They're hesitant. No matter what I look like, no matter how I seem to them, the warhead for a head, the fuses on my arms, I am still a child.
To these men, I must look ridiculous. Pitiful. Do they take pity on me?
"Who are you?" I ask.
"Your aunt is an old friend of ours," the old man says, cracking his neck. His meek posture was a lie. To go so far as to trick me like this is beyond ridiculous. "Said if we clobber you, she'll forgive us."
I am silent for a long moment. My aunt? Who? Her? No. We don't even look alike.
He freezes when I point at him, sparks flying from the tip of my finger. "That's what she called herself? My aunt?"
He smiles even as sweat beads on his forehead. "Threats! You really are similar. That bloodthirst must run in your blood."
My blood runs cold. I laugh. Us? As in… me and her? Similar? As if I could share even a speck of similarity with that crazy psycho.
"That's mean. You're comparing me to the devil, you know?" For some reason, I can't stop laughing. The notion is so funny to me, even though it should have me shivering in disgust. I'll have to tell her later, she'll laugh too.
"Take a look in the mirror, sonny. Devils stick with devils." The old man and his goons all take defensive stances, waiting for me to do something. Even the knowledge that I might be related to her scares them. To them, she must be hell personified.
In this room, I will be the same.
I make the first move. I turn and run at the man behind me.
The wolf heteromorph tries to predict my attack, but the room is dark, and I fight in a way he's never seen before. I weave and feint and trick and lie, just like I've been taught, the movements beaten into me.
He tries to block, to do anything, but it all ends with my hand on his stomach. His wolf claws slash at my back, and he tries stepping away thinking he's injured me.
I tilt my head up, and the fear in his eyes makes me giddy with satisfaction. I recognize that look, I recognize the way his face contorts and the way in which his pupils quiver. I know the look because it is mine. I've had that same look for weeks.
Not anymore. I've been training for the better part of two months. I am not scared.
Even as I will an explosion from the palm of my hand, even as the wolf man blows away and slams against a dusty wall, I only feel half of what I should. There is something missing. Being able to beat someone like this proves growth.
But it is half earned. Deep inside, I know this man isn't my target.
The wound on my back heals, my white shirt torn and bloodied so that all left standing can see it happen. If my head wasn't a warhead, I'd be smiling.
There's five of them now. I turn to look on at them but see only fear and confusion. Confusion at how a child was able to so quickly incapacitate a man twice his size. Fear that they might be next.
The old man frowns and unsheathes a sword. It glows as flames lick the blade. The dark room is painted a deep orange.
So he does have a quirk.
Others are armed with cleavers and knives, some with bats.
"If you come at me one by one," I say, pointing behind me. "You'll end up like him."
If my captor meant to test me, she should've tried harder. There is nothing she can throw at me that I cannot handle. Nothing except herself. After all she's done, all she's hit me with, she should know.
"My name is Fumio Kyoshi," the old man says, stepping up, gripping his long flaming sword with both hands. "Make sure to remember the name of your first defeat."
"Bring it."
He moves. I move.
He strikes high, I dodge low.
It must be so frustrating. I know. I can see it on his old, leathery face. The way his old wrinkles glow under the light of his own sword as I dodge another of his attacks, the way his face contorts.
I laugh. The sound unnerves him. He speeds up, but no matter how much he tries, he'll never be able to swing his arms faster than those invisible cuts that have torn me apart so many times. It's awfully slow.
I dodge again.
He knows, and I know, that everything he does, I have an answer for. Sometimes, I can't even dodge, my body too small and weak and slow to properly do anything.
It is then that his blade marks me, the fire seeping into the wound on my shoulder, burning the flesh over my chest.
He swings, and I realize too late that it is a feint. I lose my arm for it, the fire cauterizing the wound.
He presses on, thinking he has the advantage.
I twist my hips, dodging a slash. I make him think that's what I'm doing. He lets me get close on his right because, after all, how can I hurt him without my left arm?
Pushing his advantage, he tries claiming my other limb. I let him have it. He thinks he's won.
"But you never really thought you could win, did you?" I say, my left arm already healed, stretched out and up to touch his old face. "Did you?"
His eyes scream terror.
A kick comes from one side, a bat from the other. I'm knocked both ways, my brain rattling. I hate getting the feeling of getting hit in the head.
