlike her neighbor her arms were free. She sat on a bed playing with a doll.

Christopher shuddered. The next room offered no comfort. A young woman stared madly through her door’s window. Her lips were scarred like she’d spent hours gnawing on them. Her eyes snapped to Christopher hungrily as he passed her window. She didn’t blink. She swayed side to side as he passed to get a better look at him. Above her head was a terrible text.

Christopher quickened his step. Saraki was still talking as if Christopher’s attention had never wandered. “Do you wonder my boy, whether quirks are getting stronger?”

“What?” Christopher asked, still adjusting to his abrupt entrance into the conversation.

“It’s the foundation of a fringe theory. That quirks grow stronger by the generation and will eventually lead to an extinction event.”

“…”

“You still have Search Eye copied don’t you?” Saraki smiled. “Did any of my patients strike you as someone that could end the species?”

“…” Christopher hesitated.

“Well?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do we!” Saraki trumpeted. “Perhaps Contagion could. Especially if he kept getting reinfected with the common cold. Absolute Zero worried me, but fortunately, she has to conceptualize the amount of thermal energy she’s leeching. She has to, on some level, be able to feel the heat. So, she can’t extinguish our Sun.”

“It’s airflow.” Christopher corrected automatically.

“Pardon?”

“It’s not conceptually limited. She needs airflow between her and the object.”

Saraki stopped in his tracks. The look on his face made Christopher wish he’d kept his fucking mouth shut.

“Fascinating.” Saraki sneered. “I’ll have to test that.” For a moment it looked like Saraki would abandon Christopher and immediately start designing a new test for his current patient. Then, the moment passed and Saraki resumed his walk.

“Truly, there’s only one patient here I’m confident could end our species.” As Saraki said this, they passed another door. Christopher looked through the window. He froze. Within was a black-haired young woman in her mid-20s. She was lying on a bed. An IV was in her arm. Her eyes were closed. She was unconscious. Christopher recognized her before he saw her missing index finger and that infernal flowing text.

“Kiera Konna.” Saraki stopped next to Christopher. “Do you remember her?”

Christopher didn’t move. Remember her? How could he forget? He’d identified her for Saraki after she and her compatriots tried to rob a bank. Was this how she’d lived since then? Strapped to a table kept in a permanent stupor? Was this… his fault? Hitomi grew cold around his neck.

“Yes.” Christopher managed.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

Christopher whirled on Saraki. The mustached man wore a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “She really is the most dangerous creature in Japan. Poor thing.” Those words felt mocking as they left Saraki’s lips. “If you hadn’t found her, I shudder to think what all she might’ve done.”

“You’re lying.”

Christopher knew it. Saraki didn’t believe she’d ever abuse her quirk anymore than Christopher did.

Christopher seen Konna fight Ryusei. He’d seen Ryusei cut her finger off. She didn’t use her quirk on him then. She could’ve stopped his heart. She could’ve made his sword disappear. She could’ve blinked him out of existence. She didn’t. She didn’t for the same reason Christopher hadn’t dropped a quirk in the last month. She was scared of her quirk.

---

Christopher knew it. Saraki knew it. They sympathized. Their quirks were scary too.

---

Saraki’s smile only widened. “Perhaps you’re right, but remember what I told you about Slow my boy?”

Christopher looked back at Konna, strapped into her bed like an invalid. Every second she lay in that bed damage was being done. Every week that passed was a month added to her recovery. He didn’t answer Saraki.

“No one with the power to make these decisions would ever accept that someone might not want to use their power. She will be controlled or she will be killed.”

Saraki turned on his heel and continued down the hall. “Besides! Who are we to say she’d never get over her fear? I did,” Christopher was about to spit an invective against Saraki’s back. He was going to tell him he was no standard for human behavior, but the bald man beat the boy to the punch. He said the one thing that could shut Christopher up. “and so did your mother.”

Christopher had nothing to say to that. He looked one last time at Konna. She hadn’t moved. She couldn’t. His teeth ground. He’d put her here. A moment ago, he’d been ready to break her out. It’d taken Saraki four words to make him abandon that idea.

People used scary quirks every day. Christopher was here so that he could use his. Why would Konna be any different?

Hitomi squeezed him reassuringly, but her flesh was still cold. She was upset. So was Christopher. He didn’t know what to do.

Christopher turned away from Konna and followed Saraki.

