Chapter Text
[Original Chapter Uploaded - October 14th, 2021]
[Revised Chapter Uploaded - January 7th, 2023]
[Secondary Revision Uploaded - November 20th, 2023]
[Third Revision Uploaded - December 15th, 2023]
The chime of a bell echoed out throughout a relatively empty convenience store on a late Friday afternoon. The person who sat behind the counter was too busy looking down at his phone, completely disinterested in the fact that someone had entered the building. The only reason he was aware that someone had entered the store was because the bell had rang.
"Welcome to Q-Mart, have a good day," the man said, his tone dry and uncaring whilst he flipped through his phone, reading over text messages and laughing at jokes he came across. Every once and a while he would glance up from his device just to make sure that the person who had entered the store wasn’t robbing them—that had been happening a lot as of late, and his manager was starting to get annoyed.
However, much to his confusion, no one was there. At least, at first glance, anyway. His eyebrow raised, he put his phone down on the counter, a slight frown worming its way onto his face.
The man’s eyes scanned through the immediate area, and after a few seconds of looking around, he finally saw someone at the back of the store where the drinks were kept. The person in question had a rather uninteresting appearance. Their face was obscured by the fact that they were facing away from the cash register, which didn’t help much with identification.
They had chin-length blonde hair, and they were wearing a rather basic school uniform, consisting of a black long-sleeved sailor-esque uniform top with a thigh-high frilled skirt and white stockings. It wasn’t hard to tell that she was a female student, though from which school the cashier couldn’t tell. Uniforms all looked the same nowadays. Oh well, not that it mattered.
The man huffed, waiting for the teen to approach the counter. A few minutes went by, and the girl never came to the register. Confused and worried that the store potentially got robbed again, the cashier looked up, only to find that the girl hadn't moved from the back of the store. She stayed by the drinks area, which was adjacent to the slushie machine and the chips aisle.
The cashier was confused about the girl’s behaviour. It was almost as if she didn't want to be noticed. He could tell that was the case with how she was looking around at her surroundings every now and again. Another few minutes would pass, and the teen still had yet to move from the spot she was in.
If the cashier didn’t know any better, it was almost as if she was trying to act normal. Was she with someone? Was there going to be a robbery? Or, on a darker note, was she trying to hide from someone? A stalker, perhaps? It was possible, all things considered. From the angle he was looking at her from, she did kind of look a little attractive.
Not his type though, and a little too young for his taste, but it wasn’t hard to see how a girl like her could have someone follow her around. He was ashamed to admit it, but she had some good-looking thighs. Nothing too outrageous, but just enough to make a guy her age ogle at them.
If only she was a little older. She looked to be around fifteen, maybe sixteen. He was twenty-three, so he knew it was bad for him to be staring. So instead, he shifted his attention to something else about the girl.
The more the cashier looked at her, the more he noticed just how small she was. She was barely as tall as the shelf in the store, maybe around five foot three inches, at best. He was guessing because that was how tall he was, and he stood around the same height as her. Another thing he noticed was what she was doing.
The blonde was eyeing up a red Rabbit Boost—a Miruko-themed energy drink—flipping it in her hand a couple of times. It was strange. Why flip the can? Was she planning on buying that? If so, why was she inspecting it? Maybe his theory about someone stalking her was right. He was about to ask if she was going to buy the drink, until someone came bursting through the front door, the bell chiming once again, earning a glance from the teen and the cashier.
The person who entered the store was a tall man and a rather burly and intimidating one at that. They didn't seem all that old, maybe around their early to late twenties at best, and early thirties at worst. The man in question had short black hair in a crew-cut style, bulging with muscle. He wore a no-sleeve leather jacket with a white tanktop underneath it, and black leather pants held up by a brown leather belt. He had the startings of a beard and a mustache, which made his punk-esque appearance look incomplete.
His expression was one of anger and rage. His red eyes narrowed as he turned his head around to scope out of the building. If the cashier didn’t know any better, he’d say that the man was looking for the schoolgirl. And if he was unsure about that, what the man said next all but confirmed it.
"Where the hell did that bitch go!" The man spat, glancing over at the cashier, who had looked away immediately not wanting to cause trouble. The man was most definitely referring to the schoolgirl. But why? If that was the case, was he her father? No. He looked nothing like the girl. So that meant he was most likely an assailant or stalker she ran away from.
In all honesty, the cashier didn't know if that was the case, nor did he care. All he wanted was for the man to leave. He couldn’t force the man out, and if he tried it wouldn’t end well. The guy looked like he could tear the cashier in half with ease. So, that wasn’t going to happen. No way in hell was he going try and get in that man’s way. He could privately call for the police, but that would be too much of a hassle.
His best choice right now was to pretend that nothing was going on and hope that a hero would notice if the girl was taken away. What was going on here was none of his business, and it never would be. As sad as it was to admit, that was the truth.
However, just as the cashier was looking away, he noticed that the girl had moved. She had gone from the back of the store and moved toward the front, sneaking up behind the man from one of the aisles closest to him—that being the candy bar aisle. And from there, the cashier was able to get a look at her face.
The first thing that he noticed was that her features were soft. She had baby-blue eyes and slightly pale skin, and as far as he could tell there were no blemishes on her face. No make-up, either. If he hadn’t been sure about her being at least sixteen before, he was now. No third year in high school looked like that. From his experience, they looked far more mature than what that girl appeared to look like. It made his thoughts about her from earlier sound even weirder now.
Just as he averted his eyes from the scene at the entrance, for a brief “blink and you’ll miss it” second, he could’ve sworn he had seen a pink arm appear and then disappear. As if it was a trick of the light. He also could’ve sworn that the girl glowed in a bright pink aura.
The sight had caused the cashier to look back at the scene in sheer awe and confusion. The pink arm, from what he saw of it, had worn a strange black glove that went all the way up to its forearm, fitted with golden studs. And on the front of the glove was a strange golden emblem of an even stranger-looking skull.
The arm appeared to have been reaching out toward the man who had stormed into the building. The arm then proceeded to touch the center of the man’s back. It made him straighten out from his semi-slouched posture, as he reached for something in his pocket. A weapon, probably, which made a pit form in the cashier’s stomach.
The moment the cashier blinked the arm had disappeared. But where it had touched the man, something strange showed up. A large boil appeared in the center of the man's back right where the ghost arm had touched. When that happened, the man flinched, his hand dropping to his side as his expression twisted into one of sheer pain.
The cashier was about to say something, but as he did, the man made a face as if he was about to vomit. The cashier’s eyes widened, and out of nowhere, the girl who had gotten behind the man began to put her arms up to cover her face as if she were about to take cover from an explosion. The cashier was confused, all until the boil exploded. It had blown a massive log-sized hole through the man’s back and stomach, blood and viscera going all over the place as the man vomited up a pool of crimson liquid in the process.
The cashier had to shield his eyes from the explosion, but not before he noticed that it had knocked the girl back and into the glass entrance door of the convenience store. Despite the size of the explosion, no collateral damage had been caused. And yet, despite that, it was powerful enough to have knocked the teen back and was as loud as a real explosion. When the cashier looked back up, the girl had started getting up from the floor, brushing her skirt off with her hands.
