Chapter 5: Issue #5: Orange Trouble​

That… should not be possible.

'I'm sure, I'm 100% positive I activated my quirk erasure as he was falling, my eyes were on him the entire time. He shouldn't be able to use his quirk.' Shota Aizawa, known as Eraserhead, thinks, watching the illegal vigilante Smiley 'run away'.

“Tsk. Not rational at all,” he mutters to himself before jumping from the building he's perching on and begins to give chase to the elusive vigilante using his scarf to swing around by tangling against surfaces and poles.

Watching him 'fly' through the sky above the buildings and changing directions midair, Aizawa ponders his decision of following the guy around and wonders if he should have stayed a few more minutes in his sleeping bag before going on a night patrol. He tries to activate his Quirk again, but it appears it doesn't have any effect again as he keeps watching him 'fly'.

'How?' he asks himself, trying to come up with a response to why his quirk isn't actually activating. His first thought was that Smiley is quirkless. 'But that would be impossible,' he mulled.

He can 'jump' in the air, move fast and hit hard. He tried to remember instances of his previous encounters with heroes, villains and assailants.

'A mutation quirk perhaps? But I can't see any abnormalities or additional appendages… must be hidden then,' he concluded, but the implication just left a sour taste in his mouth.

'What a drag… These types are the worst,' he thinks watching him go. He sees Smiley take a sharp turn between two buildings and disappear again. 'And he's gone,' he concludes after arriving at the spot and looking at every direction possible 'Is he trying to blend in with the civilians?'

Changing position to another building, Eraserhead tries to pinpoint his target going by size comparison. From the notes he managed to get his hands on from the police reports, it described him as a young adult male of short stature who wears a yellow 'Smile' mask and mix of black clothes. And he's considered as one of the possible suspects in a case of assault with lethal weapons.

“Hm, not rational, not rational at all… ” he muttered. No hair color to go by, no distinctive appearance, no mannerisms, just size. “Probably changed clothes already.”

One peculiar detail from the case regarding the 'Smiley' vigilante was his involvement. The victim of the case survived but didn't disclose any details that would help in the investigation. The victim had vague recollections of the events of that day. Two armed assailants and a voice that told her that everything is going to be fine before the arrival of the ambulance.

From the reports of a hero on patrol that day, managed to see a man of small stature, probably 5 ft tall, dressed in black, towering over the victim and vanishing as soon as he tried to engage. The hero had a glimpse of a yellow mask when he got close but he wasn't completely sure if it was important for the investigation. Assailants that hide their face behind masks often discard them after a hit.

Not this one apparently.

Aizawa had his doubts, especially if you take into consideration the testimony of the victim, brief in comparison to the report, and the state of the captured assailant. Why would the accomplice attack his partner after shooting the victim and leave without taking any valuables?

The captured assailant is in intensive care at the hospital. Fractured bones and internal bleeding. It's a miracle that he's even alive today, and he's in no condition to talk.

After all, a person in a coma could wake up after a few weeks… or months… or years.

'Maybe I should've teamed up with someone to approach the vigilante,' he thinks, watching kids with their parents walk by, salarymen coming back from work and old men walking alone or with their wives. An annoying memory of Yamada teasing him appears in his mind 'Like hell I'm going to call him.'

Giving up, Eraserhead decides to get down from the building and start to lazily walk the streets. Following after villains through the roofs gets tiring after a while.

As he keeps comparing sizes with the people he sees he notices that the only size that fits the description of Smiley are kids, small teens and old people. Maybe the vigilante suffers from the dwarfism disorder?

Lost in his own thoughts, Aizawa misses a boy of the same size with white hair wearing a hoodie, ordering ramen from a stand he's walking by.

---

That was close.

'Hiding spare clothes next to a dumpster was a great idea. I hope Salt enjoys miso,' I think, while ordering three miso and one tonkotsu ramen to go. I finally gave in and accepted Salt's suggestion of hiding clothes in safe spaces or with him so I could change in times of need. I didn't have a reason to do it at the beginning, but now I'm so glad I did. 'Can't believe that crusty old man was right.'

