Strongest Esper

Eri sat next to Accelerator, swinging her legs back and forth. She watched him sleep, his arms crossed over his chest, looking like he was just resting. She didn't know why, but it made her feel safe. He was here, and that was enough.

She looked at her toy unicorn, but she didn't feel like playing with it. It didn't feel fun like it was supposed to. It was soft, but not enough to make her forget everything. She used to play a lot, but now, it was like she couldn't make her mind stay in those happy places anymore. The bad things were always there, hiding in the back of her mind.

My Little Pony had been nice, bright and happy, but it didn't last long. The characters had their adventures and saved the day, but Eri knew that wasn't real. She knew that things like that only happened in shows.

She wondered why everyone else seemed so happy. Kids her age played, laughed, had families that cared for them. But she didn't understand how that worked. She didn't know how to feel normal.

But then there was Accelerator. He was different. He didn't talk much, and sometimes he seemed cold, but she didn't feel scared of him. Maybe because he wasn't like the adults she knew before. He didn't try to force her to be happy or pretend everything was fine. He was just… there. He didn't ask questions, and he didn't treat her like she was broken.

Eri snuck a glance at him again. He was still asleep, but she wasn't alone anymore. That was enough. Maybe, even though things didn't feel normal, it would be okay.

Accelerator lay still, listening to the soft sounds of Eri beside him. She wasn't doing much, just swinging her legs a little and occasionally sighing. He could practically feel the boredom radiating off her. Not his problem.

He'd done enough. More than enough. He'd fought, bled, and upended his life to make sure this kid had a shot at something resembling safety. If that wasn't enough, what was? Surely, he deserved five damn minutes to relax.

Eri was silent, though. Always silent.

That was one thing he'd noticed about her early on—she never asked for anything, not food, not water, not even attention. If he and Saki hadn't started picking up on the tiny, almost invisible signs she gave off, she'd probably just sit there quietly, even if she was starving.

Saki had ripped into him for that. She'd practically shoved a meal schedule in his face, barking that he'd better stick to it unless he wanted her to take Eri herself. That woman was demanding, bossy, and impossible to argue with—but she had a point. Without her, he probably wouldn't have noticed half of what the kid needed.

He gave Eri a quick glance, careful to keep his expression neutral in case she looked his way. Another thing he'd been keeping an eye on: her horn.

It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there. He'd seen it from the start, but now he realized it was growing. Slowly. Too slowly.

That wasn't normal, was it? Mutant-type quirks were part of the body—if she'd been born with it, wouldn't it have grown faster over the years? Was her quirk somehow stunted? Damaged? He didn't know enough about her or how her powers worked to be sure.

"I… killed my daddy."

Accelerator closed his eyes as he took a deep breath.

"My… curse… it came out… and he… disappeared," she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her wide, innocent eyes. "Mommy… said I was… cursed. That I was bad. And then… she…" Her tiny body trembled violently, her voice cracking with every word. "…she gave me away. And I… I… I'm sorry!"

He wasn't done. Not yet.

He almost forgot—there were still monsters out there, the ones responsible for Eri's suffering, her nightmares, and that hollow look she sometimes wore when she thought no one was watching.

They were still out there, unknown and free.

The chances of them tracking Eri down again were high. Too high. Especially with her status as the so-called "Living Library" or whatever cryptic nonsense those fucking magicians called it. Accelerator couldn't ignore the possibility of the magical side of the world getting involved, but his gut told him her original captors had roots in the Hero society—dark, twisted roots hiding beneath their polished image.

And until every last one of them was dealt with, he couldn't rest.

He wouldn't rest.

And what better way to fish for information than with a hero complex, emotionally responsible adult?

'No hard feelings, Eraser,' Accelerator thought to himself as Eri noticed he was awake, her wide, innocent eyes staring up at him. 'You wanted my trust? Time for you to earn it'.

"Achoo!"

Aizawa sniffled, rubbing his nose with a slight frown.

"Cold?" Midnight looked up from across her desk, eyebrows raised in concern.

"I'll be fine," he muttered stoically, "I've yet to keel over from worse."