However, that wasn't what caused the man to become even more confused than before. Sure, he was fairly certain that he had been a witness to a murder, which in and of itself was terrifying enough. But the strange part about it—aside from the literal murder that had just happened—was the fact that the man's body seemingly disappeared, along with the large pool and splatters of blood. In place of the blood was a rising stream of smoke from the spot where the body had once been.
Whatever kind of Quirk the girl had was one that could instantly kill anyone and blow away all evidence that there was a murder in the first place, aside from maybe camera footage. That was what caused him to be confused, alarmed, and more importantly scared.
His eyes wandered over to the blonde, who had made eye contact with him, the pit in his stomach growing. With a downright sociopathic, emotionless expression on her face, the girl made her way over to the cashier as his eyes widened even further with fear. Thoughts of potentially being killed plagued his mind as the teenager approached, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
"P-Please, don't kill me! I-I—" The man didn't finish his sentence, as he was interrupted by the sound of a can of red Rabbit Boost being put firmly on the countertop. He stopped cowering, and looked at the can, then back to the girl, back to the can, and then finally back to the girl. Her expression hadn’t changed even remotely as she stared at him, her eyes reflecting no life behind them.
"How much?" The girl asked, her voice cold and lifeless as she looked at the cashier, who gulped audibly. The only reason why he didn’t start crying was because her voice was soft and gentle—most likely because she was young. But that wasn’t the part that he cared about. What he cared about was that there was no emotion behind her voice.
It rang alarm bells in the back of the cashier's head, alerting him that she was more than likely a bit of a psycho. He really should’ve called the police, but if he tried chances were the crazy girl in front of him would kill him and flee the scene. So, rather than risk his life for the chance that the crazy chick was arrested, he decided to do his job as a cashier.
"U-Uh… a thousand yen!" The cashier spoke quickly, grabbing the can before scanning it and putting it in a bag. The girl put ten one-hundred yen coins on the counter and took the bag, before giving him a second glance, one filled with seriousness and a silent but obvious threat.
"Do me a favour, and keep quiet about this, okay? Nobody needs to know this happened, understand?" The blonde said, her tone colder than ice as the cashier swallowed back his fear and nodded. As the girl left the store, he let out a sigh of relief, the bell ringing as his head made contact with the check-out desk, whilst he whimpered in fear.
As that happened, the blonde-haired girl walked away from the store, checking behind her to make sure no one had seen her enter or leave the building. Thankfully, the coast was clear. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, and to say that she had been shaken was an understatement.
She was thankful she had been able to keep up the "cool, calm, and collected" façade for as long as she had. If she had been in that store for even a single second longer, she would’ve cracked and panicked. That wouldn’t have been a good thing, because that would leave her vulnerable, and no one needed to see that.
The teen didn't like confrontation, period. It was a rule of hers to try and stay out of it as much as humanly possible. She was glad that the cashier had been too petrified to do anything other than allow her to purchase her drink. If he had called the police, things would’ve gotten more than a little hectic, and that would’ve been something she wouldn’t have wanted to deal with.
But that brought the question of why she had killed the man in the first place.
The answer to that question is rather simple. The man had tried to make a move on her while she was making her way home from school, to which she slapped him like the prude he was. It had angered him, and thus he chased her to the convenience store, which resulted in what had just happened.
All in all, her afternoon had been going rather poorly. All she had wanted to do was go home, rest for a bit, and then go to work. Was that so hard for a young girl to ask? The world thought so, hence what had just happened.
The young girl’s name was Yoshihara Kira, and she was fifteen years old, turning sixteen in two months on October 13th. She lived in uptown Musutafu, a few blocks away from Aldera Junior High, where the single-room apartments were, and she was single.
She was a third-year student at the aforementioned school, and she typically got home every day around 4:30 pm after finishing some after-school studying. She usually went to bed at around 11 pm after coming home from work and doing a few pages of an assignment. Even though she didn’t typically get eight hours of sleep, she usually woke up without any fatigue or stress, and according to her doctor, she had no prior or current physical health issues.
Overall, if she were to ignore all of the bad things in her life, Yoshihara had lived a rather peaceful and quiet life. However, it wasn't always like that. From the day she was born, she had been met with hardship after hardship. At the age of six, she ran away from home due to… issues and had lived on the streets up until a few years ago, though it wasn’t much better. She now lived in a crappy apartment thanks to the money she got from her job.
Oh well, it was better to have a roof over her head rather than not having one.
While her life wasn't the best, it was what she had to work with and as far as she was concerned she was fine. Even if some of the stuff she had to do to get money was humiliating for a girl her age, she didn't care. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough.
Yoshihara had what some might call a 'boyish' appearance. She had chin-length blonde hair and a rather ordinary face, which didn't help with the 'boyish' appearance all that much. She had a small chest, which caused many girls at her school to bully her for her small bust size—not that she ever cared about that in the first place—and she stood at an average height of five feet four inches.
She had a slightly muscular physique due to her workout routine that she did to keep in shape. There were a few times that a couple of people tried to pick a fight with her, but it typically never went well for them. While she wasn’t a pro fighter, she did know a few things, such as proper stance and how to throw a good right hook when the time came. Living on the streets taught her that she needed to know how to defend herself if push came to shove.
Most of the time, when she did get into fights at school, they were over with fairly quickly. She had never lost a single time in an after-school fight. Not even against some of the strongest people in the school, aside from the known people to stay away from. But then again, she never actively looked for fights. All of the times she got into fights, it was because people came to her, and demanded it out of her.
She could only guess the reasoning, so she chalked it up to an ego thing. It wasn’t hard to hear how a lot of people didn’t believe that she could beat up kids twice her size, so she was challenged to fight more often than she wanted to admit.
She didn’t accept most of them, mostly because she was too busy to deal with dick-measuring contests. If she were a pettier woman, she might’ve done it more often. But she had a life and a job that she needed to attend to most of the time, so she ignored the majority of the taunts.
Yoshihara was pretty healthy for a girl her age, especially compared to some of the other girls in her school. Although, much like most teens who lived on their own, her diet wasn’t the best. Most of the time, she would eat store-bought ramen or a sandwich. If she was lucky, she’d buy takeout, but if she did that she would run out of food money for the week, and go hungry for a few days before her paycheque.
It was humiliating, to say the very least. It was bad enough that she lived in an overly expensive apartment that was hardly even worth the money she was spending on it, but adding that she could hardly pay for food, coupled with the stress of school and work… to say she wasn’t in the best of headspaces mentally wasn’t exactly far from the truth.
She didn’t have a family. Her father had left the picture a long time ago, and the less she spoke about her mother, the better. As far as she knew, she had no extended family to go to, leaving her all alone in the world. The only people she had to call friends were her co-workers, and even then that was a bit of a stretch.
But, as the saying goes “Make do with what you got, because sometimes that’s all you have.” And while it had worked for a while, it was starting to take a toll on Yoshihara. Not that it mattered. She had a plan. All she had to do was make it through the rest of the day, and she could finally move on.
