Chapter 32

Chapter 32

It was a dark and stormy night – and that fit my mood perfectly. Tomorrow I was joining Iida, Midoriya, and Todoroki for a weekend of therapy and interrogation by the Principal's pet shrink. My ability to remain a student at UA probably depended on convincing the counselor that I was 'safe' – whatever that meant.

I felt like suddenly this was all falling apart. I almost sobbed. It was an unusually strong emotion for me. But the frustrations piling on the constant fighting along with the stress of living in a new country and in a new body was getting to me.

Nothing is falling apart. Emily comforted. Need I remind you that you came to UA not of your own free will, but because we effectively forced you into it. If you choose to leave UA, if they choose to expel you, you are not injured.

But you are. You and your family. This was your dream.

No. This was my nightmare, one that has, to some extent come true. I feared attending UA so much I relinquished my body and my life to you, taking on the karmic debt of interfering with your path to ease my own. Attending UA was my father's dream.

What is he going to think, I wonder? I still wasn't sure what I felt about the old man. He wasn't evil. He cared about his family even as he failed to care for them. I wasn't sure I could forgive him for driving Emily to her odd form of half-suicide.

It shames and saddens me to say, but I am not entirely certain I care what he may think. At this point the only thing I care about is what would make you happy. What path do you wish to follow?

What is my goal? I pondered. To be honest, I don't know.

I have a long list of things I don't want. I don't want to be a pro hero. On the other hand, I don't want to let an over-evolved chipmunk force me out of the school and away from people I've committed to helping. I don't want to be completely sucked into the HPSC like that kid Ando talked about. I kind of like the idea of taking down crooked heroes, but I don't want that to be my whole life or even my full-time job. Too much like the PRT. I don't want to be a vigilante, but I also don't want to feel forced to walk away from people in need for my own safety.

What do you want?

I started pacing – forward three steps, then turn, and back three steps. I want to finish the term. I want to help big hair guy get his license, and any of the others that want it. I want to help the three musketeers do good. I want you and your family to be safe and happy. Someday I want to help bring about more sensible laws so that people like those in the meeting today don't have to be afraid to protect themselves and the school doesn't have to be afraid to teach them.

I might even like to be one of those teachers someday. It felt good helping those four boys figure out how to get over themselves enough to work together this week. I even like the English Study Group, silly as it can get sometimes. It's a way I can pay back some of mykarmic debt.

So, you want to be a full-time teacher and part-time Custodes? Emily snickered.

A girl can dream. I smiled.

In truth it is a combination that I think would suit you well and meets many of you needs. As long as it includes friends and maybe a family – someday.

Maybe. Someday. A long time from now.

Do you need to attend UA to fulfil this dream?

No. Which gives me some leeway. There are two factors outside of my control that affect this. What does Nezu want? And what will Ando allow? And if the two come to loggerheads over me, who will win and what will it mean for me?

You could tell the Principal the truth – about what I did and who you are, I mean. Emily sounded uncertain, almost guilty.

We effectively already did, I reminded her. I was frustrated with his reaction. I don't think he believed us. It may not have been the whole truth, but it was enough to explain the discrepancies he's observed. If he doesn't believe in Weaver, he's not likely to believe in me.

Then you could ask him what he wants. If it is not something you can or are willing to say or do, then you can choose to leave. Or go to Ando for assistance.

The provisional licensing test is in June. One way or another I'll be there. I can't trust Ando won't pull the license he's given me or threaten to do so to get what he wants from me. I need one I've earned publicly. After that, I'll have a lot more options.

That night I slept poorly. I kept feeling someone fluffing my pillow each time I rolled over. I knew the place was haunted. Despite my spirit sense, I never saw who was there. A child, I knew. And one that seemed to like pranks. I don't think the pillow fluffing was a prank, but rather it trying to comfort me. When I finally fell asleep it felt like the blanket was stroking my back.

