Thorny Path of a Pro-Hero

It all started when I simply felt someone’s gaze.

You know how in second-rate action movies, the main characters, hiding from villains, catch someone’s attention... from a car with tinted windows, for example, across the road, or they spot some weirdo in sunglasses reflected in a storefront, or someone’s following them for several blocks as if they’re glued, or that person is hiding behind a newspaper in a cafe...

In short, when tough guys conduct surveillance as subtly as if it were being done by kids.

That’s how I caught someone’s gaze on my back.

Apparently, this feeling arises due to changes in bioelectric currents—but I don’t really get that stuff at all. I just know that people can really sense such things, just like other animals.

Alright. I caught the gaze...

But there was no tough guy nearby that I could spot in an instant.

And then it happened again.

And again...

When you get that "feeling of being watched" during breaks or even in class at school, it's not that surprising. After all, with my "lectures" and behavior, I’ve earned a reputation as the local miniature attraction... oh, and also for being the one guy who wasn’t afraid to talk to the “Snow Queen” of this middle school.

Yes, yes, that very Yui Kodai in all her snowy splendor of a "kuudere," the Japanese term for the anime archetype of a cold and unapproachable girl.

Yes, yes, Yui wasn't wasting any time.

The Japanese, in general, love to give such grandiose nicknames to everyone, even the coolest janitors, cooks, and kindergarteners. Though, I think this is more of an eastern cultural trait in general.

I wouldn’t be surprised if some infatuated schoolgirls secretly call me the "Aquamarine Prince" or something...

– Pffhaha…

At that moment, I burst into uncontrollable laughter, which I barely managed to suppress, earning a couple of sideways glances from the teacher and the class monitor. What are you looking at? Is it my fault that if I don’t want to attract the attention of every powerful person around—at least not prematurely—I’m forced to sit here with you?

Alright... I got distracted again; this is becoming a tradition.

It happens quite often to me lately, though not as much as it did before Yui and Mashirao. I guess it's one of the consequences of being almost completely socially isolated for a... long time. You don't talk much, but you reflect frequently. Stew in your thoughts as much as needed. And if you're a curious person, you end up contemplating a lot of things whenever it’s convenient...

Probably need to deal with it. Definitely a bad tradition for a fighter.

... there’s not much to laugh about here.

Speaking of attracting attention: in general, attention at school didn’t surprise or bother me. But if you feel the same gaze on the way home from school... or on your way to practice... or, excuse me, in the boys' restroom at school?

Maybe someone else in my place would have brushed it off... maybe.

But in my case, there was the paranoia, lovingly nurtured for almost a decade and a half, so I immediately assumed the worst.

A government observer? From U.A.? From that obscure government agency that Hawks was subordinate to? Or, worst of all, someone from All For One?

Where did I slip up? How did I reveal my potential danger and maybe even my good abilities too early?

No, that’s not the right thought. What’s done is done; you can’t unspill spilled milk back into the glass. The right question is: what to do?

Expose the surveillance, even if it leads to an open conflict?

No, bad option. Very bad. I might be able to fend off a trained fighter if I strike first, but there are always, constantly, a bunch of people around me who would definitely get hurt. Even when I’m traveling from one location to another, the route passes through crowded places.

Am I ready to risk the lives of innocent people?

No.

Lure them to a prepared, deserted spot? If my observer has a brain, they’ll immediately realize something’s off, that something doesn’t fit my usual routine. Again, I can’t be sure how many people are actually watching me. Maybe they already know all the places I visit, and a sudden change in my usual actions might provoke... uh... “preventive measures” on their part. Yep, with a fatal outcome for me.

...no. The first thing to do is make sure the surveillance is real. Preferably, without attracting attention.

Over the next two days, I spent as much time as possible discreetly studying my surroundings, but I didn’t spot any suspicious men or vans. No results.

Okay, time to admit that in this world, based on movies from the past world, I won't detect any surveillance. In this world, there are definitely people capable of making themselves invisible. Therefore, I won’t detect them so easily.

Lure them out? And then attack from a safe distance, using my markers? Not fatally, but enough to make them reveal themselves? Like... loitering in a spot, like a park bench, and leaving... I don’t know... a note?

Well, as a backup plan... a very backup one. I highly doubt my ability to pull off such a performance.

I answered some question from the teacher in passing—one of those who never gave up trying to catch me being inattentive—and thoughtfully stared out the window, resting my chin on my hand.

Something flickered outside the window.

I frowned.

If I think a little more… it seems I’m still displaying inertia in my thinking: invisibility isn’t the only possibility. Besides that, there are tons, dozens, hundreds of quirks that allow for flying, shrinking, passing through matter, seeing from afar, through walls, and hundreds more examples of how I could be watched from unpredictable angles and in unexpected ways.