Taking the packaging containing the orders I take the route through the alleyways until I'm at the usual meeting spot, 'Salt's Alley' an affectionate name the kids picked for the place I frequently drop by to bring food and other goodies.

“Hey guys,” I announce my arrival while holding the food in my hands and carrying my 'Hero' disguise in my backpack.

I blink as I admire the somewhat open alleyway. Filled with crates, boxes and low budget furniture. Ever since the kids decided to pay us a visit that day, this place underwent massive renovations to accommodate them, made by Salt and I. We used crates to build furniture such as stools, small tables and beds so they can all sleep above ground. And we used cardboard to generate some sort of mattress, not as comfortable as the real thing, but gets the job done and when dirty we can replace it with new material I… borrow.

The kids perk up at my arrival and I receive an annoyed grunt from Salt.

That's weird. There's another person here. He doesn't smell like someone I have ever encountered before so I rule out the possibility of another Hero or Villain passing themselves as a homeless man. The putrid smell is proof enough.

“Hey Gurē! We brought a friend!” “Shh, dummy! This place is supposed to be secret. Do you wanna wake up the grown ups?”

'And they say my name after I told them it was super secret,' I sigh softly, dropping the food on the main crate table, thingy. I take off my backpack and sit on one of the stools.

I let my sight linger on our new companion. A teen with brown hair, plain features, dirty clothes and smells like he fell in the gutter. Considering the state of their clothes it might as well be the case. I sigh and start to unwrap the food I bought for everyone.

Well I was feeling urges to drop by a place that could serve me a nice steak and a gallon of water later. I'll eat ramen another day.

“You have a name?” I calmly ask, giving the first bowl and chopsticks to Salt, then the kids and finally I take my bowl and offer it to the teen. Now that I see him up close he looks like five or six years older than me. “Want some?”

“Kon… mm, thanks.” he replied.

'Not the talkative type. I can work with this,' I think watching everyone eat. I'm not feeling particularly hungry right now.

Salt must've noticed the atmosphere, because between making disgusting slurping noises he starts to narrate one of his boring tales. This time about his time as a carpenter in a small shop that was later bought up by a corporation to demolish it and erect a building in its place. Of course he only focused on the woodwork and the type of wacky characters he met during his time there.

I see the teen paying attention while eating very slowly. I smile softly.

Hm. If we're going to start admitting more people into our circle, then I'll need to find a way to feed them without burning through my savings. Steali- borrowing money like this would only take us so far. Maybe I should invest in cooking utensils and cook for them myself. Salt told me I was improving.

I'll have to look into it.

'We need a safer house too,' I think, trying not to grimace. Sleeping in the open, even with the adjustments and improvements we managed to do with Salt, is a small band-aid to the real problem. As more individuals join us, the possibility of getting kicked out by the authorities would become more apparent.

I guess I'll have to keep borrowing money. And save on everything I can. Which reminds me. That scarf fellow had a wallet on him. I hope I'm not stealing his life savings with my stunt earlier.

'No time like the present,' I think, fishing it out from my backpack 'I'll ask Salt to read the details of his hero license for me.'

---

'Um… today is 'soup night', so I need more spices and meat bones. I can get the vegetables from my patch,' I think while browsing the market. It's been a few weeks since the last time I visited one. Since then I've been meeting 'new' homeless people from the area, some of them contacted by Kon or the kids, Daisuke and Emiko. The majority come with the intention of eating for free, but I managed to garner a few connections on the way, mostly with the younger ones.

I guess people respect you once you feed them. I wish a few of them could put some of their funds in to help alleviate the load though. But no such luck with people in need.

Oh well.

I let out a sigh while taking a look at the types of herbs this store has. The search for the specific type of brand of smoked chilli flakes that my grandma used to use on our food has been a complete bust. Normally I just pick anything and move on, but the memory of Salt calling my food 'Just Ok' still pisses me off.

'Grr, that crusty old man, I'll fucking show him,' I rage in my mind, finally deciding on the spiciest brand, oregano and different kinds of seasoned salts. Better buy in bulk and store it in containers in 'Salt's Alley' or in the woods, I'll find them by smell later. 'Just ok? I hope you like spicy food then, Heh!'