Kyoshi steps back and swings his flaming sword, splitting me from shoulder to hip.
That heals too.
"See? Demon through and through," he says. "You and her. Demons."
It heals, but the other cuts on my skin heal slower. I've reached my limit. I haven't had blood in a while.
I need blood.
No.
I need to end this.
I could end it right now, snap my fingers and blow them all to high heaven with the equivalent of a missile explosion. But that would ruin this place. The whole building. Plus, if I fail to kill even one of them, I'd be left with very little in the tank.
I need something smaller.
But they've wisened up now. They're coming at me all at once. I can't take my time to blow them all away without another one stabbing me from the back.
I've never had to deal with this. All my training, it's all been one on one. I never had to track more than one person at a time. It'd be troublesome if they wear me down until my regeneration slows to a halt.
I cannot die, but I can be reduced to a limbless potato without my regeneration.
They circle around me so I can't blow them all up at once. I don't have the fire power for a controlled blast radius yet.
"Your auntie told us about you," Kyoshi says. "Immortal, are you? Don't expect us to take it easy on you, sonny. You caught me before, I'll admit, I wasn't expecting you to regrow your arm that fast, but you have no more surprises up your sleeve now. We know everything."
I straighten up, surrounded. "Do you, now? And I suppose you have a plan in case I decide holding back isn't worth it anymore, right? What happens if I decide you'd look better as red paint for the parking lot out back? The stakes aren't balanced, you know? I'd lose what? A slice of real estate?" I laugh. "Remind me again of what you'd lose."
They all collectively shudder.
"But come on, jumping me with what, five of you? I'm just a little kid, you know? That's cruel."
"We can't take any chances," the old man says. "Not with you people."
"You people." The words taste like ash on my tongue. "What did my… aunt promise you if you win?"
"You're not just a kid, are you? Some sort of genius, too? This world really isn't fair," he says. He takes a deep breath, shuddering again as if recalling something particularly nasty. "But you don't know? I suppose she wouldn't tell you. You see, sonny, our crew used to be a dozen strong. Heists, robberies, turf wars, the works. And it worked. All ran like water over ice. A dozen of us. Now count again for me. Go ahead, count our numbers."
Including the wolf heteromorph I knocked out, they number six. "Half a dozen."
He chuckles. "Half a dozen, he says. Kids usually just say 'six', don't they?"
The others look uncomfortable.
"So what do you think happened to the other six, sonny? Hm?"
"Do you want me to guess?" I ask.
He clicks his fingers. They close in. "She killed us, kid. Not just flesh, our spirits, too. We've been her dogs ever since, obeying, scared of the hand that feeds. If we do this, she'll let go of our leashes."
Ah. That sounds like her.
I manage a moment of empathy, a single, short tug that connects me to these people. In a way, they are like me. In more ways, they cannot be any more different.
They're resigned, scared, like puppies locked in a little cage of her design. They can't gnaw at their enclosure, not because they have no teeth, but because they're too scared.
They don't want to kill her, I realize. Not in the way I do. I don't recognize that same drive in them.
They are not like me.
Which is why they will lose.
I grin. "You want pity from a child? I'm sorry to say, but you'll have to bear with her for a little while longer, old man."
I have three powers from three cards.
Bomb Devil.
Shivers.
Ricochet.
Shivers activates whenever it wants to, but I've been practicing ricochet.
[Ricochet: Toss coins. Hitting these coins with any projectile will make that projectile home onto your target.]
While the old man was talking, I managed to scrounge up some change, spare from when I had to run errands for a certain someone.
I hold my hand up towards him, five coins between my fingers.
The old man snickers. "What's that? Five hundred yen? You call that a bribe?" The others laugh tensely. "Maybe you really are a child."
Without a word, I throw the coins up above our heads.
Everyone watches as they spin, as they catch the flickering light of the burning sword. It seems an eternity, as if they're frozen in time, all the attention in the room sucked up by that simple movement.
I slowly raise my hand as the coins reach their apex. "I'll put in a good word."
Sparks fly.
Snap.
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AN: I hate ALL of you! Fine, whatever, we're close to 100 powerstones. If we hit that by the time I wake up I'm releasing 2 chaps tomorrow.
Also, please leave suggestions for FLs and such. I already have someone in mind (Canon to MHA) but I wanna know who other people like.