In the morning I did feel better. I had a plan. I'd ask Hound Dog what Hamster Maximus wanted to know. I would stick to the Weaver mentor story. It was effectively true. If he didn't believe it I'd ask him either how to prove it or where to go from there. Any grief or trauma counseling he wanted me to do, I would do. I needed a good report from this guy to stay at UA long enough to prove myself or at least to get the provisional license.

It was just past 0715 when the counselor pulled up in a van. He motioned me to get in. Iida and Midoriya were already there. I assumed Todoroki was closer to our destination.

"Do you have your overnight bag and work clothes?' he asked. His voice was gruffer than normal, but easily understandable.

"Yes, sir." I held up my bag and he nodded.

"Buckle up, please."

"Good morning, Yanagi-san," Midoriya offered with a shy smile.

"Morning Midoriya-kun. Iida-kun," I nodded at each. "It's probably easier just to call me Yanagi as we're going to be working together all weekend."

"Then call me Izuku," the green-haired boy offered.

"Iida," the other boy said, not quite as friendly.

Maybe he just handles his nervousness differently. Emily commented.

"How are the wounds healing?" I asked. I knew both boys had been hurt worse than I was. Iida still had light bandages on his arms.

"I'm all better. I've hurt myself so often now that I am getting faster at healing." Izuku said. I couldn't tell if he was joking or if he was actually able to train to improve his regeneration.

"My arms are not yet fully healed, but I am able to perform all necessary duties." Iida spoke in a stilted, semi-formal manner.

"I'm not sure what they are having us do this weekend, but let me know if you need any help." My offer was sincere. Effectively, I had a dozen hands, or more. I could lend him some if needed. "No reason to reinjure yourself before you finish healing. Not for a detention. I'm sure the school doesn't want to be responsible for a first year tearing open stitches because of a punishment." I knew Hound Dog could hear me. I wanted to remind him he had a responsibility for these boys.

"I will give that due consideration," the tall boy said then turned to look out the window. I turned to Izuku who just shrugged.

"Were you injured also?" he asked. "I heard you spent the night in the hospital too."

"I had a burn on my arm, but it's pretty much healed now. It was pretty painful, but that's actually a good thing. It means the nerves were not permanently damaged." I told him. I wasn't a fan of talking about wounds, but I'd heard this guy spent a lot of time in the infirmary. I wanted to give him something to consider if he were ever burned. Given the next guy we were picking up was a walking flamethrower, I figured it could happen in a class exercise.

"Good to know." He pulled a battered notebook out of his bag and started jotting something down. I sent a wisp to peek over his shoulder. He was basically writing down what I had just said as well as some follow-up medical questions. Then my wisp's view was blocked by a pair of glowing golden eyes. I jerked it back and pointed several others at the boy. He was surrounded by eight spirits who were all looking at me. They were human shaped, some obviously male and some female. I could not make out their details. But they were definitely attached to Midoriya.

Suddenly, the van seemed very crowded.

What am I looking at? I asked my on-board expert.

I have not seen anything like it. They are part of him, like I am part of you. But they are not equal. Both more and less powerful than him.

Are they hurting him?

I see no sign of it. They are part of him.

Ok. Please keep an eye on them. Talk to them if you can. It would be nice to know he's ok.

I will endeavor to do so. It will affect my ability to translate.

Don't worry about that. It might be good to remind the shrink I've had a head injury.

"Yanagi?" Izuku asked. I had been staring out the window, looking at him only with my wisps.

"Sorry, I was thinking." It was a phrase I had practiced a lot for just this sort of occasion.

"That's alright." He said then lapsed into silence.

We picked up Todoroki at the gate of an impressive traditional-looking compound. Endeavor was standing next to his son, though the two were not touching or talking. When the van door opened the Flaming Hero reached in and forced a card into my hand. "I would like to talk with you, Yanagi-san. Call me next week."

Then the hero nodded to Mr. Dog and left without saying a word to his son, who silently climbed in and took a seat as far from me as he could. The counselor looked at me, then at Todoroki then back to me. With the slightest of shrugs, he turned back to the wheel and drove on.

