Today's chapter
If you like the fanfic, add this to your library. Powerstones and comments are greatly appreciated!
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT
1) I think some people are confused how Muscular even surpiresed, as he was, as I said, 'Nuked'. That was my bad, I got too in flow, that I started using words like this without thinking. It has been change to a tactical bomb. Sorry for the confusion, that was on me.
2) I will be traveling today, (A really long azz flight) so when we hit the 500 powerstone checkmark, I wont be able to upload the chapter on time. Don't worry tho, it will be up whenever I land and have internet access again.👍
Again thx for the support, and enjoy the chapter.
Joe out,
--<<>>--
"Anger issues," Akira muttered, rubbing his temples where a headache was starting to form. "And being more decisive. That's the side effect? I see this as a win, then."
Silence hung in the room for exactly one second.
Then, Nezu laughed.
"HAHAHAHA!"
It wasn't a polite chuckle of a gentleman.... or a gentlerat. It was a full-bodied, manic cackle that seemed too large for his small, furry frame. He slapped his knee, his tail swishing back and forth with delight.
"Decisive!" Nezu wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Yes! That is a much better word for it! Oh, I love the branding! You have a politician's tongue, Akira-kun!"
Akira looked at his mother and grandmother. They looked just as disturbed as he felt.
"Does my having anger issues give this rat so much happiness?" Akira asked, his voice flat. "Is my psychological instability a joke to you? Do I need to contact HR? Does U.A. even have HR?"
Nezu wiped his eyes, calming down slightly but still grinning. "Oh, no, no. It's not a joke. It's just... refreshing. Usually, students cry about the morality of violence for at least a semester. You skipped the angst phase entirely!"
He leaned forward, his black bead eyes glittering with an intelligence.
"It makes things so much easier."
Recovery Girl's eyes went wide.
She dropped the clipboard she was holding. It clattered loudly on the marble floor.
"No," she whispered.
Akira looked at her. "Grandma?"
"NOOOO!" she yelled.
The scream was so sudden and loud that even Nezu flinched. Recovery Girl moved with a speed that misrepresented her age. She vaulted over the foot of the bed, landing between Akira and Nezu. She raised her syringe-shaped cane and pointed it directly at the Principal's face like a loaded shotgun.
"I am not letting that happen!" she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "I am not letting you put a paw near my grandson! Step back, Nezu! I swear to Asklepios, I will skin you!"
The room froze.
Akira stared at the back of his grandmother's head. He had never seen her like this. She was usually the grumpy, tired school nurse. Right now, she looked like a lioness defending a cub.
Honoka sat up in her bed, wincing as her broken ribs shifted. "Mom? What are you talking about? What is he thinking?"
Recovery Girl didn't lower the cane. She didn't look away from Nezu.
"He is thinking THAT," she spat the word like a curse. "He sees a boy with a high-yield quirk, a traumatic backstory, and a sudden willingness to use lethal force, and his rat brain goes straight to the gutter!"
Honoka's face went pale. The blood drained from her cheeks, leaving her looking like a ghost. She looked at Nezu. She saw the look in his eyes.
"No way," she whispered. "You... you wouldn't."
Nezu's smile didn't falter, but his ears twitched. "Honoka-kun, please. Consider the variables — "
"HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK OF THAT?!" Honoka screamed, finding her voice. "HE IS JUST THIRTEEN YEARS OLD, YOU DUMB RAT! HE'S A CHILD!"
"OKAY, OKAY!" Nezu raised his paws in surrender, though he didn't look particularly threatened. "Call me a rat! Call me a rodent! Insult my species all you want! That is fine! BUT DO NOT QUESTION MY INTELLECT!"
He stood up on the chair, puffing out his chest.
"I AM THE SMARTEST BEING IN THIS COUNTRY! I RUN THE CALCULATIONS! I SEE THE PROBABILITIES!"
"Oh yeah?!" Recovery Girl yelled back, jabbing the cane toward his nose. "Then how come you came up with such a brain-dead decision?! Are you senile? Did the tea finally rot your brain?"
"He is built for it!" Nezu argued, pointing a claw at Akira. "Look at him! Look at the profile! High intelligence. Combat adaptability. A duality quirk that covers both infiltration and assault. And now? A mindset that accepts necessary evil! He has the best resume out of thousands of candidates! Even the Commission's 'best' look like amateurs compared to his potential!"
"He is my son!" Honoka roared. "Not a weapon!"
"He is already a weapon!" Nezu shot back. "He turned a canyon into glass! Fucking GLASS!! Do you want him to suppress that? Do you want him to bottle it up until he explodes?"