As I finish my business with the spices I move out and walk towards the next aisle with the intention of buying more rice, the supplies from last month are starting to run thin with the growing size of our group.

I breathe in. It almost feels natural now. Sometimes I lose concentration and forget to maintain it during my daily activities, but it became a big part of my routine during the conditioning of my body. I can already feel the fruits of my hard work, diet and proper breathing as my developing muscles flex. They're starting to show now after years of training, even after I managed to reverse engineer the Six Skills all by myself. This world's physics are so dumb.

My body freezes as my nose catches a particular smell.

'I know this smell… ' I grimace, walking more slowly now. He's in the same aisle I'm currently approaching, or that's what my nose tells me 'Of all the places I could find him, it had to be here.' I lament.

'Well, I won't waste the opportunity to return his wallet' I put a blank face and approached the rice, sugar and coffee section. As I make my way towards my target, I bring up the act of 'Kid who regularly buys groceries is too concerned if he got everything that forgets to look where he's going'. My body smashes slightly against “Eraserhead”, Shoto Aizawa, or that's the name Salt read for me.

He directs his sight towards me, but I engage in the next part of the plan 'Kid who is so apologetic about the whole situation that he doesn't let the person finish his sentences'.

“Please excuse my rudeness, I wasn't looking where I was going,” I bow down two times, give another apology and move away from him.

Mission success. He won't notice the extra weight in his back pocket until he arrives home and by then he would've forgotten about my appearance. I smirk in satisfaction.

'Sucker'

“Wait.” I hear him say, stopping me right on my tracks.

'Oooooh shit!! What the fuck did I do?? How did he notice it so fast??' Sweat falls down from my brow and very slowly I direct my gaze at the grown man holding a small container labeled 'Smokey Chilli Flakes [Very Spicy!]'.

“You dropped this.”

“Thank you so much” I sharply respond and turn back with the intention of getting as far away from this man as possible. Making a beeline towards the checkout I sigh in relief.

I'm so glad I decided against stealing from him again.

---

Rocks fly in my general direction and my hands move at incredible speeds with the intention of intercepting them. As my hands catch, punch away and deflect the incoming projectiles I hum in mild exasperation.

'Salt was right about the contraption, again!' I think, deflecting the last rock away. Sighing I begin collecting the fallen rocks across the floor and resetting the mechanism Salt helped me build. 'Of course he also was a hunting trap nerd in his youth. What's next? Did he also work as a chef?'

I breathe in, going beyond 20 seconds this time and slowly let out the wind from my lungs. Rocks fly again and this time my hands move much more fluidly than last time.

Let your movements be like the water from the stream, moving through the cracks

It's been months since I started to invest my time in finessing my movements to imitate the flow of water. All that time I spent investing in increasing the control in my techniques I've been thinking of alternatives to take down enemies stronger than me. While daydreaming during my training I had a revelation of what kind of 'Martial Arts' I would like to learn, those being the defensive Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist and the offensive Whirlwind Iron Cutting Fist.

Martial arts capable of evading, redirecting and deflecting, while also hitting, cutting and destroying. Of course there are more I would love to learn and implement to my growing arsenal. But some of them require perfect control of one's body and an impeccable reaction time. Something I currently lack. So I decided I want to master what I know right now and push myself in the direction of the next step in my training.

That being the weaponizing 'Paper Arts' technique.

The concept of 'Paper Arts' is relatively simple. It's basically the opposite of the 'Iron Body' technique. Instead of training all my muscles and then harden them so my body can sustain a considerable amount of damage. I relax all my muscles and sharpen my senses so I can evade incoming attacks in movements similar to a paper.

The only instance I saw it being used as a weapon was in conjunction with the 'Finger Pistol' technique, but even then when I visited the wiki after reading the Enies Lobby arc in the manga, it only catalogued the technique in the 'Finger Pistol' section without mention of Paper Arts. Or at least, that's what I remember.

