Chapter 116: A Hero's Problem
The US may have said they were getting involved in the battle against the Ninth Circle, but that didn't mean it would happen immediately. They had troops already stationed in Japan, who'd been in the country for decades. However, modern militarization efforts had yet to reach these forces. So, at most, the bases in Japan had become more of a vacation spot than a true military stronghold.
In response, the President ordered twenty-five thousand Marines and Carrier Strike Group One to be dispatched to the country. Along with around three thousand of the country's best heroes. All of which were arriving now. Looking out across the open ocean, Miller calmly watched as the first of the forces sent began nearing the dockyard. Eventually, the large Lewis and Clark class cargo ship reached the main dock.
Dock workers rapidly got to work getting the USNS Buzz Aldrin tied to the dockyard. Once that was fully done, care workers rapidly began to unload everything bit by bit. At the same time, other ships began to arrive, while large transport aircraft flew out to land at UA. Next to Miller, All Might let out a low whistle as the hero now slowly looked over the ocean. At the same time, both men heard a voice call out to them.
"All Might!" the voice would shout, as Miller and All Might turned toward the source. Very quickly, the two found Star and Stripe rapidly walking toward them. A wide grin rested on the woman's face as All Might loudly chuckled.
"Star!" All Might greeted, as the heroine came to a stop, "Back so soon?"
"Well, leaving the party early didn't feel right," Star calmly replied, before she saw All Might holding out his hand. Quickly, she grabbed it, and both quickly shook.
"Gotta say, you're pulling out the works," Miller commented, swiftly gaining Star's attention.
"The President wants this situation dealt with as soon as possible. So he decided to pull out all the stops," Star replied, with Miller quietly finding it to be an understatement. Just looking out across the ocean, it was as if a sea of metal was sailing towards them. And Miller wasn't even sure if this was all of it.
"The help is much appreciated," All Might then spoke up, voicing Miller's unsaid opinion.
"You get the briefing?" Miller asked, watching as Star began to nod.
"I did," Star confirmed, "The military is on clean-up duty; heroes on law enforcement. Usual business."
It was a rather simple policy. The military was not trained in law enforcement endeavors. Their specialty was blowing things up when needed. It was one reason most MSF operations in Japan had just been occupation duty in Musutafu and the occasional FOXHOUND raid. Even with legal authority from the government, they were not trained to enforce laws.
So that role fell to the military police, which had them stretched thin, and what heroes remained in Musutafu. With heroes from overseas arriving, the issue of law enforcement would hopefully be dealt with soon. It was here, though, that Miller noticed All Might beginning to squint. With a confused look, the hero started looking toward the ocean again.
"Hey… what's that?" All Might asked while Miller began to follow his eyes. Looking out, the commander spotted a large ship sailing toward the dockyard. It wasn't as large as a carrier or a large container ship, but it was still massive. It dwarfed anything Miller could see so far. Stranger still was the ship's appearance.
"Is… that an Iowa-class battleship?" Miller questioned, wondering if his eyes were messing with him. The ship was as big, if not a bit smaller, than an Iowa. Stranger yet, the ship was built like an odd combination of an Iowa and an Arleigh Burke destroyer. Its general hull shape resembled that of the ancient battleship, while much of its main superstructure appeared to have been ripped from an Arleigh Burke. It even had the same gap in the middle.
However, it was then broken up into smaller layered platforms on the superstructure's exterior. Of which Miller could see a slew of CIWS guns, missile launchers, and lasers mounted effectively on the ship's sides. Were it a tried and true Iowa class, they would have sat where the old 5-inch/38-caliber, 20mm Oerlikon, and 40mm Bofors guns would have gone. Were that not enough, though, there was also a singular visible 155mm gun on the ship's bow.
Aside from that, Miller could see no other guns. No large triple gun turrets with 16-inch guns. There might have been a secondary 155mm gun on the ship's rear, but if there was, Miller couldn't see it. Star, now turning to see what they saw, began to squint out at the ocean.
"No. By the looks of it, the USS Washington has arrived," Star replied, trying her best to sound eager. But really, her attempted tone just sounded bored. And it only grew more boring the longer she looked at the ship.
"...Did the US Navy just build an Iowa, but replace everything with missiles?" Miller asked, as he again looked the ship over. The MSF had heard of the Washington class before, but attempts to actually learn anything about it had been… difficult. The US had kept a very tight lid on their Navy's new toy, to the point even the Broker couldn't gather anything on it. Not to mention, the ship was just too new.
It was commissioned at least a month ago, maybe two, at the bare minimum. So, intel was unfortunately scarce.
"Hell if I know," Star eventually replied, shrugging, "Most of my guys are Air Force. Navy stuff is not my specialty."
"It… looks like overkill," All Might muttered, the hero noting the ship's ludicrous amount of weaponry.
"It looks expensive," Miller pointed out, as he eyed the vessel carefully, "I'm glad we never stole that thing."
"I'm beginning to wish you did," Star joked, earning a brief snort from Miller.
"What's it doing here?" All Might asked, as Star again shrugged.