"I want him to have a childhood!"
"That ship sailed the moment he tried to kill Muscular!"
"THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"
The yell shook the room.
Everyone froze. They turned to the bed.
Akira was standing there. But he wasn't just standing.
His hair was floating, defying gravity as if he were underwater. His eyes were glowing a violent, neon red. And his arms... his arms were engulfed in crimson flames again.
The heat in the room spiked instantly.
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" Akira yelled, his voice layered with a distorted, avian screech. "WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING?! WHY AM I ON FIRE AGAIN?! WHY AM I SO PISSED OFF?!"
He grabbed the metal railing of the bed. It glowed orange instantly, bending under his grip like putty.
"I feel like I want to punch something!" Akira gritted his teeth, the veins in his neck bulging. It will take a while to get used to this."
Recovery Girl lowered her cane. She looked at him with heartbreak in her eyes. "Oh, Akira..."
"Mom," Honoka said urgently, "get the thing."
"On it," Recovery Girl said. She turned and sprinted out of the room, moving faster than any elderly woman should be able to.
"Take deep breaths, honey," Honoka coached, trying to keep her voice calm despite her own panic. "Focus on me. Look at me. Don't let the fire win."
Akira squeezed his eyes shut. "It's not that.... It's just that I feel so irritated for no apparent reason! Is this how, imo kids feel?"
Honoka just sighed, hearing this.
"It will take me a while to get used to this," he gasped, sweat pouring down his face. "It feels... addictive."
Just then, the door slid open.
Recovery Girl rushed back in. She was holding a long, slender object made of polished dark wood and brass. It looked like an antique kiseru — a traditional Japanese smoking pipe —, but the bowl was replaced by a small, glowing blue cartridge.
"Here," she said, shoving it into Akira's hand. "Smoke this. Now."
Akira's eyes went wide.
He looked at the pipe. He looked at his mother.
"I am allowed to smoke?" he asked, genuinely baffled. "I'm thirteen. Isn't this illegal? Are we doing crimes now?"
"Shut up," Honoka snapped. "This isn't a smoke. It's a medical inhaler disguised as a pipe because Nezu has a weird aesthetic. It contains a concentrated calming agent derived from calming herbs."
"You are not the first hero to have severe anger issues linked to a fire quirk," Recovery Girl explained, tapping the device. "Now inhale."
"But isn't this bad for my health?" Akira asked, holding it gingerly. "Vaping is bad, Grandma. I read the pamphlets."
"Yeah, well, if we were still in the early 2000s, maybe," Honoka sighed. "Technology has come a long way. It's harmless vapor. Just take the hit before you melt the floor."
Akira looked at the pipe. He looked at his burning hands.
Well, he thought. It is what it is.
He brought the stem to his lips. He inhaled deeply.
The vapor was cool. It tasted like mint and jasmine. It flowed into his lungs and from there, directly into his bloodstream.
The effect was instantaneous.
The irritation stopped.
The flames on his arms flickered and died, leaving only small wisps of smoke.
Akira's eyes widened. Then, his eyelids drooped.
He slumped back onto the pillows, a cloud of blue vapor escaping his lips.
"Wow," he breathed. His voice was slow, smooth, and utterly devoid of stress. "I can finally think straight."
He looked at the pipe with reverence. "This is magic. Can I keep it?"
"It's a prescription," Recovery Girl muttered, taking it from him but leaving it on the bedside table. "Keep it with you."
Akira nodded slowly. "Understood. No fun allowed. Only medicinal chill."
The room settled. The heat dissipated. The plastic cup had solidified into a puddle of goo.
Nezu hopped back onto his chair. He adjusted his tie, looking unbothered by the fact that he had almost been assaulted by a senior citizen.
"Better?" Nezu asked.
"Much," Akira said, staring at the ceiling tiles. They looked fascinating now. "So peaceful."
"Excellent," Nezu beamed. "Now, back to business. Since you are in a more... receptive state of mind."
He leaned forward.
"I want to ask you the question again, Akira-kun. Just to be sure the previous answer wasn't just adrenaline talking."
Nezu's eyes narrowed.
"If you faced Muscular again. Or someone like him. Someone who threatened your mother. What would you do?"
Akira didn't hesitate. He didn't need to think. The answer was the same, but the delivery... the delivery was different.
He turned his head on the pillow to look at Nezu. His face was relaxed. A small, lazy smile played on his lips. He looked like he was discussing the weather.
"I told you," Akira said softly. "I would kill him."