That, however, was for later.
As Yoshihara made her way to her apartment building, she stopped just a few feet away to stare at it with a frustrated gaze. The building was around six stories tall, and her apartment was on the fourth floor. Her staring contest with the building was broken when her stomach growled, making her frown. She hadn't eaten since this morning. She didn’t have enough money to buy extra food to pack a lunch, and she certainly didn’t have enough money for cafeteria food or stuff from the school vending machine.
She was on a tight enough budget as it was, so she couldn’t go spending money all over the place. She only made 190,000 Yen a month. While that sounded like a lot, when you stop to consider that Yoshihara’s rent was 120,000 Yen a month, you start to realize just how poor she was. Add onto the fact that the electricity bill for the apartment was 37,168 Yen, and the Gas bill was 20,097 Yen a month, that left her with a measly 12,735 Yen for food, potential new clothes, and services at the end of the tunnel.
And she somehow had to squeeze her way through the month with that kind of money. She was lucky the landlord added the water bill to the rent because if he didn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to afford food at all—and that wasn’t even mentioning her phone bill. Her phone bill was thankfully only 6,000 yen a month, but that then left her with only 6,735 yen for food. Which, if converted into American Dollars, was only a measly forty-five dollars. Hence the poor diet she had.
When Yoshihara made it to the building, she wasted no time and put her apartment number into the number pad outside of the front door. When a click reverberated inside, the door unlocked, allowing her to enter the apartment building.
The interior was nothing to pay attention to. There were two plants near the entrance and a hallway that broke off in two directions. The hallway had apartments going down both sides, labelled 101 through 115—she would know, because her floor was styled the same way. Off to the right of the entrance was an elevator, which was where she was looking to go.
She quickly made her way to the elevator and pressed the call button. She tapped her foot against the carpeted floor as she whistled, waiting for the elevator to get to the bottom floor. "Come on, you stupid thing, hurry it up…" Yoshihara muttered, glancing up at the ceiling. The elevator usually took a while to get to the bottom floor, as it had a historic past of breaking down due to it being outdated.
The building had been in this particular lot since the age before Quirks, so it was rather ancient—according to the owners, it was built in 1998 and had hardly received any upgrades since then. To make it worse, it was the cheapest place imaginable, both figuratively and literally. And not cheap as in rent, she meant that it was cheap as in how much of a cheapskate the owner was.
The person who owned the building never bothered to replace most of the equipment like the elevator. While the building had undergone some earthquake safety changes, nothing else changed about the building outside of that.
It was a real wonder how the HMA hadn’t shut this place down for being too unsafe to live in, but that wasn’t exactly something she wanted to think about right now. She just wanted a little downtime before she had to go to work. The last thing she wanted to have on her mind was the possibility of her being displaced because the HMA did their job for once.
"Ah, waiting for the elevator, I see…" a raspy yet soft voice spoke out at the entrance of the building as Yoshihara glanced in that direction. The person to whom the voice belonged was another resident of the building. He was an old man, around 75 years old and balding. He was around four feet eight inches tall, dressed in a plaid blue shirt and a pair of brown slacks with suspenders. He was what some might call the doting grandfatherly type, despite not having grandkids of his own.
"Ah, good afternoon Sasaki-san," Yoshihara said, walking over to the older gentleman to help him through the door. When she did, the old man smiled at her in the only way an elderly gentleman could.
"Ah, thank you Kira-chan. It seems I’m in your debt again," Sasaki said as Yoshihara walked him over to the elevator.
“Nonsense. I’m just doing what anyone would do, Sasaki-san,” Yoshihara replied as Sasaki chuckled.
“I suppose so. I suppose so…”
Sasaki was Quirkless, and that was because of when he was born. Due to that small fact, he couldn't do much on his own especially due to his old age. Most people pitied him, but not enough to where they actively went out of their way to help him, even the other residents. So Yoshihara helped him out whenever she could. It was just the right thing to do.
A part of her felt bad. Who was going to help him when she was gone? She honestly didn’t know, but for what it was worth, she just hoped he’d get along just fine without her. She was still here, though, so she might as well continue her usual line of discussion with him.
"How was work, Sasaki-san?" Yoshihara asked as the elevator dinged. He smiled, humming to himself as the elevator opened. The two walked inside, Sasaki first and Yoshihara second, as Sasaki coughed into his elbow.
"Ah, yes… well, it was the same as usual, although something interesting did happen today" he replied, clearing his throat. "We had a couple of villains come in and try to rob the old store next door, but Endeavour just so happened to be in the area," Sasaki recalled as he continued to talk about how his day went.
Every day he would tell an interesting story from his time at work, then he would ramble about how stupid his ex-wife was before finally giving Yoshihara a one-hundred yen coin for listening to his ramblings. Then, he would return to his apartment, and she would do the same.
"… And that is why I divorced her!" Sasaki shouted in his soft voice as the pair stood in front of his apartment. "Ah, anyway, thank you for keeping an old man company," he said, handing Yoshihara the one-hundred yen coin. She stared at it briefly. Did she really need it after tonight? Then again, Sasaki would ask why she wasn’t taking it, so Yoshihara did what she normally did and took the coin.
"It's always a pleasure, Sasaki-san. I know how it can be when you're always alone. Not being able to talk to others starts to get to someone. I'm just glad I can help," Kira said, causing Sasaki to smile once again.
"Have a good day, Kira-chan," Sasaki waved as he unlocked his apartment, and began to walk inside. But just before he closed the door, he looked at her, a glimmer of worry in his eyes. “I couldn’t help but notice, but your eyes look different today. They don’t have that usual youthful gleam about them. Is something the matter, Kira-chan?”
Yoshihara faltered, looking away. “No. It’s quite alright. I just had an off day at school. It’s nothing to worry about.”
Sasaki frowned. “Kira-chan….” He drawled, in the same way, a caring grandfather would when they were concerned before continuing. “I don’t know how often you hear this, and I don’t know your situation, but, I just want to say that you matter. Don’t do anything reckless, dear. Otherwise, who else will talk to me after work?” Sasaki joked at the end, but the message was heard.
Yoshihara cracked a small smile. “You don’t have to worry about me, Sasaki-san. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will, Kira-chan. You take care of yourself as well,” Sasaki said, closing his door, as Yoshihara turned to her apartment, which was on the left of Sasaki’s. She crouched down, lifted the welcome mat that was placed outside of her apartment just like all the others, and grabbed the key underneath. She then put it into the lock, twisted the key, and unlocked the door before opening it and taking the key with her inside, closing the door behind her.
Her apartment wasn't all that great. Then again, none of the apartments in this run-down building were. It was a small two-room apartment. There was a joint living room and kitchen, with a room off to the side that functioned as a bathroom. She had no bedroom, so she slept on a pull-out couch.
Some would call it a waste of money, but for Yoshihara, it was all she had. It was either that or the street, and she would rather not live on the street…
"Never again…" Yoshihara thought, frowning at the idea before she brushed it aside, her expression returning to normal. Taking off her shoes by her door, she walked to her fold-out couch and threw herself onto it. She didn't want to do anything, not after today, but she had work to get to in the next couple of hours, so she didn’t have much of a choice. That, and she was ahead of the class in terms of schoolwork. She didn’t have a TV, so all she had for entertainment was her phone.
