MHA: The Lazy Genius

Akira Tachibana's life had always been peaceful.

Boring, but peaceful.

Sure, he had Alya's constant chaos to deal with, but he didn't mind. In fact, if he was honest, he loved it.

Every day was the same. Go to school, play games, mess around with Alya, and go home to his loving parents.

He had everything.

A family that loved him.

A best friend—no, a girlfriend—who made life fun.

A future that seemed endless.

But all of that—

Ended in one night.

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The night air was warm, carrying the distant hum of the city's nightlife. The Tachibana and Kujou families were seated in a cozy, high-end restaurant, celebrating a rare night where both families had free time together. Laughter echoed between them as they enjoyed their meal.

Akira, as usual, had his portable game console in hand, lazily pressing buttons while listening to the conversation. Beside him, Alya giggled as she sketched a new dress design on a napkin, showing it off to her mother. Their parents chatted away, talking about everything from work to how fast their children were growing up.

It was a peaceful moment—one that would not last.

Suddenly, Akira felt uneasy. His instincts—something he never really questioned—screamed at him. He looked up from his console and scanned the room. Nothing seemed out of place.

Then, the lights flickered.

A cold, suffocating pressure filled the restaurant. It was like the air itself had turned heavy. The chatter died. The music stopped. The only sound left was the distant clatter of plates and hushed whispers of confusion.

Then—

BOOM!

The front doors of the restaurant exploded inward. The shockwave sent chairs, tables, and people flying. Smoke and debris filled the air as terrified screams erupted from the patrons. The scent of burnt metal and blood quickly polluted the atmosphere.

And from the swirling dust, a tall, ominous figure stepped in.

The Arrival of Death

He was dressed in black, his presence alone warping the space around him. His face was concealed behind a breathing apparatus, his deep, commanding voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. His presence was anything but human.

"Found you."

Akira's father froze. His mother's eyes widened in pure terror. Alya's parents instinctively grabbed their daughter, their hands shaking.

They knew who this was.

But Akira did not.

"Mom? Dad? Who is he?" Akira asked, sensing something was horribly wrong.

His father clenched his fists, his voice trembling. "Akira… take Alya and run."

But before Akira could even move—

SHHHHK!

A black tendril shot forward like a spear, impaling Alya's father through the chest. Blood splattered onto Alya's face.

Alya's mother screamed, her voice cracking into a desperate wail.

Akira's mind blanked. His ears rang. His heartbeat pounded so loud it drowned out the chaos.

Alya's father fell limp, lifeless.

Alya's blue eyes were wide with horror as she saw her father collapse in front of her, her small hands stained red. She opened her mouth to scream—

But her mother pushed her aside.

"Alya! Run—!"

A second tendril pierced through her skull.

Blood sprayed across the floor, her body falling in a lifeless heap beside her husband.

Silence.

The world seemed to freeze.

Alya, now alone, simply collapsed to her knees, staring at her parents' corpses in pure shock.

Akira's Parents' Last Stand

Akira's father roared in rage, pulling out a hidden firearm and unloading bullets at the villain. His mother, too, activated her Quirk—a force-field barrier—but the man in black simply raised his hand.

A wave of pure, crushing power erupted from his body.

Akira's father was flung back like a ragdoll, crashing through multiple tables. His mother staggered, blood trickling from her nose as her barrier shattered like glass.

The villain stepped forward, unaffected by their feeble resistance.

"Your serum would have been troublesome. I cannot allow such a thing to exist."

Akira's mother turned to her son, her voice desperate. "Akira, listen to me! Take Alya and—"

A black tendril skewered her through the stomach.

She gasped, coughing up blood, her eyes full of pain as she turned toward Akira.

"I love you."

Then, the villain ripped the tendril out, and she collapsed.

Akira's father, despite being half-conscious and bleeding profusely, crawled toward his wife's body. His shaking hand reached out—before another tendril pierced his skull.

Just like that—

His family was gone.

The Heroes Arrive… Too Late

Red and blue lights flashed from outside. The restaurant's windows shattered as Pro Heroes finally arrived, their voices commanding everyone to evacuate.

But the villain did not care.

With a deep, echoing chuckle, he turned to the heroes and disappeared into the shadows—as if he had never been there to begin with.

The destruction he left behind was immeasurable.

Dead bodies. Blood. Screams.

And in the middle of it all—

Akira stood motionless.

His hands trembled. His face was emotionless, empty. His once bright eyes, always filled with curiosity, were now dark, void-like.

Alya was beside him, shaking uncontrollably, her eyes lifeless. She didn't even cry anymore—she simply stared at her parents' bodies, broken beyond repair.

A group of heroes approached them, their expressions full of fake sympathy.

One hero, a man with a cape, crouched beside them and placed a hand on Akira's shoulder.

"We're sorry for your loss."

Something inside Akira snapped.

His small hands curled into fists. His teeth gritted.

Sorry?

Sorry?!

Where were they when it mattered?!

Why did they come after it was too late?!

Why did they act like they cared when it was obvious they didn't?!

Akira looked at the hero with a blank, hollow stare. His small voice came out as a whisper—cold and lifeless.

"You're too late."

Then, with trembling hands, he turned to Alya, his only remaining family.

She looked up at him, her lips quivering.

He extended his hand.

"Come with me."

Alya, broken and numb, grasped his hand.

That night, Akira Tachibana buried his emotions deep inside.

That night, he decided heroes were no different from villains.

That night, he realized that the world wasn't fair.

That night, Akira Tachibana swore he would never be weak again.

No matter what it took.

- To Be Continued