"If the rumors I'm hearing are right, it's doing the only thing it can do. Escort duty," Star replied, while Miller looked at the ship over again. Seemed about right. A battleship's two main historical roles in combat were shore bombardment and escort duty. Close-range shore bombardment was off the table; however, drones made escort duty somewhat tenable. Not entirely, but there were some factors.
Cheaply made drone swarms were a looming threat, and no side could continually shoot ten-million-dollar missiles at a cloud of plastic. So the Washington class was loaded to the brim with cheaper anti-drone weapons. Primary laser CIWS and secondary guns. And with the Washington class's size, the ship might have held more armor than its compatriots. Not enough to hold up against a tomahawk; that just wasn't possible without making the ship impossibly heavy. But it would likely stand up to cheaply made drones.
So it could act as a shield, if possible, for carriers. It wasn't a perfect solution; Miller hesitated to call it a good solution, but it was a solution. As he thought this, Miller noticed Star begin to squint toward the ocean again.
"If I'm a betting woman, then the Miller should be somewhere nearby…" Star commented, before pointing out across the water, "Yep, there it is."
Hearing his name had briefly confused Miller until the cogs in his brain began to turn. Following Star's hand, he found a new dot popping up on the horizon. It was barely noticeable, but he could see the USS Doris Miller slowly coming into view. They were truly pulling out the stops.
"...Think this will all go smoothly?" All Might inquired somewhat nervously.
"One can hope it will," Star muttered, the woman looking away from the ocean. Rather tiredly, she shook her head and sighed, her gaze now moving back toward the docks. There, Miller quietly noted all the Marines, sailors, and other personnel moving about.
"Brought along all this firepower, yet the people using it are still green," Star grumbled, as Miller nodded knowingly. Just looking over the closest batch of Marines, Miller could only notice how young they were. Most had to be eighteen, all fresh out of high school. In all likelihood, this was their first real job. Something to get them out of the house and create a start to their life. Not one of them had seen combat. Not one of their superiors had seen combat.
It was an unfortunate thing. Eventually, one Marine began rushing toward them. The kid, because Miller struggled to even call the Marine a man, rapidly waved toward Star and Stripe.
"Star! Got Colonel Baxter on the phone for ya!" the Marine shouted, quickly grabbing Star's attention.
"I'll be right over!" Star shouted back, before turning toward Miller and All Might again. With a brief nod, she slowly began to walk away.
"Gentlemen, nice catching up with you," Star told them, soon leaving the two behind.
"Hold it steady!" a hero yelled out, as Mt. Lady clutched the chunk of concrete in her hands tightly. It was originally the roof of an old arcade, but that changed when three of the building's walls were blown out during the massacre. The entire thing collapsed in on itself. Now, Mt. Lady was holding it up as the heroes searched for bodies. Below her, she spotted Death Arms beginning to motion for her to follow, like an airport marshaller directing an airplane.
Carefully, Mt. Lady shimmed through the street, the Death Arms bringing her to an abandoned warehouse.
"All right, there! Place it there!" he yelled as Mt. Lady placed the roof onto the building. Seconds later, the extra thousand pounds caused the warehouse to crumple. It didn't matter, though; it wasn't all that structurally sound to begin with. Likely would have been chosen for demolition once the city started to rebuild. Quietly, Mt. Lady wiped the sweat accumulating on her brow, her attention returning to the arcade. Slowly, heroes began to file out of the building.
"Found anything?" Mt. Lady asked, watching as a few tiny heads shook side to side.
"No," one hero replied, "It was empty, thankfully."
Thankfully, Mt. Lady thought. Oh, how times had changed. To think that a month ago, that would have been a nightmare scenario. To find an empty building with no one around. Before, it almost always meant that heroes were too late to the scene, that they'd gotten the wrong address, or that people had already been harmed. But now, it was the closest thing they had to a victory.
Because it was either an empty building or it wasn't. Even now, the image of people dragging entire families out of graves of rubble was still burned into her mind. Soon, though, Mt. Lady began to hear helicopters heading towards her. At first, she assumed it was the MSF, but when she looked up, she didn't see the usual VTOLs the mercs had started bringing. Instead, it was a mix of US Navy and Marine Corps helicopters.
A few began to land nearby, and their occupants quickly disembarked. American heroes filed out onto the area, and Mt. Lady began to shrink.
"Seems replacements have arrived," she heard Death Arms comment, right as Mt. Lady was back to her normal height. Rather quickly, the man walked up alongside her, his arms crossed.
"Then that's my shift for the night done," Mt. Lady replied tiredly, now stretching her arms. Slowly, she began walking away, as Death Arms gave her a quiet, brisk nod.
"See you tomorrow," was the last thing she muttered before continuing to walk. After a few minutes, she spotted one of the buses that the HPSC had assembled for the heroes. As most heroes were staying in temporary housing at UA, the distance from the school to the city was surprisingly great. Each one would drive them to and from the city and UA when their work started and ended.