She didn’t pay for any kind of streaming subscriptions. So there was no Netflix, no Hulu, and no Disney Plus. She didn’t have that kind of expendable income to afford that, as sad and depressing as that was. All she had to rely on was YouTube, the original video-sharing platform, or HeroTube, the other one made by Google to jump onto the whole Heroics thing.
Yoshihara sighed, taking her phone out from her skirt pocket—one that she had put into the skirt, might she add. Customization was allowed, after all—and turned it on. Opening up the HeroTube app, she scrolled through a couple of videos, until one had caught her interest.
"All Might stops a burning building from toppling over, saving thousands? Boring…. Hero Killer Stain's latest Kill? Lame, and also sickening. A random kid nearly kills himself to save a friend with heroes standing around doing nothing? Oh?" To say that the last video caught Yoshihara’s interest was an understatement. Tapping on the video and skipping a boring ad, the video began.
It started with the guy recording a video of what seemed to be a villain with a mutant quirk suffocating a blond-haired boy, who was, of all things, inside of the villain. The person was commentating overtop the video was shouting about how the heroes weren't doing anything, until finally, a green-haired boy ran out of the crowd, threw his yellow back-pack at the villain's face, then began clawing at the villain to try and free his friend, all without using a Quirk. The video abruptly ended after All Might came out of nowhere and punched the villain away right after the green-haired kid was submerged in the villain.
It made her think why All Might waited until that kid got involved. Was he waiting for more than one hostage? Or, was it rather because he was just running late and just so happened to show up then? She’d rather believe the latter over the former because that made this whole Professional Heroism thing seem less dystopian in her mind.
Not that it mattered, all things considered. Still, it was kind of interesting how that video played out. “Either that guy's got some guts to do something so stupid, or he is that stupid…" Yoshihara murmured, replaying the video again. While she verbally dismissed it, curiosity had overcome her, and the green-haired boy had intrigued her. While it was redundant, she decided to try and get a better look at what the kid looked like.
The camera wasn't all that great in terms of quality even after upping the frame rate, but after replaying the video a couple of times, Yoshihara was able to get a few details about the boy, blurry as they may be.
For starters, the boy was wearing a school uniform, and it looked similar to her school uniform, meaning he either went to a similar school to Aldera Junior High or the boy went to the aforementioned school. If that was the case, she felt bad for him, because that school sucked rocks.
Second of all, the boy had a very distinct hairstyle, so it wasn't like he didn't stand out in a crowd. Fuzzy green hair that burst out every which way, kind of like a messy afro. She couldn’t make out the rest of the details about him physically, so that was all she would have to go on for now.
Finally, the boy either had a Quirk and refused to use it, or he didn't have a Quirk, which gave the kid bonus points in her books. Trying to save someone without Quirk just made him look cooler in her eyes. It showed that out of everyone there, including the heroes, he had been the true hero risking his life to save someone even if he knew it was pointless.
That was pretty much it. That was all Yoshihara had to go on about the identity of this mystery boy. It would’ve been great if she had known his name. She would’ve liked to have met him. Or maybe not. Trying to find someone based on a YouTube video sounded kind of stalkerish, now that she thought about it. Oh well, if she ever came across the kid today, which she heavily doubted, she’d at least acknowledge him for what he did in the video.
Not like there was going to be much to do after today, anyway.
When she finished analyzing the video, she looked at the time. It was around 5:35 pm, meaning that she had rewatched the video for at least an hour straight. "Great, well, I better get something to eat, then get ready for work…” Yoshihara muttered to herself, putting her phone in sleep mode and laying it on the table in front of her couch, before walking to her apartment’s kitchenette.
Within the small, pint-sized kitchen, there was a mini-fridge, a stove, a sink, and two cupboards for any dishes. Aside from that, all she had for cooking things was one pot, one pan, and a microwave. Again, it wasn't much, but it was what she used to live, and as far as she was concerned, that was all she needed. However, it wouldn't have killed the person who built the place to add some more legroom.
Opening up the fridge, she had a leftover sandwich she made last night. It would be enough to satisfy her for at least a few hours. She grabbed the sandwich, a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich to be precise, and quickly ate it. She didn't have much time before she was considered late. The last thing she wanted to do was be late today. Today was special, after all. She didn’t want to come home with a burden on her shoulders. It would make her plans feel stupid after the fact.
Slamming the fridge shut, she ran over to her closet and quickly began to strip down out of her school uniform, throwing it on her fold-out couch. Without anything to cover her body, aside from her undergarments that was, her body was open for the whole world to see, or at least, for her apartment to see.
Yoshihara had some defining musculature on her arms and legs, as well as the starting of a six-pack. She had some slightly defined shoulder muscles, while the rest looked rather normal compared to most other people. One would think with how little she ate she wouldn’t be able to put on this much muscle, but the human body was a surprising thing, and it was wonderous what it could do with so little.
She remembered the first time the girls in the school's changing room saw her body. Some of them asked her where she worked out and others asked about… other things. Of course, this was before all the teasing and bullying began, so she told them that she had started working out at Gunhead's Workout Palace, which was just on the edge of Musutafu.
Oh, how times were simpler back then. Well, not as much simpler as they were worse off. At that time, she was still homeless, barely surviving off of scrapes and whatever she could get off of someone after begging and… doing things for them. A time period she wished to forget.
Well, at least, by the end of the day, she would be able to forget about it. After all, why would she hang on to any regrets? If she was going to go through with her plan today, then that meant she would be free from her past mistakes. All’s well that ends well, as they said.
As Yoshihara thought that, she fished around in her closet for something to wear, that being a white pinstripe suit with green lines going across it diagonally. Next to the suit was a pink shirt, which she grabbed. Next to that was a black tie decorated with strange humanoid cat-like skulls, with a golden zig-zag pattern interweaving between the strange skull motifs. Finally, there were her black slip-on shoes that she had left at the door.
Overall, it was rather simple yet also fashionable. And the best part? It hadn’t cost her a single cent, because her boss had gifted it to her as a birthday present. Her very first birthday present. Considering her previous situation, she had never had a birthday present before. Yoshihara didn't mind. Besides, at least this was more practical than what others imagined a birthday present to be.
The suit was snug and comfortable, and the fabric felt great against her skin. Though she didn't wear it to look fashionable, she wore it because she liked the design and the colour. It was just a shame it would be one of the last times she wore it. Maybe she could take it with her? Well, she doubted it. But, it was worth a shot.
Fixing the collar and adjusting the pants, she grabbed the brown leather belt that helped her keep the pants up, slipped it through the slots, and then buckled the belt up back around at the center of her waist. On the belt was a pouch, and in that pouch was a serrated blade, in case she couldn't use her "Quirk."