Realizing this, I stopped looking for spies.

And switched to searching for anything strange, unnoticed, small, and simply in a place where it shouldn’t be. Like, under the ceiling in a classroom, or in the treetop outside, or in the corner of a window just floating in mid-air...

And quite soon—I found it.

And when I pieced the facts together, recognized the quirk of this cunning observer thanks to my "foreknowledge," and marveled at the coincidence, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief... though not immediately, not immediately at all—because this character, at that very moment, looked nothing like they did in the anime.

And I only identified them after some rather nervous time had passed.

In short, I was being watched by... hmm. I was being watched by various parts, uh, of a body.

In turns.

Yes, even for this strange world, that’s strange.

Sometimes, I was being watched by an eye.

Or two. From different perspectives.

Sometimes—an ear...

And sometimes there was something completely strange nearby, like a foot in a shoe, hanging in the air under the ceiling. Or a hand stuck to the windowpane, the whole palm pressing against it, apparently trying to pick up vibrations from sound waves caused by chatting students. Yes? No? I don’t understand...

Or maybe it’s somehow scanning the surrounding space? Without some such aspect of the quirk, such an ability—to levitate separate body parts that retain sensitivity and motor skills—would probably be impossible...

But I have a strong feeling that I’m stretching the truth. She can’t be doing this just like that, right? Right?..

Alright, to be fair, I must note that all this was done discreetly and, for an enthusiast of our and Yui’s age, quite cleverly. Making full use of the environment and "blending in" with the crowd during the hustle of school breaks or group sparring sessions in the dojo.

Yes, by the way, group sessions.

Akira-sensei has warmed up to me lately, and, in addition to occasional advice on maintaining distance and proper tactics, has started conducting some “group brawls”—wall-to-wall battles, where he’d throw nearly all his numerous nephews and nieces, well, those who know how to fight, against me and Mashirao.

It was fun, sweaty, and furry, and we often won. Although sometimes we were simply overpowered by numbers and brought down with grapples, and a couple of times, I got hit in the back with a tail, leading to automatic disqualification. Friendly fire, so to speak.

And a few times, during the general melee, I was secretly groped by some of the attractive, mane-haired girls who were older. And to be honest, I didn’t hold back either.

Just "shh!", not a word to Akira!

...actually, these brawls were largely a manifestation of trust—if I were a bit clumsier in handling my still unnamed quirk, such a fun fight would quickly turn into a display of bloody carnage.

But—we managed, and I acted more confidently and accurately. The guy clearly sensed with his experienced teacher’s nose that I was holding back and afraid of accidentally hurting those around me. And when he realized it was safe to let loose—much sooner than I did!—he put me in the ring with real live opponents, ordinary people, not super-strong monsters. And began to weed out this fear, which in the future could cost me my life.

Sensei, in a word.

And my debt to both Ojiro was only growing: where else would I have, among other things, honed combat coordination with a fairly strong ally against pretty smart opponents? Before the academy, anyway.

...but never mind, we were talking about my observer.

When I detected the quirk and figured out that I was being watched by a lone amateur, not a government agent or a criminal working for All For One, I began to suspect a certain male student from a hero academy. But not from U.A., another one, who could do something disgusting called a “meat ball”—it’s been years, and I still remember the name, such an unpleasant image it formed. Something like flesh manipulation, or something like that.

Why him and not, for example, a girl from Class “B” of U.A. who could divide herself into controllable body parts? Well, because she was, as far as I remember, a brunette. But the person watching me had very blond hair. Probably even well-groomed and beautiful, but I only caught a glimpse of it, and even then through the bushes as I was walking from school.

Then, a couple of days later, looking out of the classroom window, I caught sight of a shadow half-materialized up to the waist—on the playground right under the window. It seemed to be floating in the air right above me, hiding from retaliation, hehe.

The hair fluttering in the wind was long…

And the shadow and wind clearly outlined the figure (well, the part of it that was present) of the spy, leaving little to the imagination.

...yep, a girl.

By this point, I had completely stopped being nervous, as I understood: no serious person would reveal themselves so shamelessly.

So who is it? That girl from Class “B” who got in on recommendation? But she’s a brunette. And I don’t remember anyone with anything even close to this. Except for maybe Hawks, at a stretch. Well, who knows, maybe she dyed her hair.

But it’s not like there aren’t other incredible quirks in this world that could surprise me like this? And it feels like a bit too much of a coincidence…

However, if we use Occam’s razor…

Well then...