It was helpful, but as Mt. Lady got on, she couldn't help but have one single problem with the system. Because as the bus started moving, and quickly reached its destination, Mt. Lady found herself staring at a hillside of graves. Positioned right outside Ground Beta was a graveyard, one that spanned out for a mile. Mt. Lady didn't know the whole story, but Principal Nezu had reportedly allowed the MSF to bury their dead on school grounds.
It was a temporary arrangement, as it took time to notify the dead's next of kin and to ship them all back home. But all that meant for Mt. Lady was that every day her bus would come to a stop, and she would have to pass the thousands of graves, over and over again. And that was taxing. To constantly be reminded of just how many people died. She was a hero… ok, well not the best of heroes… maybe not even a good one… but it was her job to protect people.
Mt. Lady loved the fame and attention being a hero brought, but she was supposed to save people. For most of the massacre, she was tending her wounds in a hospital. The rare moment she was in the field, she was avoided like the plague. Because every time she used her quirk, every single villain would suddenly fire everything in Mt. Lady's general direction. Subconsciously, Mt. Lady began to walk through the graveyard, her eyes tracing over names she couldn't read.
Instead, all she saw were the symbols or cultural items left on the graves. They… they were all just people. People roped into a conflict that none of them had to or even wanted to get involved in. But they did. Mt. Lady still wasn't sure why. Eventually, she bumped into something, and Mt. Lady was pulled from her thoughts. Turning around, she spotted the familiar camo fatigues of a soldier and the usual MSF skull patch.
"Oh, it's you," Mt. Lady heard a male voice mutter, a South African accent present. It was here that Mt. Lady saw the soldier's face, and a memory flashed through her head. Before her stood the same merc she met at UA's stadium. Quietly, the man just glanced toward her, half his body obscured from view.
"...Hi…" Mt. Lady hesitantly greeted, slowly remembering the soldier, "Sorry, I was just passing through."
"It's no bother," the lieutenant replied, though his tone was tired. Mt. Lady was half sure he was lying, and just didn't want to be rude. Carefully, Mt. Lady stepped to the side slightly, and the rest of the man came into view. In an instant, Mt. Lady's eyes went wide.
"What uh… what happened to you?" Mt. Lady asked, looking over the lieutenant's left arm. It was nothing but a nub now, a small mound of flesh wrapped up in some bandages.
"IED. Lost my left arm," the lieutenant replied calmly, before raising the nub slightly.
"I'm sorry that happened," Mt. Lady told him cautiously, though the man said nothing back. Slowly, an awkward silence began to settle in. Mt. Lady never expected to see this man again. She'd thought back to their meeting repeatedly, and only felt regret for her previous words. Of what she said to him and his sergeant… actually, wait…
"Do… do you know where your sergeant is?" Mt. Lady slowly asked, "I've been… meaning to apologize to him."
The lieutenant again glanced back at her, a quiet thought reaching his head. Reluctantly, the man turned away, before motioning for Mt. Lady to come along. There they walked through the cemetery, weaving through gravestones here and there. As they did, Mt. Lady surveyed the area again and grew confused. There were no other soldiers nearby. No squads on patrol, and none seemed to show up the longer they walked.
Instead, Mt. Lady found the lieutenant coming to a stop right in the middle of the graveyard. The man said nothing and let Mt. Lady ponder the situation. It took only a few seconds before the dots in her head began to connect. For a moment, Mt. Lady stayed silent, her surprise and shock more than apparent. Regret, confusion, anger, and sadness all came to the forefront of her mind.
"...How?" Mt. Lady asked, earning a sigh from the lieutenant.
"You know those trucks of kids the cult was sneaking out of the city? My platoon found one," the man replied solemnly. He didn't turn back to look at her; rather, he began to fiddle with his nub's bandages.
"At the time, half the platoon was a block away, clearing out some building. I was with them," the lieutenant continued, "Ichi was with the other half, attacking the truck."
The lieutenant stopped messing with his bandages then. Quietly, he tried to move his nub around, forgetting he no longer had an arm.
"He found the kids and started evacuating them from the area. But the cult, not wanting to lose their assets, sent in reinforcements," the lieutenant explained, slowly horrifying Mt. Lady. Very quickly, she saw where this story was heading, and she pleaded that she was wrong.
"Ichi's half of the platoon was outgunned, and we were fifteen minutes away. So he rounded up the kids, and hid them in a nearby store," the lieutenant continued, ignorant of Mt. Lady's pleas, "He locked them into a freezer, had one guy create some air holes, had another heat the room up, and then used his quirk to disguise the door."
The image of it was horridly vivid in Mt. Lady's mind. A lone group of people ushering away a crowd of kids, all as bullets flew around them.
"By the time I got there… it was already too late," the lieutenant explained tiredly, "We found the kids safe and sound, but Ichi… Ichi didn't make it. Instead, I found him slumped against a wall torn to bits, and with a pistol still in his hand."
Warily, Mt. Lady continued to look at the grave. Her mind went back to everything she'd said to the sergeant. Every ignorant and hurtful word. This man had died a hero, and Mt. Lady just treated him like crap.