Brushing her suit off with her hands, she straightened out her posture, fixed her tie, then headed for the door. Leaving her apartment, and then closing the door behind her, she headed for the elevator. When she pressed the call button, the doors opened, and she walked inside. Selecting the ground floor, the elevator doors closed, then after a minute, the doors opened again, bringing her to the ground floor.
Running out of the building as fast as she could, she ran to the bus stop. She knew full well that she had maybe an hour before she was considered late, and she didn't want to be chewed out by her boss for being late—well, not chewed out. Her boss wasn’t like that. Although he would be a little annoyed. After all, it would’ve broken her record, and that wasn’t something she wanted to do.
When she made it to the bus stop, she thought she had missed it. That was, until, the bus began to pull up. She let out a sigh of relief as it slowed down, before completely stopping just in front of her. She had been rather lucky this time, which was a good thing for rather obvious reasons.
The bus doors opened, and with the few hundred yen coins she had left, she had enough for the bus fare. Putting the coins into the machine, she received her ticket and then headed for the back of the bus.
She needed to get to Anakin Street before the clock hit 6:30. That was when she would be considered late. And while the place also closed around then, after a few minutes, it would open again. But this time, in a new light. It would be for V.I.P’s only, and that was when she worked.
But what exactly was her place of work? Well, the answer to that question was simple, if not a tad embarrassing.
To put it simply, Yoshihara Kira worked at a strip club as a private showwoman.
For those that didn’t know what a private showwoman was—though with the context of it being a strip club, it should’ve been obvious—Yoshihara was essentially a private “hook-up.” What that boiled down to was if someone wanted to, they could pay a certain amount of money to do whatever they wanted to the person in question, so long as it didn't go over the pay grade. Unless, of course, they booked ahead of time. In that case, so long as it was over an hour’s worth of pay, they got to do the whole lineup of things to her.
And by “the lineup”, she meant everything on the sign of her door to her room. Blowjobs were 7,000 Yen. Thighjobs were 10,000 Yen. Anal was 25,000 Yen. And the most expensive one, and coincidentally the one that most people paid for was the fourth and final option: Vaginal with a condom (because she wasn’t risking that for money), which cost 40,000 Yen.
She didn’t offer anything else. Most of what she earned went toward the building, and a percentage of it went into her paycheque, which was 190,000 Yen, which she got at the end of every month. It sounded like highway robbery, but it wasn’t. The business needed funds to be run, and it was company policy that all the money made during a shift went back to the owner so that he could do upgrades, pay bills, and all that other stuff.
It was also of note, that most people who worked the private shifts were considerably wealthier than those who worked the regular shifts. She was the outlier, because not only was her apartment overcharging her, but her boss didn’t know. She didn’t want to burden him with her issues. Even if he was a nice man, he didn’t need that weight on his shoulders.
Even if it was a rather dirty place to work, it made her a lot of money, and it made it quick. She also gathered quite a reputation there. Of course, no one outside of work knew about her profession. As far as those who were at school knew, she worked as a private consultant at a firm. This considering her grades made sense, even though it was impossible for a kid her age. But, kids were stupid, so they bought it. The teachers didn’t know she had a job, so that helped things too.
Of course, there was a legal problem with her work. Not because the work itself was illegal—Strip Clubs were perfectly legal in Japan. It was what she was doing there that was illegal. If she was just a janitor, while gross, the government wouldn’t throw a hissy fit over it. But because she was doing the part of the job that was considered illegal for her age, that would be worth throwing a fit over.
Luckily, or unluckily depending on what one’s perspective was, those who showed up didn’t care that Yoshihara was only fifteen. A lot of the customer base was there for her. Something that was inherently disgusting, because who would prefer a child over a bunch of mature adults?
Maybe it was because they saw her as cute. Made it easier to pretend that she wasn’t a child? No, that went against the whole concept. Most of them were high-up business owners. It was taboo to have sex with a child, considering it was illegal and all that jazz. Though she guessed it made sense why these people came here for her. Business owners, in her mind, were moral degenerates. That meant they had to have some kind of fetish. Children must’ve been what these guys were after.
The only business owner that she didn’t think was a moral degenerate was her boss, and that was because he was a kind, caring individual with a heart of gold. After all, he was the one who took her in when she first met him.
That aside, she didn’t really care about the others. To her, as far she was concerned, she was fine with them predating on her, rather than some unlucky four-year-old. She’d rather it be her than someone younger. Besides, most of her life she had been surrounded by sex, drugs, and booze. Her home life hadn’t been the best. Rather, it had been the worst. Something she didn’t like to think about. She had buried it deep within the recesses of her soul for a reason.
Of course, with that kind of context, one would imagine that this was some kind of last-ditch effort to make money. The answer was no. This had been one of the largest constants in Yoshihara’s life, that being sex work. To be clear: it wasn’t like she enjoyed being a slut. But that was what she had to do to make money. After all, her “Quirk” was too violent to be used in the line of heroics—not that she wanted to be a hero in the first place—and her apartment was too expensive for her to do any other kind of job.
So, this was all she had going for her. Selling her body to make money. As horrendous as it was for a fifteen-year-old to do, she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. One did what they had to do to make money, after all. Even if it meant doing the one thing that was considered the most taboo and immoral thing in the world.
Here, she was the young, inexperienced little girl who had a soft, cute moan whenever one did something to her. The virgin child who was way in over her head, and someone whom customers wanted to defile to get their sick kicks. But outside of this place, Yoshihara was none of those things. Her upbringing made it so. That, and her upbringing made her learn how to be extremely good at pretending to be things she wasn’t.
When her stop came up, she got off the bus and ran down the street and to the building. The bouncer greeted her and let her in. The guy's name was Otoshi Arakawa, and he had been working here ever since she started as a private showwoman
He was a nice guy, and he always treated her with kindness. Otoshi knew her situation more than anyone else there, aside from the owner. While he didn't approve of her choice, he still stopped by whenever her shift was done to make sure she was okay. Being a private showwoman was mentally degrading to most. But Yoshihara was able to shunt it away.
Otoshi Arakawa was around six feet three inches tall and was extremely muscular like most bouncers. For the better half of her childhood, he acted as a pseudo-father figure to her, seeing as he had known her since she started working at this place as a janitor at the ripe age of twelve. He would stop by every so often at her apartment and help her out with her school work, and sometimes, he would come by with his girlfriend, Sayaka, who was equally as nice as he was.
"You're just in time, Kira. Before you go in, though, the boss wants to talk to ya, okay?" Otoshi said as Kira nodded. She had a feeling that she already knew what he was going to talk to her about. It wouldn’t be the first time. But, tonight it would be the last. If things went her way, of course.
Making her way to the entrance of the building, she squeezed past all of the common folk who were kicked out by the owner. When she finally got into the building, she saw the man in question, who was on stage with a microphone in his right hand, thanking everyone for coming by, and telling them to have a safe journey home.
The man was a tall and lean person, with the beginnings of a beard around his chin and jawline. He had short brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore a blue and white striped shirt with black overalls, along with a pair of black work shoes. The man had always gone with old-timey clothing, saying that he preferred it to the new stuff.