I release the wind from my lungs and once again I begin to pick up the fallen rocks. Once I'm able to catch every single one of them while still in the air I'll have to ask Salt to help me develop a faster one, maybe integrate knives this time.

I should start carrying large rocks in each arm to increment the speed of my arms.

I suck up a large amount of air and relax every single muscle in my body. Or try to. I haven't mastered this technique yet.

Like the water of the stream…

My body moves through the flying objects, I manage to evade the great majority, but I still get hit by a few of them. It's still a work in progress after all.

But I have time to learn it. I'm not particularly in a hurry right now.

Maybe I should find a way to utilize 'Storm Leg' from my arms?

A thought for later.

---

Another morning of training, another day of patrol and another night of cooking.

It's been about a year or two since I've met Kon and the kids. They're quite a joy to have around… unlike someone I know. Since the integration of Kon to our group of misfits we've been kicked out from 'Salt's alley', parks and other alleyways. The authorities have been wising up about the increment in numbers of 'loiterers' in the city. That would be partially my fault, since I started to use my cooking as a way to generate connections with people like us and of course feeding them.

We still kept contact with a few of them from time to time, but it was hard to find them once we started moving from one place to another.

Until one day someone besides the cops or heroes showed up. And let me tell you, it was godsend.

Thugs from some drug dealing business tried to kick us off from the alleyway next to their warehouse. They worked independently which means, nobody would miss them if they abruptly stopped their business. A good beatdown and a promise of a painful death if they ever come back and now the place is ours.

Since then our group has only grown in size. More people in need of food and shelter came to us. So with the help of Salt and Kon, we created a nice space for people to live in and/or help us in our community work. We had to open a hole in one of the walls to create some sort of stand with tables and stools to serve food to anyone that needs it.

Of course, even if we tried to stay away from trouble, we would often receive visits from drug addicts, thugs, drug dealers and muggers. I would often deal with the more violent ones and thanks to the guidance of a few of the members of our little group, and Salt, I've been trying to find peaceful solutions to any problems that come our way.

I hum lightly as I stir up the contents of the stew in a big cooking pot.

“That would be enough Cream, sorry for making you do this. I'll pay for the electricity next month,” I smile to a teenage girl who has a really weird electric type quirk.

She can generate a certain amount of electricity in her normal state, enough to charge one or two cellphones our group put around her. But the output increments when she's in a state of pain. The only other method we found to increase the electricity output without hurting her, is letting her go hungry for a while. The boost in electricity from her hunger is enough to power up car batteries and multiple appliances, such as the electric stove I'm using at the moment.

“Hum! Don't forget to save me a big portion this time!” she happily replies, releasing the cord of the stove and disappearing through the door of the warehouse.

“Sorry for the wait. Here you go guys!” I say with a small smile serving big portions to go to every 'patron' in the stand “Chicken stew with rice on the side. If you want a second serving let us know. Don't forget to throw away the container into the trash once you are done!” I say to them as they get up thanking me for the food and going in different directions once they get out of our alley.

I let out a sigh. I take a big bowl with the name of 'Cream' written with permanent ink and serve her the big portion she asked for. She'll probably share it with one of the dogs she and a few of the new homeless kids are taking care of.

You are reading story The One Who Could (MHA) at novel35.com

Calling for Emiko I ask her if she can take the bowl to Cream. Once she's gone I start to clean the stand and stools with the help of a small towel.

'There's not much food left. So after I'm done here, I'll do another nightly patrol and call it a day' my nose picks the distinctive smell of Kon walking against the wind with someone who smells like burned skin and… blood.

Calmly I stop cleaning the last stool, put the rag in my back pocket and raise my sight to Kon walking with a teen, no, a young adult. Dirty and burnt clothes, spiky dark hair and… burnt skin holded together by staples. I don't even know if he stapled his skin by himself or by a professional doctor.

His smell puts me on edge.

But, I've never refused anyone because of their smell before, and I don't plan on stopping now.

“Gurē, I found him sleeping in the park, so I brought him here,” Kon tells me, then sits down with the guy next to each other on the stools.