"I… I'm sorry," Mt. Lady muttered, turning to look back toward the lieutenant, "For everything I said back then."
It was too late for an apology; she knew that. But it was still something she had to give. If the lieutenant acknowledged it, though, Mt. Lady didn't know. Tiredly, the man turned and began to walk away, not saying another word. By herself, Mt. Lady looked back at the grave, her thoughts being her only companion. After what felt like an hour, she decided to leave. Silently, Mt. Lady walked back to Ground Beta's entrance.
Passing through its large gate, she weaved through the mostly vacant streets, not entirely sure where she was going. But eventually, Mt. Lady came to a stop outside a lone bar. It, like everything else at Ground Beta, was set up temporarily for heroes to wind down after a long day. It was run by heroes. Its clientele were all heroes. It was a hero bar through and through. Walking inside, Mt. Lady sat at the first lone booth she could find. Looking around, she found the bar's atmosphere to be relatively dead.
A few dozen heroes sat around with drinks in hand, but there was no celebration. No overwhelming pride or accomplishment. Instead, the entire place had a dull, hopeless feel to it.
"I-I-I-I-I just can't take this anymore!" she heard one hero yell, before he slammed his fist onto a table, "All we find are bodies these days!"
"It's been nothing but work nonstop. I swear, I haven't gotten an ounce of sleep in days. I'm… I'm not sure how much longer I can go," another hero muttered, Mt. Lady watching as they wrapped their arms around their head.
"You're quitting? Seriously?" one hero questioned.
"What else am I supposed to do? I've been here for weeks, breaking my back over nothing but rubble," someone else replied, "I can't keep going like this… It doesn't matter at this point. Nothing we've done matters."
"...Found my wife yesterday… kids too," a new hero stated, while holding onto a glass with shaky hands.
"Oh… shit… I'm so sorry," a different hero told him, though it fell on deaf ears.
"They're… they're gone. And I wasn't there…" the previous hero replied, before slamming his glass onto a table, "I'm done with this fucking job."
All around the bar, Mt. Lady heard similar sentiments. All with the same keywords as each other. I'm done. I can't take it. It's too much. I give up. The same concept echoed around the bar over and over again. Hearing it all being said, Mt. Lady's mind went back to the sergeant's words.
"You act high and mighty now, but when shit hits the fan, can you honestly tell me that any of you heroes will stand and fight? Because for all I know, you and the rest of this industry are nothing but a bunch of pompous, greedy, cowards," she remembered him saying. Now it stuck in her mind. Mt. Lady still didn't believe most of it. She could hardly call half the heroes in this bar pompous; she could call even fewer of them greedy.
But… cowards… was it cowardly to leave something you knew yourself incapable of handling? Was it cowardly of a child to keep their hand away from a clothes iron, knowing it would burn them to touch it? Though that wasn't an accurate description of this situation. It was less like touching an iron, and instead like… like… There was no metaphor or simile she could think of.
No flowery language on how to describe this job. The dangers of it had been clear from the get-go. Clear since the first superhero comic was written. Clear since the first firefighter was burned alive. Since the first doctor caught the plague. The dangers of heroics had been for everyone to see. And now, Mt. Lady took it back; she did find a metaphor. Heroics was the hot iron. The child was told it was on. They were told it would burn them. They were told repeatedly and shown how it could burn through a shirt.
And still the child touched it. For some heroes, they knew the danger and grabbed it by the handle. For others, they laid their palm directly on the iron's face. Before the iron might have been off, so they kept their hand pressed. It might have heated up all the way, so they kept their hand pressed. It could have started to heat up, but they thought they could tough it out. Now they were getting burned.
And after ignoring all the warnings, ignoring all calls to either remove their hand or grab the handle, the hero now wanted to quit. Now that shit had hit the fan, no one wanted to stand and fight. In all honesty, Mt. Lady didn't know what hero she was. She loved this job. All the fame and attention from fans were wonderful. But… that fame shouldn't come at the cost of someone's life.
Mt. Lady didn't want innocent people to get hurt; she wasn't some uncaring sociopath. It's why, as everything went on, as all the words and memories ran circles in her head, Mt. Lady wondered, has any of what she's done mattered? So many people died during the massacre, and she'd barely played any part in stopping it. Before that, most of her career had been spent dealing with small-time punks, not terrorists.
What kind of hero was she? Had she done anything in the grand scheme of things? If nothing Mt. Lady had done mattered, then would quitting be for the best? So deep in thought, Mt. Lady didn't notice someone walking toward her booth. It was only when a voice spoke up that she became aware.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" the voice asked, Mt. Lady now looking toward the source. Kamui Woods stood across from her, right next to the other seats in the booth. He looked to be in rough shape. Much of his costume was singed, and some wooden bits were even still smoking. Some dried blood stained his chest, with a few specks covering his mask. Along with that were torn-up bandages around his hands and forearms.
"No, go ahead," Mt. Lady replied, taking note of everything. Must have been a rough day, she thought to herself. Slowly, Kamui slid into the booth across from her and, against his more orderly nature, slouched into the seat. A faint groan escaped from him, the hero muttering something about his back or maybe his knees. But somehow he didn't focus on any of that. Instead, he turned back to Mt. Lady and looked her up and down.