"What's this all about?" I asked the two-toned boy – holding up the card. It had an email address and Endeavor's hero logo. Nothing else.

"I cannot say. I apologize for his importuning you and recommend you ignore his request and destroy the card." Todoroki's tone was not quite as flat as Kodai's, so I picked up what I thought was embarrassment. He knew what this was about – or suspected at least – and really didn't want to talk about it.

Emily giggled. I decided to ask – later.

It was just past 0945 when we arrived at our destination - the Medusutaru Rehabilitation Center. The Center looked like a college campus – with dorms and greenspaces, office buildings and dining halls. As we drove through the campus, I could see several people, most with visible disabilities, moving from one building to another or just relaxing in the sun. We ended up at the facilities maintenance building.

"You can leave your bags in the van," said Hound Dog. "We'll take you to your dorm later this evening." He turned his seat to face the four of us.

"First, let me give you a little background. The government funds this rehabilitation center to help people permanently injured by improper quirk usage find new ways to move forward with their shattered lives. Many need physical therapy to learn how to operate with lost limbs or senses. They may also need vocational and occupational rehabilitation - even job training. All of that is offered here in a full-time residential environment."

He gestured out the window towards a teen girl in a wheelchair sitting in the shade working on a tablet. "You four decided to ignore the law prohibiting the unauthorized use of quirks for anything but self-defense. You boys were lucky. No one – other than possibly yourselves – will face permanent injury from your criminal actions. Yanagi-san was not so lucky, nor were the people around her. Her decisions have directly or indirectly led to death and dismemberment. She has even been maimed herself. She has that loss in common with the patients here at Medusutaru. Think on this over the weekend. These people represent the injury done by people ignoring the quirk laws – people like you."

"Let me state there are three elements to your detention. First will be the punishment. You will be undertaking many, many hours of menial labor, without the use of your quirks. I repeat. You are forbidden from using your quirks while at this center. Am I understood?"

The boys and I looked at each other, then barked in unison, "Yes Sensei."

"The second part of the detention will be several group therapy sessions. You have all faced the trauma of combat – of doing violence on others and having it done to you. This requires a structured debrief where we will examine the sorts of stress such situations can put on a person, strategies for effectively coping with that stress, and talk about the importance of seeking help when needed."

I saw Midoriya nodding, but both Iida and Todoroki tensing up. I had experienced mandatory post-combat psych visits in the Wards, so the basic experience was nothing new to me. I had no idea how effective Mr. Dog would be at this. His judgmental attitude at beginning was not encouraging.

"Finally, I will be meeting with each of you individually to discuss your specific needs and questions." He said the last with a doggy smile. He was not wearing his costume or his muzzle, so it was easy to see his full face. "Remember, I'm here to help you get better. You can trust me."

I sighed – inside, where it counts.

"Before you go, I want all of you wearing these earbuds, just like in the hero basics exercises. I want to be able to communicate with you at any time. Also, I want you to be able to talk with me or let me know if you need help. You won't be able to use these to talk with each other unless I set it up that way."

And you certainly won't be listening to or recording our conversations, I thought.

Are you becoming paranoid? Emily asked.

Becoming? No. of course not. I answered truthfully.

After that, he got us out of the van and introduced us to Furuki-san, a large raccoon-hybrid with a scarred face, missing right eye and ear, and a mangled left hand. He was wearing coveralls and a tool belt.

"I'm told you've been bad boys and girls so I'm to work you 'til you realize your mistakes." His voice was rough and slightly distorted from his scarred lips. He gestured to his face with his mangled hand. "I was eighteen when I got caught in an explosion caused by a hero and villain fighting in the street, not paying attention to the people around them. Collateral damage they called me. That's everyone here. All the residents and most of the staff. Collateral damage. You think about that when you're out there saving the world. But enough chattering."