He took another shallow breath, eyes half-closed.
"But if I couldn't... if the law was watching... I would dismantle him. Biologically."
He lifted a hand, tracing invisible lines in the air.
"I would use the Blue Flame to hyper-stimulate his pain receptors. Then I would use the Red Flame to burn his nerve endings off. Then I would heal them back. Burn. Heal. Burn. Heal. I would do it slowly. Methodically."
He chuckled, a soft, sleepy sound.
"I would turn his own body into a prison of agony that he would beg the universe to unmake him. And when he finally breaks... when his mind shatters... I would heal him one last time and leave him in a cell, trapped in a perfect, healthy body with a mind that screams forever."
Akira blinked slowly.
"Is that the answer you wanted, Principal?"
The silence in the room was absolute.
It was heavier than before. It was colder.
When he had screamed it in rage, it sounded like a tantrum. It sounded like trauma.
But saying it like this? With a smile? With the calmness of a monk?
It was terrifying. The guilt was gone. The hesitation was gone.
Honoka covered her mouth with her hand. She looked at her son as if she didn't recognize him.
Recovery Girl gripped her cane, her knuckles white. She looked at Nezu with an expression that said, See? This is what I was afraid of.
Nezu, however, didn't look afraid.
He smiled.
"Yes," the rat whispered. "That is exactly the answer I wanted."
Akira sat up slowly. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He felt light. He felt clear.
He looked at the three of them. His mother, the broken hero. His grandmother, the worried healer. And the Rat, the calculating mastermind.
"Now," Akira said, gesturing with the pipe. "Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on? Why did Grandma pull her cane like a gun on you? Why is Mom looking at me like I just confessed to a war crime? And what is 'THAT'?"
Honoka looked at her mother. Recovery Girl looked at Nezu.
Nezu sighed. He stood up on the chair, clasping his paws behind his back.
"They are protecting you, Akira-kun," Nezu said. "Or trying to. They want you to have a normal life. A normal education. U.A. High School. Sports Festivals. Hero Licenses."
"And you?" Akira asked.
"I want that too," Nezu lied smoothly. "But I also see reality. I see a boy who has skipped the line. You have experienced war... kind of. You have experienced the kill-or-be-killed mindset that most Pros don't develop even in their thirties."
Nezu hopped down from the chair and walked over to the bed. He looked up at Akira.
"You are doing all that," Honoka accused from the bed. "You are grooming him."
"I am offering him a choice," Nezu corrected.
He looked at Akira.
"Tell me, Akira-kun. What do you know about the Hero Society?"
Akira frowned. "It's a society where heroes stop villains. Where All Might smiles and saves the day."
"That is the brochure," Nezu said darkly. "That is the surface. The bright, shiny layer we show the public to keep them happy and paying taxes."
Nezu's grin widened, revealing sharp teeth.
"But underneath the surface... there are shadows. There are threats that All Might cannot punch away because punching them would cause a political incident. Some villains operate in the gray. Some problems require a scalpel, not a hammer."
Akira stared at him. He didn't know the specifics, but the concept wasn't foreign. Every bright light casts a shadow. In his old world, governments had black ops and wetwork teams. It made sense that a society run by heroes would have a mechanism to deal with the things that didn't fit in a lunchbox.
"And?" Akira asked.
"And," Nezu said, "we need someone who can walk in both worlds. Someone who can be the Shield in the light... and the Sword in the dark. Someone who can heal the innocent... and burn the monsters until there is nothing left but ash."
Nezu extended a paw.
"Your mother wants you to go to Aldera Junior High and pretend to be normal. I am offering you a different path. A mentorship. Directly under me."
"Nezu!" Honoka warned.
Akira looked at the paw. He looked at the pipe in his hand. He thought about Muscular. He thought about hope.
Fuck hope, he reminded himself. That night, he hoped for safety. He hoped for help. He hoped for a safe path, but all of that was killed by cold reality. He did not want to be the symbol of hope like every other person. No, the world already has that. He wanted to be something much more brutal, something every villain is scared of.
He looked at Nezu.
"Keep talking, Nezu," Akira said, a small, dangerous smile forming on his face. "I'm listening."
--<<>>--
And that's how it turned out. What do you think? I tried to cook up a theory about quirk influencing the mentality of a person.
Let me know what you think.
And I see the powerstones nearing 500 powerstones. The bonus chapter is near.
Plus if you want, you can read up to +10 chapters (It's 9 right now, the final advanced chapter will be up soon) and support me you can alway join my P@treaon. (Just search up Joe_Mama p@treon on google.)