"You seem troubled," Kamui commented, causing Mt. Lady to snort humorlessly.
"Hard not to be," Mt. Lady replied, dropping her arms onto the table. Tiredly, she leaned forward and placed her head on top of her arms.
"You… wonder if any of what we're doing matters?" Mt. Lady cautiously asked, most of her words muffled in her arms.
"We're protecting the innocent. How could that not matter?" Kamui rapidly told her, only for Mt. Lady to pull one of her hands out from under her head. Slowly, she waved him off and sighed.
"I know, but… we've done a pretty bad job so far," Mt. Lady pointed out. She hoped Kamui would see what she meant, and slowly it seemed he did. The man stayed quiet for a few seconds, eventually crossing his arms. But while he understood, he didn't agree.
"Bad job or not, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we keep trying," Kamui told her, before carefully sitting up in the booth.
"These are tough times, and as heroes, it is our duty to work through them. To ensure peace and justice are brought about, and that the innocent are protected," he added quickly, leaving Mt. Lady quiet for a moment. How did he always have a point? Kamui Woods wasn't the most inspirational hero; most of his words were the usual cheesy Saturday morning superhero spiel. But they almost always had a point. These were tough times, and they'd need every hero on deck.
And as much as Mt. Lady knew it would suck, that would include her. If nothing she did mattered before, then it would definitely matter soon. That thought made the idea of quitting all too revolting.
A piece of cake, Ashido thought. Oh, how wrong she was. For whatever reason, Akatani had been nearly impossible to find. After school finished up, she checked practically all his favorite spots. The gym, the firing range, the support labs, the cafeteria, the MSF command center, even Ground Beta. But he wasn't in any of these locations. After three hours of searching, Ashido was about ready to give up.
That was, until she stumbled into the dorms and found almost everyone crowded around the common room's holo-table. Kirishima, Kaminari, Jiro, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Hagakure sat on the couches surrounding the table, all watching as Bakugo and Akatani arm wrestled. The blonde rather desperately threw everything he had into making Akatani capitulate. But instead, he… in all honesty, he didn't seem to be struggling all that much.
This made sense to Ashido as she quietly looked at Akatani. In the simplest way, the acid girl could put this… hot damn! Arms like those and he's still pushing himself!? Let the pythons rest, Akatani! It was like he had a cantaloupe on his arm. Honestly, Ashido thought to herself, Uraraka better be glad she was helping her out here, because it was a miracle that no one had snatched Akatani up yet.
Eventually, the thud of Bakugo's hand slamming onto the table broke Ashido out of her thoughts.
"Damn it!" Bakugo yelled out, now rubbing his hand carefully. At the same time, he quietly looked at his arm brace. All while Akatani rubbed the back of his head apologetically.
"I told you he was stronger," Kirishima commented, earning a grumble from Bakugo.
"Quiet shitty hair," Bakugo muttered, causing Kaminari to mock gasp.
"Jiro, I don't believe it. He's quiet for once," Kaminari joked, earning a brief snort from Jiro.
"Say it isn't so. Surely I've just gone deaf," Jiro sarcastically replied, before both of them began to snicker. Bakugo, in response, glared back at them, but ultimately said nothing. Quietly, he stood up and began walking away. That was until he came to a stop. In an oddly un-Bakugo way, he turned back around and dropped onto the couch next to Kirishima. It was strange, especially after Kirishima slugged his shoulder, and Bakugo said nothing.
Quietly, Ashido took note of the odd behavior before refocusing on the task at hand. Walking up to the couches, Ashido came to a stop next to Hagakure. As she did this, Akatani began looking around at everyone.
"Anyone else want to try?" Akatani asked, swiftly noting Kirishima practically launching himself from the couch.
"Oh! Me!" Kirishima called out, nearly slamming his arm onto the holo-table. Were it any harder, the table's screen would have cracked. Liking the challenge, Akatani soon got ready and placed his arm back onto the table. Right then and there, both teens started moving. For a few minutes, it seemed to be anyone's game, until Kirishima slowly began pushing Akatani's arm back.
It was shockingly close, but it rapidly became apparent Kirishima had the upper hand. Little by little, Akatani began to struggle, while Kirishima seemed far less tired. Soon, a hand hit the table, and Kirishima stood up victorious.
"Yes!" he cried out.
"I swear I almost had you," Akatani muttered, the teen now shaking his hand.
"Heh, sorry bro," Kirishima replied, "Got a mean grip on you though."
With that, Akatani stood up and slumped back onto the couch. As he did this, Kirishima looked over everyone excitedly.
"Anyway, my turn as the champion. Who's up for it?" Kirishima asked, before Jiro began to shake her head.
"Pretty sure it'd be no contest here," Jiro argued.
"Ditto," Kaminari agreed, while Hagakure quietly did the same. Bakugo didn't seem up for it, and Todoroki did look tempted, but ultimately passed on the offer. Yaoyorou, though, Ashido could see the girl thinking it over.