The man's name was Akira Tomodachi, and he had owned this building for the last twenty years. Most people who ran these places were seedy, perverted people who had no morals whatsoever. Akira, on the other hand, was one of the kindest people in the business. Everyone, including the dancers, liked him.
He never raised a hand to anyone unless it was to protect someone, nor did he scream or yell at any of his employees. It was why everyone liked him. He respected you, and naturally, you would respect him. It had something to do with his background, though what that was, she didn’t know
When Akira and Yoshihara's eyes met, he nodded to her and gestured for her to head to his office. She was annoyed, but she went with it. Most people never went into his office for a good reason. Most people who went to his office were either fired or were talked to about doing poorly for the special guests.
She had already known what this conversation was going to be about. Every few weeks he would give her the same talk, and each time she dismissed it with fervor. It was annoying to see that he was trying again. And today of all days….
For context: Akira would try and talk Yoshihara out of her job, saying that while he commemorated the effort she put in, he’d around and say that it was bad for her mental health to be used as an object by the people who came in every day to see her—not that it hadn’t been like that for her whole life, though he didn’t need to know that.
Yoshihara was glad that Akira cared about her, but what he was failing to understand was that she didn’t care. Sure, it was unhealthy. She knew that. God did she know that. But it was the only thing she could do to realistically afford that shitty apartment. No other job paid as well as this one, and she would be damned if she had to juggle three jobs and school. This was her best and frankly, only choice, because it made her the most money.
When was he going to understand that? Knowing Akira and how moralistic he was, probably never. But, that was the side-effect when one worked for Akira Tomodachi. Hell, his last name was quite literally “friend” when translated into its meaning, so that made sense.
Passing by a few of the dancers and into Akira’s office, she was greeted with the familiar wooden desk that she knew all too well. The wood was extremely well polished compared to most other things in the building. On the wall to the right were pictures of the previous owners, in other words, his descendants, ending with a self-portrait of him.
Directly behind the desk was a photo rack of the “Employees of the Year,” and up there with some of the best dancers, Yoshihara was on the lower row of the lineup. If she had to say anything, she'd say that she didn't mind it. She even remembered taking that photo not that long ago—about six months ago back in February.
Sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, she waited for Akira to show himself. She could hear him give out a pep talk to the other employees, then after a few seconds of hearing footsteps running around for people to get into place, the door to the office opened, and Akira walked in.
"I see Otoshi told you to meet me in here," Akira said as Yoshihara nodded, putting an arm around the back of her chair.
"If this is what I think it is, I'm leaving. I don't have time for this, and you already know my answer," Yoshihara said as Akira frowned. The man walked around to his desk, grabbed Yoshihara's picture from the “Employee of the Year” wall, and then sat down.
"You know it pained me to put your picture up there," he started, placing it in front of her. "Don't get me wrong you drive business up through the roof. I don't know what it is you do back there, but everyone loves you," Akira paused, letting out an exasperated sigh before crossing his arms. "I just…” he sighed again, driving home his disappointment. Yoshihara tried not to roll her eyes. “I don't want to see you waste your life being, for the lack of a better word, a whore," Akira finished as Yoshihara huffed.
"And how many times have you told me that?” Yoshihara dryly replied, narrowing her eyes. “Look, we've been here so many times, and you already know my answer. It's not like I enjoy what I'm doing. I don't like the feeling of someone's cock in my mouth much less being fucked by someone twice my age, but I do it because it makes me money, far too much than I want to admit," Yoshihara spat as Akira crossed his arms, staring at her with narrowed eyes of his own.
"And that is precisely why I don't want you here. You hate it here, so why keep coming back? I get the pay is good, that much I understand. I’ve known you since you were twelve, Yoshihara. I know your situation, and while I understand the struggle, I can’t stand to have you here working in this position. You're not of age yet, and even if you turn sixteen soon, I’m not going to risk that.
“If you’re so determined to work here, I’d much rather wait till you’re eighteen. I’m also pretty sure age is the reason why so many people come to see you, and if that's the case, maybe you should find a different career path," Akira said, leaning back in his chair before turning around and putting the picture back on the wall.
"Well, what do you suggest? 'Cause I need money, and I need a lot of money. If you know my situation, then you already know that my dingy apartment isn't going to pay for itself. I’d take the janitor position back if it paid half as well as this did, but it doesn’t so that’s isn’t an option," Yoshihara said, standing up from the chair and heading for the door. "When you have a bright idea for me, then call me back, but until then, I'll talk to you after my shift," Yoshihara said, grabbing the door handle before Akira teleported in front of her.
She frowned. Why couldn’t he just let her get to her job and have it over and done with? Why, of all days, was her plans being ruined? “Whatever,” she thought “Just get through this, get to work, go home, and enact the plan. Can’t be that hard.”
Now, as to how Akira was able to get in front of Yoshihara in the blink of an eye, it had everything to do with his Quirk. Akira's Quirk was Teleportation. So long as he looked in that direction, and so long as it wasn't more than five meters away from him, he could teleport to that location. It was quite powerful for everyday life, but not hero material.
"Sit down. We aren't done here yet," Akira spoke, his voice cold and business-like. Yoshihara rolled her eyes as she walked back to her chair before sitting back down. "Thank you," he said politely, arms behind his back.
Akira walked to his chair before bringing out a picture of someone. They looked young, maybe in their early thirties. They had long black hair, purplish-black eyes, and a radiant smile. In the picture, she was dressed in a white and black striped shirt and blue jeans with a belt. Yoshihara was about to ask why he brought out the picture before Akira spoke. "This is my sister-in-law. I married her older sister three years ago. Tell me, does she look familiar to you?" Akira asked as Yoshihara raised an eyebrow.
"Nope, who is it?" Yoshihara asked as Akira smirked.
"I'm sure you've heard of the pro-hero Midnight, right?" Akira asked as Yoshihara raised an eyebrow. She had no idea what relevance Midnight had to the conversation. Sure, she had heard of the R-rated hero, but who hasn't? She was in the top one hundred heroes in all of Japan, sitting at 82nd place just behind Mandalay and the rest of the Wild Wild Pussycats.
"Yeah, but I fail to see why she's important right now?" Yoshihara questioned, folding her arms across her chest as the door to Akira’s office opened, causing her to turn around. She expected Otoshi to walk in, but instead, she was greeted by someone else, and it made her eyes widen to the size of saucers.
"Now, I could say that was rude of you, but then again, it was rude for me to be late in the first place," a sultry-sounding voice spoke out into the room as a tall, busty woman walked entered. Her long black hair flowed down to the center of her back, and her voluptuous body would give even the most hardened people a nosebleed. She was wearing a long, unbuttoned, brown trenchcoat, while underneath, she wore a baggy white shirt and tight, form-fitting pants with stiletto heels.
It was, in fact, the pro-hero Midnight, standing in the office of Akira Tomodachi as if he had summoned her on command. Out of all the people she had expected to see today, Midnight was not one of them.
"Holy smokes…" Yoshihara muttered, a faint blush on her cheeks as Midnight smirked.
