There was a time, exactly a decade ago, when Daten City was not the dystopian wasteland we know today. No. In that era, the neon lights didn't illuminate crime, but hope. The skyscrapers weren't mausoleums of corruption, but beacons of a bright future. It was a city with order… a city of heroes.
Although the place was never fully understood for its inhabitants' capacity to manipulate their spiritual energy and use it not only for combat but in daily life, it was the cradle of beings unlike any other. Many who were born there came into the world with mutations that granted them superhuman abilities.
At first, these beings were persecuted and hated simply for being different—an instinctive human reaction to fear what cannot be controlled and what defies the known. Yet, no one truly knows how or when everything changed.
Some claimed it was because more and more of these gifted individuals began appearing. Others said that many of them used their powers to protect and benefit the city. Whatever the reason, a visible, almost tangible peace was established between ordinary people and those with gifts.
Many of these gifted individuals chose a quiet life, with ordinary jobs and simple routines. However, others—those whose hearts yearned for adventure, honor, and justice—chose to become protectors of order, especially against those who abused their miracle.
CUT TO: TEN YEARS AGO.
The sun bathed one of Daten City's Hero Academies. Among the students running across the gardens, a young girl stood out—purple-skinned, with pink hair tied into high odango buns, barely covering her face, and two long yellow horns with black line patterns.
Himika Toshi.
A cheerful, lively girl, whose laughter was as contagious as her optimism. Her personality was worlds away from the cold and dark persona she now wore just to survive. Back then, she cared about others before herself. She dreamed of saving people, of bringing smiles to those she helped, and of being one of the many lights guiding the advancing city.
There, between heroic ethics classes and mutation control training, she spent her days with her friends: Tsuga Hitsui—a girl who could have easily gone unnoticed if not for her green eyes that covered nearly her entire eyeballs except for the black frog-like iris, and her large, sticky tongue. And Minako Shiihara, the "most normal" of the trio, and yet ironically the most abnormal of them—her fascination with blood was then just a shadow she was still trying to keep under control with the help of therapists and friends.
At first, Himika felt repulsed by her horns and her skin color. But those insecurities faded, slowly but steadily—mostly because of her friends' support.
"I hate my horns," she once said after a group threw food at her, trying to get it stuck on them.
"You shouldn't, kero," replied Tsuga as she removed the mess from her horns. "Kero they're part of you, and you're part of them. Without them, Himika would just be Mika."
A tearful laugh escaped the violet-skinned girl. "You're such an idiot."
"But really, Mika-chan," the frog-girl said, tying a green ribbon onto one horn, forming a small bow, "show the world not your skin color or your difference—show them the color of your heart, and how it shines with its own light."
Those were peaceful days. Hero days.
But almost overnight… everything collapsed.
She and her friends had already graduated as heroes. Himika operated under the hero name Solution. She was loved by many… until the decree turned her into prey.
One day, the rumors of new laws to control heroes became reality. A new mayor took power—smiling politician, heart of iron. He issued a decree that echoed like a gunshot across every alley:
The Heroic Dissolution Act.
It strictly banned all heroes and vigilantes. His justification was clear, precise, and venomous:
"We will have no more anonymous justice. We do not trust that these gifted individuals will use their powers for the common good instead of overthrowing a legitimate government. More of them become villains every day. Power must be controlled. You are either with us… or you are against the city."
Driven by ancient human fear, hatred-filled speeches, rising violence among gifted mutants, and political manipulation, the "normal" citizens supported the decree.
She was hunted.
Treated like a monster.
To avoid being identified, she used makeup, full-body clothing, masks—anything to hide what she was. But the worst part… was what she chose to do to herself.
She cut her horns.
With her own hands.
Again and again, each regrowth a punishment she forced herself to repeat, until they no longer grew the same.
That is why, now, she hides them.
That is why she hates them.
They are a grave marker of defeat.
She never knew what happened to her friends. Some were captured. Others fled before it was too late. A few resisted—and were executed.
She searched for Minako and Tsuga… found nothing. She prayed they had escaped.
Some, like Slider and Diamond Diva, became vigilantes—ghosts of justice lingering in a city that no longer believed in hope.
Desperation pushed Himika to hide in the only place her appearance could go unnoticed—a gentlemen's club.
To survive.
Not to live.
And in her mind, always, the question that burns:
"What if I had tried harder? What if I had joined the resistance? Would I have been a true hero… or just another fallen statue?"
CUT TO THE PRESENT.
The storm raged outside.
"Pinky" breathed shakily. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, adrenaline and fear still surging. Her green eyes, wide and vulnerable with tears, stayed locked on the man who had just reminded her how hope tasted—that there might still be others like her out there.
The tears now were not of pain—but of mourning.
For the girl she was.
For the hero she could have been.
Outside the room, the Venomania sisters stood silently, having arrived just as their brother broke his own rule. For the first time, their jealousy wasn't only possessive—it was horror. Horror at seeing their Onii-sama, their leader, their reason to exist… allow a broken human to cling to him like a burning lifeline.
And worse still—
he wasn't rejecting her.
His hands didn't push her away. One rested softly on her back. Clumsy, almost paternal.
Despite everything… they let the moment remain untouched.
"Don't leave me," the purple-skinned girl whispered against his chest, voice shattered. "Please."
Devyus did not answer.
He simply placed his hand on her hair, stroking it gently—avoiding the scars where her proud horns once were.
Those horns that once symbolized friendship with someone just as different as she was.
Outside, the rain washed a city that no longer remembered what being heroic meant.
And beneath that rain,
Himika Toshi remembered what it felt like to hold onto hope.
"If you've reached this far… thank you for walking through Devyus's silence."
"Your thoughts matter — even one word helps me keep building this world."
© 2025 D.S.V.
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