"I… wouldn't mind trying," Yaoyorozu replied, as both Jiro and Kaminari turned toward the girl in shock. Kirishima looked unsure, but before he could even protest, Yaoyorozu had stood up and placed her arm on the table. Of course, here, Ashido turned away from the scene. As interested as she was, she had a mission to attend to. Seeing Akatani was now by his lonesome, or as alone as one could be right now, Ashido slowly slid around the back of the couch.
Coming to a stop behind Akatani, the pink girl leaned forward onto the couch's back, her arms crossed over the cushions.
"So, Akatani, have any big plans coming up? Any new missions?" Ashido carefully asked, and the other teen soon glanced toward her.
"Nope. Swore those off for a few days," Akatani replied, causing her to slowly nod. Mentally, though, it was as if a record scratch had gone off in her head. He'd sworn off contracts!? Why would he… Was this because of Tokyo? Ugh! That makes this so much more difficult. A piece of cake, sure!
"Really? Could have sworn you'd be ready to get back out there. To fight the good fight and all that," Ashido commented, keeping her tone its usual calm. She'd need to keep everything subtle if this was going to work.
"Aren't there those animal rescue contracts you've talked about?" Ashido lazily questioned, watching as Midoriya began to nod.
"Well, yes, but it's like I said, I've sworn it off for a few days," Akatani answered, to which Ashido shrugged.
"Just curious," Ashido told him, "Got me thinking, is all. Whole lot of poor defenseless critters out there, so it's nice that someone's out saving them."
"Yeah," Akatani replied.
"That is what you did in the field, right? Saving a bunch of innocent creatures on the brink of extinction?" Ashido asked, before mentally cringing. Quietly, she worried she'd made her intentions a bit too clear with the last words. Her tone tried to stay casual, like this was just a normal conversation. But it felt too… obvious. Might be layering on the idea a bit too much.
"It was," Midoriya answered, not seeming to acknowledge Ashido's worry. She seemed to be in the clear… still, best to dial it back. Keep it casual.
"You enjoy doing it?" Ashido asked curiously, soon seeing Akatani's face light up with a smile.
"Oh, definitely! Always felt good to save lives," Akatani quickly replied, to which Ashido nodded in agreement. It was that reaction Ashido was counting on. When it came to someone like Akatani, he couldn't stop himself from helping someone. Be it something as simple as homework or as complicated as airlifting a several-ton elephant, it was an instinctive need to him.
And if Ashido was right, then that very instinct was what she needed.
"...You know, I saw a video once talking about how the… northern black rhino, yeah, how the black rhino was driven to extinction. Crazy stuff," Ashido added, only to mentally cringe again, "It's a shame no one was around to save it."
So much for dialing it back. Looking over Akatani, she waited to see some kind of reaction, telling her he'd caught onto her tricks. Instead, he said nothing. He blinked a few times, the words slowly registering in his head. And then he nodded cautiously.
"Yeah, a shame," Akatani replied, still nodding. Unseen by Akatani, Ashido began to slowly grin. Her work here was done… What? She didn't need to convince him to go; she needed Akatani to convince himself. It was a subtle thing. All Ashido did was put the idea in his head. Akatani's instinctive need to help would do the rest. Now that Akatani was thinking about animals in danger, he wouldn't be able to rest knowing there was something he could do. And if that coincidentally involved the same mission as Uraraka? Well then, mission accomplished.
To finish up her chat, Ashido began thinking up a few final words. Something casual to end the whole affair. Only to be interrupted as Hagakure yelled over her.
"Unbelievable!" Hagakure shouted, Ashido's head now whipping around. Confusion struck her for a moment before she spotted Kirishima and Yaoyorozu at a standstill. Both teens desperately tried to push the other's arm down. Both would barely budge in response.
"How are you doing this!?" Kaminari cried out, laughing somewhat. At the same time, Jiro loudly cheered next to him.
"Mother of all sleeper builds?" Kirishima asked through gritted teeth, the teen still trying to bring Yaoyorozu down.
"Something… like that," Yaoyorozu replied tiredly, the exhaustion slowly growing in her tone. Neither looked ready to fold, but just like with Akatani, Yaoyorozu's arm began to drop. Little by little, Kirishima gained the upper hand, until the heiress's hand hit the table.
"Holy crap, that was tough," Kirishima muttered, before chuckling to himself.
"Probably should have expected that, on account of… your training with Sasha," Kirishima commented, Ashido quickly finding the brief pause suspicious. She wasn't the only either.
"To be fair, I didn't expect it either," Yaoyorozu replied, before both teens noticed everyone else's curious gazes.
"Sasha?" Jiro questioned, causing Yaoyorozu to freeze up for a moment.
"Oh, she's just a… foreign exchange student I've been working with," Yaoyorozu replied, the answer satisfying almost everyone. Not Ashido though. She'd never met any Sashas at UA before. And if there was hero training involved, then this Sasha would have been in class B. With that thought, Ashido found everyone beginning to leave the room. Kirishima, however, stuck around on the couch. Curious, Ashido looked toward him calmly.