"So, this is the girl I hear you talk so fondly about, Tomodachi-Kun! I can see why, too. Reminds me of my niece in Korea, just a more natural hair colour than, well, blonde. But then again, blondes have always been your type, haven’t they~?" Midnight said, her voice teasing in tone, closing the door behind her as Akira rolled his eyes.
"Don't say it like that, Nemuri. You're making it seem like I drool about her in my dreams," Akira drawled, completely unphased as Nemuri sighed, taking off her coat before throwing it on the coat hanger on the back of the door.
"You know how it is, Tomodachi-Kun, I love teasing you, and you love pointing out how my latest scandal can 'end my career,' only for it to be turned around a second later," Nemuri pointed out before sitting adjacent to Yoshihara.
She tensed. This was a pro-hero, just casually walking into the room the owner of a strip club and not batting an eye at the fact a child was in the room. Perhaps the hero didn't care or was concealing her true feelings. Kira didn't know, but she was curious.
More importantly… what was she doing here? Why was she here? Did Akira know about her plans? No… he couldn’t have. His Quirk was Teleportation. Not mind-reading…. But that had been Otoshi’s Quirk.
That was when she realized something. It should’ve been obvious. She thought her plan was foolproof. But she forgot the one thing that would throw a wrench into it. That being Otoshi and his Mind Reading Quirk. Perfect for a bouncer, and also perfect to tell a concerned boss about what an employee was planning to do.
“Oh no… no please… don’t do this to me…” Yoshihara thought, her right hand clenching into a fist. “Otoshi… why? If you could’ve read my mind, you’d know why I wanted to go through with my plan! Why would you tell Akira?!”
The heroine in question turned to face Yoshihara, a concerned look on her face. "Kira-chan, right?" She asked, making Yoshihara look away. She needed to calm herself. She couldn’t let Akira catch onto the fact that she knew that he knew about her plan for after-work tonight.
"Yeah… uh…" Yoshihara cleared her throat. "This is… uh… really awkward…." She swallowed back the uneasiness she was feeling. That look in Midnight’s eyes. It wasn’t judging, but it was something else. Something that Yoshihara wasn’t familiar with, so she couldn’t put a pin on it. But the gleam in her eyes reminded her of disappointment, though it was hard to tell.
"Yes, it is," Nemuri said, folding her arms. "Now, I've heard about you from some of the people at the bar me and my friends hang out at. Do you want to know some of the stuff I hear coming from those sickos?" Nemuri asked as Yoshihara scoffed.
"No… but I doubt you're gonna listen to me," Yoshihara said as Nemuri blew hot air out of her nose.
"Well, no, if you don't want to hear it, that's fine. But it isn't… pleasant to hear. Akira tells me you bring in a lot of money to this place, and while he's glad that you've revived the business, he's concerned for your health. I overheard what you said, and while I'm not a slut-shamer, hell, that'd make me a goddamn hypocrite, you shouldn't be doing this, not at all," Nemuri stated.
"Yeah, well, It's not like I have much of a choice financially," Yoshihara spat back, her cheeks dusted pink with irritation. She was getting emotional. Or, well, as emotionally as she could get. That aside, she knew that she couldn't get emotional in front of a pro hero. It would be embarrassing. Taking in a deep breath, she spoke again, this time with a shakier voice.
"I don't like doing this. I hate this job. I can't hold down a regular job 'cause it doesn't pay me enough to afford that shitty little apartment or the electricity and gas bill. I hardly have enough for food, but at least this job pays me enough money to at least attempt it," Yoshihara said, water bubbling in her eyes, her arms wrapped tightly around her body as she choked back a sob.
Goddamnit… why? Why did he have to do this? Everything would’ve just worked out if he didn’t stick his nose into this. Why couldn’t he just let her do what she wanted? For once, why couldn’t he just stick his nose out of her business….
"I want to have a normal job, believe me, I do. But with everything that's going on, and with how my life has been going…. I can't…” She paused, her breathing hitching as she spoke. “I can’t keep doing this anymore.” Her voice had gone soft, and the pain and hurt that leaked out was the most genuine thing she had felt in years. It was almost therapeutic in a way if it hadn’t been so fucked up.
“I’m so sick and tired of barely getting by, having to go hungry for days at a time. I have no family, and no one cares about me… so why? Why do any of you care all of a sudden? Why should you care…?" Yoshihara muttered all the while her voice cracked and broke whilst she tried to keep the tears from falling and failing miserably. Nemuri stared at her with heaps of concern in her eyes, glancing over at Akira, who shrugged.
To Akira's credit, he didn't know how to handle this. He had seen Yoshihara break down multiple times, and hell, he even calmed her down and helped out occasionally. But this was the first time she had openly admitted to the things that he knew to be true—at least, when it came to the job, anyway. Akira hadn’t known what her landlord had been charging her, but if it was so much that she was breaking down over it, it must’ve been insane.
And that wasn’t even mentioning what he knew she had planned to do.
Nemuri didn’t know. But he did. Otoshi told him what she had planned to do, and it horrified him. Nemuri didn’t need to know the full context of the situation, but considering what Kira was implying, considering that he knew that Nemuri wasn’t stupid, and seeing how her expression was changing to one of understanding, and acknowledgement of what she was saying, it wasn’t hard to understand what Kira was implying.
She had been planning to commit suicide. The keyword was: planning. And that was the reason why Akira had called Nemuri to come here in the first place. It wasn’t just to meet Yoshihara. It was to help her out of the shitty situation she found herself in.
“Hey, kiddo… uh, listen. You don't have to work here if you don’t want to. I…" Akira stopped mid-sentence as Nemuri looked at him with the same knowing glance a few of his bouncers would give him. The kind of look that told him that he was trying to do something far out of his league. It was a look that said: "Stop, let me handle this."
Getting up from her seat, Nemuri stood in front of Yoshihara. She took a knee, meeting Yoshihara’s eye level, though Yoshihara had been too deep in her despair to the point that she hadn’t noticed Nemuri. She snapped her fingers in front of Yoshihara, which caught her attention. Her eyes were slightly red from the crying, and her cheeks had gone red with a mixture of embarrassment, annoyance, and anger.
"Look, kid, I…” She paused, formulating the words in her head before continuing. “I get where you're coming from. I was in the same spot as you are right now when I was younger," She began as she shifted around uncomfortably. "However, unlike you, I didn't have someone to turn to. I remained a sex worker for the entirety of my time in junior high. It was only until I met the friends that I have now, including Akira, that I was able to get away from that lifestyle," Nemuri explained, taking a deep breath as Yoshihara wiped away the tears in her eyes.
Good. That meant that what she was saying was potentially working. Either that or she was just trying to calm herself down. Nemuri was cautious either way. One wrong word, or phrase, or anything for that matter could set her off again. And if that happened, they’d be back at square one, or worse, she’d run away. And if she ran away the chances of them seeing her again unless it was on the news were slim to none.
"Akira has repeatedly told you that you don't have to continue this job if you don't want to, but it’s obvious that, at least to you, you don’t have a choice in the matter from what I’m hearing. You pretend that it doesn’t take a mental toll on you, but in truth, it does, doesn’t it? I bet every day you dread getting up in the morning, knowing what it is you have to do when you get home from school. I bet you hate yourself for what you have to do, but you’re not the only one who knows that.