'Asshole, I told you to stop saying my name!' I internally scream, keeping my poker face on. I enter the stand and start to serve them both the two big portions of stew. Blood or not, I won't stop serving people in need. I smell like blood too after a day of patrolling the streets.

“What do you know, this is good,” I hear my new patron say, making me smile.

“See Kon? You should be more like our friend here, he knows what's up,” I tell him with a smug grin. I hear Kon's response of 'whatever' as I serve his companion another portion. Maybe I overreacted about the blood thing, this guy probably has to fend for himself alone in the streets, not going to judge a book by its cover. “Sorry if it's a little cold, I had to send our walking battery to the back.”

“No worries,” he says to me while holding the bowl between his hands. I catch a glimpse of small blue wisps coming below the plate. In less than a few seconds the stew is steaming and without further ado he begins to eat again.

'So, a fire type quirk, a powerful one at that' I think, wondering if I should try to invite him to our community, nothing bad with trying though. Now that I look at him up close he looks pretty familiar, but I don't know where I would've seen him before.

“Do you have a name? Mine's Gurē, no middle or last name.”

“... I go by the name of Dabi now,” he tells me between bites but his expression looks less calm and more neutral now, like he's trying to figure something out “I responded to your question, now you have to respond to mine. Why are you doing this?” his expression doesn't change much, but his eyes tell a different story. It's like he's wanting for me to say the wrong thing.

“Do what? Cook for free? Feed anyone hungry from the streets? Is that your question?” I ask, keeping my cool. The fact that I'm trapped behind the counter of my stand doesn't help me at all. But nonetheless I respond when he nods “One day, I woke up alone and scared in an alleyway. I couldn't remember who I was or why I was there. I grew up for years alone until I found a way to help people like me. I didn't have any need for money, so I decided to use what I could get so I could feed my friends. Eventually people started to show up.”

At first his expression remains the same. Then he smiles, but his face looks anything but happy. He looks annoyed now.

“Haha… another goody two shoes,” he laughs, standing after finishing his food he starts to walk away while patting his clothes “Your kind pisses me off.”

Kon looks pissed, but I put a hand on his shoulder before he can tell him off.

“If you ever feel like eating my food again this stand is always open after the sun sets. We have warm beds too if you want to spend the night here” I tell him. I misinterpreted this guy, he's just a damaged teenager with powers of destruction. I hope he finds a solution to whatever is making him mad one day.

“Heh… I'll think about it.”

As I see him walk away I wonder if I should've said something else to make him stay.

After all, that was the last time I saw him again.

---

A small balloon drifts through the skies. A yellow one with a ridiculous illustration of the current Number #1 Hero plastered on it. My hand reaches for it, completely stopping my movements as soon as I catch it, causing my body to rapidly descend towards the ground.

At the last second I kick the air and hop in the direction of a startled crowd with a kid crying his eyes out while her mother tries to tenderly comfort him.

Reminds me of my mother.

“Here you go little one! Try not to… ” I cheerfully say holding the balloon in front of my mask, making All Might my temporal face “... Lose your Might! Heh-Heh!”

Complete silence.

I hear someone cough in the back.

Well… I guess the kid is no longer crying. I consider this a total win in my favor.

“Heh! I thought it was pretty clever! Here.” Moving closer, I remove the balloon away from my 'face' and give it back to the kid “Try to hold it harder this time, Ok?” the kid gives me a timid nod and takes it from my hands. I hear a faint 'thank you' and a few comments of recognition from the gathering crowd.

Did someone call me lame?

An explosion behind me jolts me up and I look back just in time to see a car flying towards us. Without thinking I kick the ground 20 times in less than a second and in combination with 'Iron Body: Smash' I direct my fist to the car with all my strength crumpling it and stopping its momentum. The car falls to the ground.

Thank god nobody was inside it.

I hear gasps, screams and quiet comments behind my back as I try to keep my breathing under control. That impact took a lot of me. It hurt like hell.

“Heh! What a troublesome situation. Get to safety everyone!” I scream, jumping towards the rising smoke of another car set ablaze close by. I can see another Quirk user causing trouble.