"There is no Sasha, is there?" Ashido commented, while Kirishima looked back at her.
"Don't know what you mean," Kirishima replied, Ashido giving him a mock gasp in response.
"Hiding secrets from your horn buddy, I'm hurt!" Ashido exclaimed, as Kirishima held up his hands.
"There is no secret!" Kirishima told her, grumbling.
"Sure," Ashido sarcastically replied. She'd figure out what was going on eventually. In the meantime, though, the acid girl slowly began to remember something.
"So what was that with you and Bakugo?" Ashido asked, before tilting her head to the side. For a moment, Kirishima just shrugged.
"Oh, we kinda just… started hanging out," Kirishima replied, though he sounded somewhat unsure. In fact, it sounded less like they were hanging out, and more like they were just in the same room often enough.
"You and Bakugo… hanging out," Ashido muttered slowly, "H-how!? He's just… he is such an ass!"
"Yep," Kirishima agreed, lying back onto the couch carefully.
"Months of knowing him and he still doesn't know any of our names, except for Akatani's!" Ashido exclaimed, knowing she was far from done. Bakugo never accepted help from anyone; he never hung out with anyone, he kept giving them all rude nicknames, he swore all the time, and he lashed out at pretty much everyone. If one were to look up the word asshole in the dictionary, Ashido was sure it would have a photo of Bakugo, use him as an example in a sentence, and his name as an alternative spelling.
"Why would you want to hang out with him?" Ashido questioned exassterbatedly. To which Kirishima shrugged.
"Well… I kinda sorta thought he could… change," Kirishima replied, before rubbing the back of his head. Ashido looked back at him in disbelief. Could Bakugo change? Maybe. Ashido was a firm believer that even the staunchest of enemies could be made to get along in the right circumstances. But that relied on someone actually tolerating them for five seconds to so much as try.
Not to mention, Kirishima was more the kind of person to think with his fists. And Ashido doubted he could punch Bakugo into friendship or… having decent respect for others. But somehow that wasn't where it ended.
"I mean I got the idea from you," Kirishima revealed, causing Ashido to mentally sputter. From… her?
"You did the same with those bullies back in middle school. Got everybody to get along somehow… thought I'd take a page out of your book," Kirishima explained, the memory slowly coming to her mind. It took a while, not because she didn't remember, but because that kind of event had… honestly happened a lot. She'd find some group of people bullying someone else, because of their quirk, who their parent was, or an uncountable number of dumb factors.
Ashido would step in, say a few words, add in a few dances, and… somehow they'd all come out friends. It… wasn't that impressive. It happened all the time. Ashido was just a very social person! But Kirishima didn't get the idea from somebody else. He got it from her. Ashido couldn't help but smile back.
"Kiri, you big softie!" she laughed, before launching herself forward. Both her arms soon began messing with Kirishima's hair, catching the teen off guard.
"Wha-hey! Quit it!" Kirishima called out, trying to swat her hands. But by then it was too late. His spikey do had already been messed up, now looking more like a thorny bush.
"Mr. I can fix him," Ashido teased, watching as Kirishima sighed. Could he do it? Maybe. Probably might take a while. But hey, at least someone was trying, Ashido mentally remarked.
"You know, I just thought of something," All Might began, the hero moments away from eating some soup. Rather quickly, Snake looked toward him, a curious look on his face. At the moment, both men were in the teacher's lounge, sitting across from each other, and eating lunch.
"Does the MSF have any World War Two vets?" All Might asked, causing Snake to raise a brow.
"How would we have a World War Two vet?" Snake asked in return, the man then biting into a rather plain BLT.
"I mean, the timeline is there. You're from the 1970s. By then, the youngest vet would have been… what forty three?" All Might pointed out, making Snake now think over the math. It was somewhat correct. Assuming their hypothetical veteran was eighteen by 1945, then there was a chance they could have served. But after basic training and all, they'd barely serve a few months realistically.
"Give or take," Snake replied in between bites of his sandwich, "Still doesn't mean it's possible."
"Come on, not one of the original three hundred members was in World War Two?" All Might inquired, as Snake shook his head.
"I've known all of them for years. I'm pretty sure I'd remember a thing like that," Snake told him. Genuinely, he would have remembered. The beginning of the MSF had always been unique in Snake's eye. Back when it was just three hundred people, things felt more… personal. He knew pretty much everybody, and to extent would even call them friends. Snake couldn't say the same for the rest of the MSF.
He cared for the entire organization, but it was too big for him to actually know everybody.
"Besides, most soldiers in service are young. Guys in their forties are either a rarity or in some kind of officer post by now," Snake added, knowing this fact far better than most. It was rare for anybody his age to still be in the field. Most had their knees or backs giving out on them from years of work. Snake was the exception to the rule, but he didn't know how much longer. Miller would always joke he'd be doing this till he was seventy, but that felt a bit extreme.
"Rarity doesn't mean impossible," All Might pointed out, dragging Snake out of his thoughts.