Well then I just ran out of patience. Apparently, it got cut on the razor.

And it happened like this: in that same school that I was sick of, where not only my classmates but even the teachers tried not to bother me (and all it took was pointing out their mistakes a couple of times in THEIR explanations of the material), there was a break. And during the break, I went to take a leak. Naturally, alone.

So, here I am, standing at the nearest urinal, whipping out my, excuse me, Orochimaru, and then…

Hearing some rustling, I reflexively turned my head and caught, out of the corner of my eye, a shadow! A very well-formed silhouette shadow hanging boldly in the air at the level of the third, damn, floor!

Bathroom, damn, romance.

That’s when I snapped.

But, thanks to many years of martial arts training, I had developed at least some self-control, and partly absorbed their philosophy, so I didn’t do anything blatantly crazy or rush headlong.

No, I calmly put Orochimaru back in Konoha, since I was standing with my back to the window and no one could have seen anything anyway, washed my hands, still calmly, and only then, taking a sharp step to the window and flinging it open, I barked—almost right into the face of the unsuccessful stalker:

"Hey, stalker, know your place!"

I admit, the thought that the person might forget their quirk in surprise and fall to the pavement below crossed my mind only afterward.

But—it worked out.

And as a result, "Her Arrival" took place... in what turned out to be my previously very calm and balanced life.

***

First, there was: "Oops."

Then there was the exasperating: "Phew... you really scared me!"

Next came: "Oh no, no-no-no, not like this, it’s all wrong!"

And finally, a spectacular: "Damn, crap, how did I mess up, damn, sorry, I’ll be right back, don't go anywhere, I’m coming ba-a-ack...," fading away into the distance as its owner quickly dashed off somewhere right through the air.

I admit, I had to look for my jaw on the tiled floor.

By the time I washed it off and put it back in place, this… thing returned, and I got a chance to look her over at least.

First of all, she was quite a pretty girl.

Though, her makeup was a bit too aggressive.

More or less my age, in a school uniform, but from a different school.

A bit, I would say, provocatively dressed, with a loose shirt, a mid-length plaid skirt that was interestingly fluttering in the wind, a red tie, bright makeup, and lots of bracelets and similar stuff. Hoop earrings. A blue blazer, casually tied around her waist, completed the look.

And she was a blonde, yeah.

As someone who’s been living in Japan for nearly fifteen years, I started to have vague suspicions about why I didn’t recognize her right away.

If it is her.

Oh… and this time, the guest seemed to have all her limbs and body parts intact.

And she was nonchalantly floating in the air, too.

Actually, at that very moment, the girl-stalker lightly hopped over the windowsill, stood in front of me on the dull tiles, and, bursting with cheerfulness and a kind of charismatic recklessness, extended her hand in the universal gesture of introduction:

"Hi, Niren-kun, my name is Setsuna Tokage, let’s be friends!"

Ah, so it’s her, after all...

And she started off right away with my name.

Which, I remind you, is extremely uncharacteristic for Japan and is usually perceived either as rudeness or excessive familiarity. In my entire life here, I’ve dealt with only one person who did this. Yes, you guessed it—with myself.

To fully convey the explosive, self-assured energy of this girl, all that was missing at the end of her escapade was a shout of "I will become Hokage!"

I mean, “Tokage.”

Ha.

It’s even strange: this is already the third anime joke in less than half an hour. Have I really absorbed the country’s cultural code?..

Be that as it may, Setsuna’s grand entrance was poorly matched with her cheeks, red from recent embarrassment, her eyes desperately pleading with me to forget the last five minutes (and she doesn’t even know I spotted her two weeks ago!), my overall shock at the situation, and most importantly, the location.

Because we were still in the boys' restroom.

In a school that was foreign to her.

With a cheerful sound, my palm met my forehead, and I honestly admit, during the subsequent conversations of that day, I seriously considered whether to enhance the impact with my quirk. You know, just to get some rest...

Naturally, I was late for class.

Illustrations:

An estimated appearance of Setsuna at the time of her meeting with Niren (yes, this is from a completely different anime, but I made some small edits to her look to match—sharpened teeth, green eyes, a red tie, and some other stuff) and at the same time—a good example of a attractive Gyaru.

And the reason for her appearance is simple—in one interview, the manga author, Kohei Horikoshi, stated that Setsuna Tokage was a gyaru before she started at the Academy.

Which, if you think about it, raises a loooot of questions. Gyaru is a relatively recent trend in Japan, started only about fifty years ago and peaked in its popularity in the 1990s, and if it has survived in the same format in a Japan two hundred years into the future, populated by a whole lot of people who don't need to emphasize their appearance thanks to quirks...

???