---

Saraki didn’t need to look back. He didn’t need to hear the footsteps. He knew Cain would follow. The empty hallway stretched featureless before Saraki’s feet. He didn’t turn his head once. He passed patients that had once been the source of endless fascination, but his interest had long since faded. Most of them were on the road to recovery. Some were slated to be euthanized. The remainder were like Konna, recovered, but too useful to let go.

Saraki put those wretched souls out of his mind. He saw the door he had longed to see. His destination. The radiology room. The room he worked so hard to put together. He threw the door open as soon as he reached it.

The room was a stark white. Linoleum clicked against Saraki’s heels as he entered. In the middle of the room was a white tube with a bed on a track attached. It was the treasured MRI machine. Behind the machine was another door. Next to that door was a clear glass window. Through the window, Saraki saw a room with a pair of monitors, an office chair, and a microphone on a plain wooden desk. It was the observation room. It’d be where he had his curiosity sated.

Saraki trembled with excitement. He pat the bed. “Lay down.” Christopher complied.

Saraki held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“… what?”

“It’ll interfere with the readings.”

Reluctantly, Christopher handed his phone over. The phone vibrated as soon as he let go. Christopher tried to snatch the phone back, but Saraki stuffed the thing in his pocket, his eyes rolling. On his list of needs, looking at a teenager’s messages would never be found.

Saraki turned to walk away only to see, out of the corner of his eye, Christopher’s necklace leap off his neck. He froze. Cain’s little black dragon landed on Saraki’s shoulder with a triumphant chirp. Saraki glared at the dragon. The dragon grinned back at him.

Deal with it Riku.

Saraki sighed. “Whatever.” He began to walk towards the observation room.

Hitomi turned to Christopher and thumped her chest in a dramatic salute. The boy finally let himself lie down. Saraki shook his head. He entered the observation room.

Saraki closed the door behind him. He sat on a blue office chair and turned on the monitor. Everything seemed to be set up to his specifications. Good. Hitomi followed his every action with uncomprehending scrutiny. He activated the microphone. “Lay still.”

“Alright.” Came Cain’s response. With that Saraki activated the MRI. Outside the room, Cain’s bed rolled into the machine. The machine thrummed with a visceral energy. In moments images of Cain’s brain began to appear on Saraki’s monitor.

Saraki frowned. There seemed to be no immediately visible damage. Which was… strange. If the boy lost his memories so frequently he’d expect to see some signs of trauma. Hitomi nodded dumbly at the monitor as Saraki pulled out a pad and pen and took notes.

‘Subject shows no physical trauma.’ It was a strange sentence to write. He’d expected something. As he flipped the pages, Hitomi held up the last page and obnoxiously read his notes. Did Cain tell her to be a nuisance or did it come naturally?

Saraki turned on the microphone. He paused. He could try to order Cain to drop Hitomi right now. She was annoying. She also seemed to represent the part of Cain’s mind aware of Saraki's quirk. However, the last time he’d uttered the word ‘please’ in this thing’s presence she’d nearly gouged his eyes out.

The dragon kept reading his notes happily. She seemed oblivious to Saraki’s contemplations. Should he risk it?

“Saraki?” Cain’s voice broke Saraki from his reverie. The boy must’ve heard the crackle of the microphone. Saraki put the dragon out of his mind as he spoke his instructions.

“Drop Search Eye for me.”

“…”

“Cain?”

“Yeah.” As that word left his lips Cain’s entire brain lit up like the sun. Saraki blinked. The light was gone.

“…” Saraki turned to the other monitor. Hitomi alighted on his shoulder. He loaded the image from just a few moments ago. It was incomprehensible. The entire mind lit up at once. Cain’s brain was rendered a strobing neon green for approximately .01 seconds before returning to baseline.

Saraki rewound the image and then played it again frame by frame. The most activity was centered around the hippocampus, the neocortex, and the amygdala as he’d hypothesized. However, all that proved was that the memory loss was real. It was disappointing how normal the brain looked after the neurostorm. It was like the quirk knew precisely what it needed to change to not damage the boy’s mind. That was… frustrating. What’s worse the neurostorm seemed to affect the three principle regions simultaneously. This experiment had told him exactly nothing.

Yet… there was something strange about the scans. Saraki couldn’t put his finger on it. His mind itched.

There’s not enough activity.

Saraki turned his attention back to the live feed. Baseline activity, Christopher wasn’t doing anything other than breathing. Hitomi stole Saraki’s notes. She flew to the corner and began to read. Christopher’s mind showed no activity.