Try reason with them. If they keep trying to start up shit, you kick their ass.

'I can only hope that I don't have a sudden flashback with Salt on it before I die. I don't want his ugly mug to be the last thing I see' I sigh, remembering the skill tree I developed with Salt regarding future 'Villain' encounters in case of it being desperate guys in need of a quick buck.

“GROAHHHH!!” I hear him scream. A shiny orange fellow with rippling muscles and bumps all over his hands and shoulders. He's barely dressed in some shorts. The image of a green guy of the same size and purple shorts appears on my mind. I snort, trying to contain my laughter.

'Ngh… Focus!'

Observe, Learn and then Act.

It punches the asphalt cracking a great portion of it, then it directs his attention to the car on fire and picks one of the tires and throws it to one of the fleeing pedestrians.

'Well, there goes my first question.' I zip forward and kick the tire away before it can hit a woman holding her groceries 'A strength type and his skin has a small shine to it… a metal? Bronze, maybe?'

He notices my presence and rushes at me. Is he driven by sounds?

“GRAAAAH!!”

“No need to hold back, I can take it big guy! Heh!” I say back and intercept his fist with mine tensing all my muscles in anticipation. No need to hold back against someone who isn't in their right mind.

The impact of his fist colliding with mine is so strong that my feet get planted on the asphalt creating cracks under the weight of the rampant quirk user. My entire arm rattles in discomfort. I'm feeling a slight pain in my arm and fist. I thought that, by this point, I would barely feel pain when using my fists against any hard surface, but I guess that statement was meant to be proven wrong. This isn't like the impact from the car before. His body is made of solid metal.

I groan as my entire body shakes trying to keep with this guy. Before I decide on a new plan of action I see his other fist moving at my face.

'Can't allow people to see my face' I think, quickly disengaging and putting both of my arms in front of me, tensing all my muscles again. Another powerful impact rattles my bones and sends me flying far away from the weird bronze guy 'Guh, I need to step up my game or I'll be crushed'.

Not wanting to waste the momentum this guy gave me I kick the ground 20 times adding more speed to my movement, then I do it again in a different direction, then again, and again, and again. I can barely see my surroundings. It almost feels like the world stretching around one focal point as I increment my speed.

“Razor, Iron Fist” I gently said, guiding my speeding form towards the orange mass, smashing my fist against his hard skin. My hand shakes as I see the bronze guy soar away and hit the ground, hard, leaving a body print and cracks all around.

I breathe out. I even forgot to maintain my breathing while fighting. This guy ain't no joke.

'Rngh… I-I can barely feel my arm,' I think, grimacing. My whole arm feels like it got a nasty sunburn from that stunt. I don't need to see it to know my knuckles are bleeding. 'Please stay down Mr. Orange Hulk, I don't think I can do another hit like that.'

I hear a few shouts of praise and clapping around me.

Why are they still here?

My ears detect a groaning sound at the distance. Fuck me, this guy ain't down yet.

'I don't think I can pull that off again,' I think, regaining my breathing. I breathe in. I can feel myself calm down and think logically. 'Brute force is off the table, I haven't trained my body to sustain this kind of damage yet' I breathe out. My body feels reinvigorated and the pain in my left side starts to dissipate, at least temporarily.

'That leaves plan B. Deadly force.'

Bronze Hulk screams at me once he's on his two feet. Shakes his head and begins his charge towards me.

Breathe in… Breathe out…

*SNAP*

A flash of light blinds me and I hear the loud sound of a picture being taken. My opponent stops on his tracks, disoriented, blinded by the flash too. Shakes his head and then directs his attention to a guy holding an expensive looking camera.

Oh no…

“Razor!” I panic, kicking the ground so hard it cracks it. I find myself approaching the bronze muscle-brain who is trying to rush towards the camera man. My body spins in place generating speed in the process and I deliver a powerful strike with my leg to his stomach “Iron Crush!”