He knows that you're suffering, and I can't blame him for asking me to come here to help you. And now that I’ve met you, and heard what it was you’re saying, I can safely say that, whatever you’re planning to do, don’t do it. You might not think that you have anyone to turn to, or that there isn’t anyone who cares about you, but the truth is that there is, Akira and Otoshi included. That, and I know that there is a way that you can get out of this situation you’re in.”
"Oh yeah," Yoshihara said, clearing her throat and calming herself. There was a stern look in her eyes. The kind of look that showed that she was fed up with everything, which was to be expected. "What exactly is that? Go on, tell me, because I’ve tried everything. There’s nothing left for me. So just leave me alone…" Her voice was sharp, annoyed, and also irritated.
"Well, first of all, I want you to calm down. It's hard to think rationally when you're all emotional like that," Nemuri started, looking at Yoshihara with a gleam in her eye. In response she took a few deep breaths, one every few seconds, tears still bubbling in her eyes, though much less than before. When she looked less like an emotional wreck, Nemuri continued.
"Good, now, I usually don't do this, but seeing as you're in a tricky situation, I want to give you an offer. That is, of course, if you're willing to listen?" Nemuri asked as Yoshihara nodded, which caused Nemuri to smile. "When I was younger, I was approached by a hero that is, unfortunately, deceased, but they said this to me when they approached me, so I'm going to say the same thing," Nemuri said, standing up, extending a hand to Yoshihara.
"I see potential in you. While I don't know who you are, as a hero, I cannot allow you to continue living like this. So let me offer you a way to turn your life around so that you can forgo all of this pain you're holding on to. I have a few connections with a couple of powerful people in this world, and with those, not only will your life become better than what it is now, but I can guarantee, it will never be the same ever again! Yoshihara Kira, allow me, Midnight, to bring you a better life. Become a hero, join U.A. Academy, and if you don't like the apartment you currently live in, there's a spare room in my apartment suite if you want a better place to live," Midnight said, a smile on her face, one of honesty and truth.
Yoshihara had no idea what to think about what Nemuri had said. All she could do was stare in silence. Her face suddenly became calculating, trying to scope out any ulterior motives as a voice in the back of her mind told her not to trust Nemuri. Told her it was a trap. Told her that she was like every other adult that she had met up until this point, excluding Akira and Otoshi. However, a far louder part of her mind screamed at her telling her to trust her.
This was it. This was her chance. If she agreed to go with Nemuri, she would be able to live a better life. That voice in the back of her head that had been telling her it was pointless was drowned out by the far more hopeful voice in her head. If she did this… if she went with Nemuri, a lot of the problems she had faced in her life would go away. Not all of them, but it would be a start.
She could finally live. All of her life she had been stuck in a rut. This, though? This gave her the opportunity of a lifetime. One that not many people had been offered. So why would she waste it? Even if she never exactly dreamed of being a hero, this could be her ticket out of this mess.
Reluctantly, Yoshihara reached out her hand, and as it was seconds from taking Midnights, she stopped, looking over to Akira, who had his arms crossed. While his facial expression held no emotion, his eyes told a completely different story.
It was like they were egging her on, telling her to take Nemuri’s hand. If Akira trusted it, then she supposed that she could. Finally, she took Midnight's hand and stood up, the height difference being plain as day, with Yoshihara's short height, she barely made any ground to Midnight's five foot nine inches, standing around the middle of her stomach.
Nemuri nodded, gripping her hand as a soft smile appeared on her face. "You made the right choice, Kira Yoshihara," she said, turning to look at Akira. "It's getting late, Tomodachi-Kun. I'll take Yoshihara back home with me. If you don't mind, that is," Nemuri said as Akira unfolded his arms, his face remaining neutral for a few more seconds before softening.
"Well, I don't care. As her ex-employer, it's annoying since a lot of people booked Yoshihara for the night.” He stopped, his expression turning grim. “But, my morality refuses to let that continue, so I'll repay those who paid for her service so that they go away. Not only that, but I'll also e-transfer Yoshihara her paycheque that she would've got for the month and the one after that," Akira said as Nemuri nodded, turning to face Yoshihara.
"Well, are you ready to go?" Nemuri asked as Yoshihara quietly nodded. Akira teleported over to the office door and opened it, bowing slightly like the showman he was. If this had been another world, he’d probably run a circus. At least, Yoshihara thought so, anyway.
"If anyone asks why you're leaving, especially the clients, I'll just say that you asked to quit, which in reality is the truth. And while I'm sure, Otoshi and I will stop by to make sure you're doing okay, this’ll probably be the last time we see each other for a while, kiddo," Akira explained as Yoshihara nodded.
In the back of her mind, Yoshihara wasn’t exactly a big fan of that. Akira had been one of her pseudo-father figures for the last few years alongside Otoshi. Suddenly no longer seeing them for large swathes at a time was going to be far more difficult than she was willing to admit. But, such was the way of the world, she supposed.
Nemuri grabbed her coat from off the coat hanger and put it back on. Afterward, the two girls bowed to Akira before Nemuri put her right hand on Yoshihara's left shoulder, making her flinch slightly. Despite that, Yoshihara moved herself closer to the side of Nemuri’s body, huddling next to her to avoid being seen, a slight dusting of pink on her cheeks.
The two girls left the office as Akira closed the door. As soon as they got out, they were assaulted by loud noises and people talking, glasses clashing, and the sound of erotic music playing around the building.
The sound of "Mr. Boombastic" playing on the speakers and the sound of people humming and ahhing at the dancers caused Yoshihara to shrink even further. Eyes were on the two, and to add to Yoshihara’s embarrassment, a few whispers and murmurs came from a few of the patrons nearest, all speculating why she was with Nemuri, which had caused her to shrink even further. All Nemuri had to do was smile at her for Yoshihara to straighten herself out.
Otoshi opened the front door for the two before bowing. "You made the right choice Kira-san, and Midnight, thank you for taking her. Have a good evening, you two," Otoshi said as Nemuri smiled.
"Thank you, Otoshi-Kun. Have a good evening as well. Don't overwork yourself," Nemuri said as he chuckled. Taking a few steps away from the building before stopping in front of a car, Nemuri took her car keys out of her pocket as the horn of the black Honda Civic in front of them echoed out into the empty street. Two entered the car, Nemuri walking around to the driver's side door, and Yoshihara sitting in the passenger seat. Not even a minute later, they drove away.
The car ride was silent. Not a single word was spoken as the soft sound of the radio played in the background. The only thing Yoshihara could think about was just how crazy her day had been so far. She had been given a once-in-a-lifetime chance by Midnight, who promised to change her life, to become a hero and go to U.A. Academy.
What she didn't know, however, was just how much her life would change, the people she would meet, and the friends she would make. But with that change, things from her past would come creeping up on her in ways that she had never expected.
Whether she was ready for it or not was outside of the question. Be it for better or worse, this is the story of Kira Yoshihara, a future hero of no renown.
-To Be Continued-