"Not something to brag about, buddy," Present Mic quipped, grinning as he lounged at his own desk.

Aizawa huffed, flipping through a stack of application forms—over 50,000 of them, all from hopefuls clamoring for a spot at the best Hero school in Japan. But only a few would get in. Only the best.

One form caught his eye.

A sleepy-eyed boy with scruffy, purple hair and a peculiar quirk listed beside his name. 'Brainwashing, huh?'

Interesting.

The monitor flickered, casting a cold glow in the dark room.

A bright image loaded on the screen—a screenshot of a young girl with ash white hair and a horn prodding from the side of her fore head, holding an ice cream cone. Her red eyes wide with innocent delight.

"This is the one, Papa!" a cheery voice rang out from the shadows.

"This is the girl we need!"

A twisted grin curled on the man's face.

"Alrighty then," he purred, malice dripping from his voice. "Time to set the hounds loose."

Accelerator lounged lazily on his sofa, book in hand, eyes skimming over the pages with mild disinterest. Saki had taken Eri to her apartment for a little 'girl time' or whatever, not that he was complaining. As easy as Eri was to take care of compared to other kids, that didn't mean it wasn't exhausting in its own way.

A little peace and quiet from the endless marathon of My Little Pony was exactly what he needed.

The apartment was still, bathed in the soft hum of electronics and the occasional creak of the building settling. The dim light of the evening filtered through his curtains, casting long shadows against the walls. A perfect moment of silence. A rare thing.

Then the shift came.

It was subtle—like a ripple in a still pond. A barely perceptible shift in the air that made his senses tingle, an instinctual warning from years of survival.

Someone was at his door.

Accelerator's red eyes flicked up from his book, shifting ever so slightly towards the entrance. His body remained relaxed, but his mind sharpened like a blade. He reached out instinctively, focusing on Eri and Saki upstairs, noting their positions, their heartbeats, their steady breathing. Unaware. Safe.

Good.

With a soft sigh, he set the book on the table, marking his page with a flick of his finger. He rose to his feet, stretching his arms behind his head as if he weren't already preparing for a potential fight.

His gaze locked on the door.

He could sense the presence behind it. Small. Light. Not aggressive, but not hesitant either. Whoever it was had purpose.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

Accelerator blinked, thrown off for half a second.

"…Well, that was anti-climactic," he muttered under his breath.

A visitor? Knocking? That was a first. Even Saki, the brazen woman would just storm in without any consideration for her tenant. It wasn't Asphalt or Velvet either, the presence was too light, even for Velvet.

Crossing the room, he pulled the door open, his sharp red eyes meeting a pair of soft green ones.

A girl stood before him, short, delicate-looking, with golden blonde hair tied into twin pigtails, secured by black ribbons. She was dressed in a gothic lolita-style outfit—layered black and white frills with intricate lace, the dark maroon cape draped over her shoulders giving her an almost fairytale-like appearance. The hood was pulled up, casting a shadow over her face, but her sharp, assessing gaze was impossible to miss.

Accelerator's instincts flared for a moment. 'A hero?'

"Excuse me," the girl whispered, her voice soft but steady. Her green eyes locked onto his with a quiet intensity. "Are you… the guardian of the Liborium Index?"

His eyes narrowed.

That was a name he hadn't heard before. A new label. One more thing that tied Eri to forces beyond his initial understanding.

The girl raised her hands slowly in a non-threatening gesture. "I mean neither you nor your ward any harm," she assured him, voice even. "Please, I need to talk to you." She hesitated for only a breath before adding, "Asphalt sent me."

That made him pause.

His gaze sharpened, scrutinizing her further, measuring her words, her stance, the way her fingers twitched as if ready to move in an instant.

Just because Asphalt sent her didn't mean he trusted her.

After a long moment of silent evaluation, he stepped aside. "Come in," he said, his voice unreadable.

The girl dipped her head in quiet gratitude before stepping past him into the dimly lit apartment.

Accelerator took one last glance towards the ceiling, where Saki and Eri remained blissfully unaware. Then he shut the door behind him.