Saraki’s eyes widened. He looked at the little black dragon. She was happily flipping through the pages. He looked back at Christopher’s live scan. Baseline activity, slight anxiety spike, nothing associated with movement. He looked back at the dragon. She had formed a little monocle and used it to examine a particularly hard-to-decipher word.

One last look at the live scan. No activity.

Saraki smiled.

---

An exhausted Christopher stumbled into his bedroom. He made it three shaking steps before he collapsed on his bed. Hitomi alighted on his back. She patted his head.

Christopher groaned. He was spent. Saraki had had him copy and drop several quirks, all under that MRI. Who knew how many people he’d met and forgotten in half an hour? He glanced at the clock next to his bed. Merciless red numerals displayed 1650. He needed to call Kaylee. He glanced at his phone.

On his home screen was a message from Inigo saying he might miss coffee this week due to a mission in Osaka. There was a message from Faith asking about his day. And a dozen other trivialities he’d found himself growing to expect over this last year. He scrolled past these messages. He’d come back to each in turn. He was searching for a single message sent early this morning when Christopher was scared he wouldn’t be allowed to leave that damned basement.

Christopher smiled. He’d agonized over whether he should dump this responsibility on his friend. She surely had her own shit going on. His worry just felt wasted now. He yawned. He better get this done before 1700 rolled around and she let Rosethorn know. He dialed her number.

The phone rang once before Kaylee answered.

“Chris?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna say something other than yeah so I know you aren’t a parrot?”

“Maybe.”

“Jackass.”

“Sorry.”

“You already apologized in your text.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing you’re not a fucking leaf.”

“…”

“...You gonna tell me what today was about?”

Christopher closed his eyes. He did, but he didn’t. He wanted to tell someone what he just saw. But he didn’t want to put anyone in danger. Konna flashed through Christopher’s mind. That broken comatose figure, lying there. She was a criminal, but she was also the victim of a monster. Worse yet! Christopher had delivered her to Saraki and then walked away. That ate him alive. It reminded him of how he felt when he saw Kaylee in September. When she’d been in the hospital. Another thing that’d been his fault. He hadn’t been making the world a better place, had he?

“I’m a bad person aren’t I?”

“… where the fuck did that come from?” Kaylee sounded offended.

“It’s true. I… never did apologize for wrapping you up in my bull shit with the Five. I got you hurt.”

“You didn’t apologize 'cause it wasn’t your fault. I went after Maddox. Even after you made me promise not to.”

“But I knew what you came for. You wanted a fight. I should’ve known you’d–”

“If you’re calling yourself thick I agree.”

“… I’m dodging what I did.”

“Then spell it out for me 'cause I’m lost.”

“I asked you to take me after the Five because I knew the prospect of fighting strong villains would make you help me. I knew you wouldn’t listen to my warnings about Maddox–”

“Bollocks.”

“What?”

“Bollocks. You’re making shit up. You didn’t know I’d go after Maddox. You’re not THAT fucking smart.”

“I’m–”

“Making shit up so you can blame yourself for how things shook out? Yeah.”

“…”

“It was MY fault, Chris. You don’t get to take credit for my daft decisions. They’re mine. They’re all I’ve got.”

Christopher couldn’t help it. The idea that someone would be protective over their stupidity. It was too much. He laughed.

“… It’s not that funny.”

“S-sorry.” Christopher kept laughing.

Kaylee sighed. “Whatever…” Christopher kept laughing. “You didn’t answer my question. What happened today?”

“…” Christopher stopped laughing.

“If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine.”

“I do, but… it’s heavy.”

“I’m strong.”

Christopher chuckled. She was.

“I’m seeing a doctor named Saraki. He helps people with… their quirks.”

“You need help?”

“I…” Christopher tried to steel himself. He’d done this before. He’d been discovered before. He’d been outed before. That didn’t make this easier, but if he wanted to ask Kaylee to keep confidence about seeing Saraki, she deserved to know why. “I forget people when I drop their quirks.”

“… is that why you’ve been holding onto Inigo’s quirk?”

“How’d you–” Christopher shook his head. How didn’t matter. “yeah, that’s right. I want– need to get this fixed. To do that, I need to work with Saraki. But...”

“You don’t trust him.”

“No. Fuck no. He’s–” Christopher shuddered. There was only one word to describe Saraki after what he saw today. Only one word that actually fit. “–a monster. But I think he’s the only one that can help.”

“Okay.” Kaylee’s voice gentled. “So you want to work with him to get stronger. I get that, but why does that make you feel like a bad person?”

“There were… prisoners at his facility. Their quirks are really dangerous but, I don’t know if they deserve what’s being done to them.”