“GHRK!” spits fly from his mouth as my leg connects and the impact launches him towards the middle of the street. I try not to cry in pain as my entire leg feels like it's on fire. All the muscles in my leg contract by the sheer amount of pain caused by the collision. I haven't had cramps like this since I unlocked 'Shave' for the first time.

My feet touch the ground and I wince.

Breathe in…

I can't stop. I need to keep going.

Breathe out…

Using 'Shave' this time I move my body in the same direction I sent the orange guy flying. My body appears next to his. I can see the imprints and cracks of my fist and leg against his torso but looking directly at his face, makes me realize something. He's relentless. Moving faster than I anticipated he forms a fist and throws it to my face.

Breathe in…

Time moves ridiculously slow as both of my hands flow forward in a fluid motion and with a slight exertion, redirects the flow of the incoming fist, to its owner's face.

“Water Flow,” I gasp out, feeling an incredible amount of pain. I hear a loud 'Clang' as I let out another gasp as both of my arms shake. They feel like jelly.

The secret of 'Water Flow' is the speedy use of 'Paper Arts' and 'Iron Body' at quick successions one after the other with the intention of moving fluidly but with the necessary strength to redirect attacks and counteract. It's a bastardly version of 'Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist' martial arts. But it's not ready or perfect. Even after years of training and conditioning my entire body to do amazing feats such as recreating and using the 'Six Skills', they still feel like a weaker version of the real deal.

And this one ain't different either. After one or two uses my arms would not stop shaking due to the exertion. I could still use them, but it requires more effort to keep up, and relaxing is the only way to regain control of my limbs.

But I don't have that luxury right now.

My hands shake while I hold the same position. Then in a swift movement I move them in one circular motion in front of his torso. Creating a powerful impact in spiral motion against the still disoriented bronze muscle-brain.

“Whirlwind Storm,” similar concept, but this one requires a great amount of speed and force. The same motion of “Storm Leg” with my hands in a circular fashion, creating what I believe is to be something similar to the “Whirlwind Iron Cutting Fist” martial arts. But this one doesn't hold a candle compared to the original.

The only plus 'Whirlwind Storm' has over 'Water Flow' is that it doesn't hurt my arms after each use. I attribute it to the fact my body is already used to 'Storm Leg' training in all of my appendages.

I breathe out watching the hulking guy who casted a shadow over me, fall down, eyes rolled back, mouth agape. His torso, carved down by my technique.

“Man, that was so tiring. You didn't let me even speak you big meanie,” I say, trying to maintain the cheerful persona after going through an emotional and tiring battle exchange. I put my hand in front of his mouth, checking if he's still breathing and I sigh in relief after I confirm he's alive. I try to give another snarky comment, but is drowned by the sounds of people cheering for me and cameras flashing.

'That's weird. This is the first time I've seen someone with a black tongue,' I think, watching the Hulk knock off, rather large tongue hanging out from his mouth.

I hear small steps approaching me from behind. I think I recognize the smell.

I look behind me and grimace.

'Oh, not this guy again!'

---

A/N: I'm starting the author notes around 900 words in, because I'm struggling to get the chapter done, changing perspectives and adding new characters to the story is such a drag I had to stop myself several times. This chapter was meant to be posted 2 weeks ago lol (It's done now. So glad!)

Normally I wouldn't introduce new characters to a fic, and if I did, I would've skipped these types of scenes all together, but I wanted to show a more human side of Gurē as a character and I felt the introduction of a few OC would benefit the pace of the story, creating mundane scenarios and slice of life. So far, we have seen him grow little by little as a person during the early chapters, but his actions are still too vague and he needs to learn a few lessons along the way. Create short and long term goals.

Such are the problems of the youth who suffer from lack of education.

Anyway, sorry for the rant.

By the way, the next two or three chapters, we'll be starting the first proper “Arc” of this fic. Which is going to be the Instant Villain arc from the spinoff manga of MHA, “Vigilantes”. I hope you can enjoy it, we will spend a lot of time developing characters, meeting new faces and creating events that will change the future.

One last thing. What did you guys think of Dabi's cameo? And, who do you think it's going to be the person behind Gurē in the next chapter? (And no, it's not Aizawa)

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