"True, but the only roles available in that sense are support stuff. Intel gathering, logistics, medical work…" Snake countered, only to come to a slow stop. Something seemed… off. Quietly, Snake ran through memories of the original three hundred. Striker Osprey wasn't old enough, nor was Flaming Buffalo. Death Whale and Withered Barracuda were noes as well. On and on the list went, until Snake's mind arrived at the Medical Team.
"...We hired a World War Two vet," Snake stated in shock.
"Yes!" All Might cried out, while Snake stayed quiet. How had he forgotten… actually, had he even asked him before?
"Who is he?" All Might asked, before slurping up some of his soup. Snake, not fully knowing all of the facts, pulled out his Idroid. Placing it on the table before him, he opened up the MSF's personnel files and began running through them.
"Codename is Iron Gator. He was a combat medic back in 1944 to 1945. Served in Europe before the army sent him to Japan in the final days of the war," Snake replied as both he and All Might looked over the file. Gator had been eighteen when he joined, nineteen by the war's end, and was currently fifty-eight. Snake had been right, though. Gator was not in any kind of field role. Instead, he'd become a full doctor in the years before joining the MSF. Now he served in the Medical Team in a permanent backline role.
"Incredible," All Might commented, with a wide smile forming on his face, "Surprised you forgot about it."
"Never really focused on someone's past all that much. Just on who they'd be tomorrow," Snake replied. Truthfully, it was the only rational answer he had. There was an endless number of times he'd had to see Gator, almost always because of an injury. But the topic never seemed to have come up in conversation.
"You realize what this means, though, right?" All Might quickly asked, causing Snake to shake his head, "You have the last living World War Two veteran working for you."
Oh… oh! They had a living piece of history working for them! It was always strange to remember just how out of time the MSF was. For All Might, meeting someone from World War Two would be like Snake meeting someone from 1645.
"He is a living history book," Snake commented, as All Might began to nod his head. It was still shocking to think about. All of the original three hundred, Snake, Miller, Paz, Strangelove, Chico, Amanda, Cecile, they were all living history to the rest of the world. At this thought, though, Snake spotted his Idroid's hologram change for a moment. Making her presence known, Victoria's avatar soon popped up in front of him.
"Victoria, has something come up?" Snake asked, the AI nodding her head. However, the movement was slow and cautious. Practically hesitant. Which gave Snake pause.
"Midoriya wants to go do contract work," Victoria replied, the words slowly registering in Snake's mind.
"Of course he does," Snake grumbled, before he tiredly bit off another piece of his sandwich. And to think he said he'd swear them off for a while. That boy, he just can't help himself, can he? Snake readied himself to give his usual spiel. To say that it was too dangerous, that Midoriya was too young, that he wouldn't allow it… But then he remembered the contract he was sending Uraraka on.
He still didn't like sending her out there, but they were pulling out the works to keep her safe. And Midoriya… Midoriya knew how to handle himself, Snake reluctantly admitted. The idea of putting him in the field alone still felt like a bad idea, but he'd shown he was capable back in Tokyo…
"Eh, why not. Already have one lined up," Snake cautiously conceded, not noticing Victoria's face flick to a look of shock.
"I thought you didn't let Midoriya go on missions alone?" All Might asked, the hero then sipping from his soup.
"I don't. But we're sending Uraraka out," Snake pointed out, "Put him with her, and I'll at least have eyes on him. It's the closest we'll get to me actually being there."
"Huh, fair enough," All Might replied, quickly seeing Snake's logic. Now turning toward Victoria, Snake finally noticed the AI's look of surprise. She'd clearly expected more of a fight with him about this. To which, Snake thought that was fair. He doubted anyone would expect him to agree to this. That said, the surveillance team that would monitor the mission was going to get cruise missiles… Snake wasn't going to risk it.
"Oh, cool. I'll let him know," Victoria eventually told him, her avatar disappearing seconds later. Her departure left the room quiet for a second, as both Snake and All Might stared at the Idroid.
"...So you said the digital world is hell for them, right?" All Might eventually spoke up.
"Yeah," Snake replied with a nod.
"So how exactly can any of the AIs stand being… well, alive?" All Might asked curiously, before sipping up more soup.
"Kinda a funny story, but one of Midoriya's buddies accidentally modified a pocket dimension to his liking, and then turned it into a super computer," Snake answered, now grabbing his Idroid off the table.
"He turned an entire pocket dimension… into a computer," All Might commented in disbelief, before muttering "Kids these days" under his breath.
"I don't fully understand it either," Snake replied with a shrug, "But anything connected to this pocket dimension will run like butter. Better yet, any AI who enters the pocket dimension gains the ability to physically feel stuff."
"My word," All Might muttered in shock, "And so they just have their own little world they can live in? What's the world like?"
"Well, it's… Minecraft," Snake stated, causing All Might to sputter.
"...The game?" All Might cautiously asked, Snake soon nodding back in response.
"Yeah…" Snake said, before trailing off.
"How does that work?" All Might inquired, to which Snake shrugged again.
"Hell if I know," Snake replied, the man then taking another bite of his sandwich.