“If you don’t know what to do, don’t worry about it,” Kaylee answered simply.

“That’s easy to say.”

“It’s easy to do. Only a daft cunt would rush in, release a bunch of dangerous quirks to the wild and damn the consequences.”

Christopher swayed this way and that. She wasn’t wrong.

“And Chris?”

“Yeah?”

---

“Thanks for telling me about… your condition. From how you’ve been acting, I guessed shit was wrong with your quirk. I wanted to ask a dozen times, but..." Kaylee didn't know what to say. She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him she'd always be his friend. That his secret was safe with her. That she had his back. That if Saraki ever touched him he'd be dead before he hit the floor. She didn't have the words to convey those sentiments, instead, she reported what she felt. "...I’m glad you trust me.”

---

Christopher's chest tightened. “Of course I do.”

“…”

“…”

The silence stretched uncomfortable moments before Christopher clumsily changed the subject. “...How’s your internship going by the way?”

Kaylee's immediately lightened, she'd needed the change as much as he had. "Saurus has me working on dramatic entrances.”

“Really?”

“You’d not believe the shit he’s got me saying. What’s worse? Shinkan’s good at it.”

“That’s… unsurprising honestly.”

“Yeah, it kind of is. Anyway…”

As the conversation droned on, night fell over the city of Kyoto. Though he listened, japed, and talked with his friend, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering. Was she right? Should heroes think through who to save? Shouldn’t they just help those in need? Shouldn’t the math be simple?

---

20 years ago

A girl sobbed in the corner of a dark room. A collar with a red light burned around her neck. Electrical burns scoured her flesh. Blood dripped from open wounds. She chanced a glance at the door. When she saw that hateful portal, her throat burned. Her nails dug into her flesh. She buried her head in her knees. That door was going to open.

Her life wasn’t always like this. She wasn’t always so scared. She had vague memories, before her quirk manifested, just last year, of her parents. They were nice. She had a lot of fun with them. Then… dad went away. Her mom didn’t know what to do after her dad went away. Then the Monster came.

When she first met the Monster he was kind, like dad. He’d talk about her quirk. Told her what she shouldn’t do. Told her what she could. She thought she could trust him.

She was wrong.

The girl shuddered as she looked at the door again. It was still closed. There was light leaking out from the bottom of the door. Someone was in the hall. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The girl heard footsteps.

Thump. ThumP.

The girl squeezed herself into a ball. It was The Monster. The door was going to open. He’d drag her out of here. He’d put her in the room. He’d tell her to do things. He’d order her to make things nothing. She didn’t want to, but if she didn’t, he’d press the button. He’d make her hurt.

THUMP.

The footsteps stopped outside the door. The girl held her breath, desperate to hide. There was no sound. The girl’s vision began to blacken.

THUMP. THUMp. Thump. thump.

The girl finally breathed as the footsteps carried the monster away. She wasn’t always so scared of the footsteps. There was a time, a long time ago, when one of the other Monster’s patients would come visit her. She was a girl too, but a big girl. She said she was going to be a hero. She said she’d save the girl if she were ever in trouble.

The girl didn’t remember her name…

The door opened. The girl’s eyes widened as the cruel light washed over her. The light blinded her. Her teeth gnashed. She grabbed her head. She hadn’t heard him approach. SHE HADN’T EVEN HAD TIME TO BE SCARED! IT WASN’T FAIR!

The girl tried to scream. Her lips wouldn’t part. Her heart thundered in her ears. Tears flooded. What was he doing to her now?!

“Konna.”

The girl froze. Her name. The Monster never said her name. She looked up. Crouched at the doorway was a girl a few years older than Konna. She wore a black jacket. She had burnt orange eyes. Konna remembered her. She was the other girl the Monster let her play with.

“I’m Hitomi, remember me?”

Konna nodded.

Hitomi placed a finger to her lips. “I’m glad, but you gotta be real quiet for me all right? I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Konna nodded shakily and her lips parted. Hitomi held out a hand. Konna took it. Without skipping a beat Hitomi led Konna out the door. There was banging from the broom closet across the hall, but Hitomi ignored it.

Konna started to cry as they raced through the halls towards the elevator. If Hitomi was caught, she’d been punished, or worse. Konna knew what happened when you were bad. Why would she risk that?

Who was Konna to Hitomi?

“Why are you helping me?!” Konna sobbed.

Hitomi smiled. It was the most reassuring smile Konna had ever seen. “I’m a hero, duh!”