"You two," he pointed to Izuku and me, "are working the West Quad. You two are doing the South Lot. Each of you takes a sack and a stick. Pick up any trash on the ground and put it in the sack. When the sack gets full – empty it into a trash bin. You'll be emptying those tomorrow, when it's not so busy. Any questions? Good. Go to work. Lunch break is at 1230." He stomped back into the building.

An assistant gave us each the sac with a shoulder strap and a half broomstick with a spike at the end. Pretty standard trash pickup gear. He then pointed us to our assigned area, mentioning we should police the trash along our routes there and back as well. My watch read 1002 when we started.

I spied on Izuku with a wisp while we worked. The eight spirits attached to him were keeping an eye on me. I made no attempt to communicate or control them, knowing angering protective humanoid spirits was a bad thing.

"Gran Torino said you were an effective, but undisciplined fighter." Izuku's conversational opening caught my attention.

"I was impressed with him too. Serious speed and pretty effective tactics. He saved my butt." I was surprised to see the boy blush. Japan had a lighter nudity taboo than the US, but they came across as more prudish. At least, the people in the school did. Whatever cultural origin, my embarrassing him cut the conversation short. I was fine working in silence.

Eventually he tried again. "Did you mean what you said?"

"What did I say?" I asked. It felt like he had started the conversation in the middle, and I didn't want to try to guess what he meant.

"You said all a person needs to be a hero is the willingness to take risks and suffer pain to help people." He was not looking at me, a particularly evasive ice cream wrapper taking up his attention.

"Yeah. That's what I believe anyway."

"What about quirks?"

"What about them?"

"Do you think you need a quirk to be a hero?" He finally looked at me with his big green eyes.

"No. I think there are a lot of heroes without quirks, and there have been throughout history. Even in the world today the twenty percent of people that are quirkless still have the opportunity to be heroes, if they choose to take a stand when others run. Fight the fight they know they can't win to give other people a chance to live. Quirks help, like weapons, or skills, or training helps. But those things can never be enough without the choice to stand and fight. Or to run into the burning building to save that last person, or to treat one more patient while they are dying themselves. To do whatever it takes. Win or lose, that's a hero."

"I was …" He stopped and started over. "Everyone thought I was quirkless, all the way through middle school. My quirk didn't manifest until right before the UA entrance exam. I was determined to be a hero even though I thought I didn't have a quirk. But everyone told me I couldn't. That I'd never be a hero."

"And yet you still applied to UA," I pointed out. "Even without a quirk you were working to be in a position to take risks for other people. Sounds like everyone was wrong. No, you just have to keep doing what you were doing then. Work hard and don't let your quirk define you. You used your smarts and determination to get here. Now keep using them along with your quirk to do better."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Do you hero students always talk so seriously? That seems kinda boring." The girl in the wheelchair I had noticed earlier was rolling down the sidewalk. She had stopped behind us and listened while we talked.

"What? No! I mean …" Iziku blush bright red again. He has got to get used to girls. I wonder if there are no women in his family.

"Yeah, we can be pretty dull at times," I agreed. "How about you? What do you think is exciting to talk about?"

"Boys!" The girl was pretty and knew how to use it. She was smiling at Izuku who was glowing brightly enough to affect traffic – air traffic. "And music, and movies. But my favorite thing is sumo! Did you watch the March Basho? I was amazed a Maegashira #17 could take the championship."

I had no idea what she was talking about. I had heard of sumo – big guys in diapers bumping bellies, but had never watched it.

My father enjoys watching the sport, but I have never been fond of it. Emily added.

"I missed it," I admitted.

"It's always exciting to see an underdog prevail," Izuku replied, gathering his courage to look at her. "But wasn't he a former ozeki? That doesn't really count as an underdog. Maybe as an old champion's last stand?"

"Exactly! It was like a movie. There's a lot of drama in sports. And with sumo you get a new drama every few months." She wound down and seemed to have to catch her breath. "I'm Ikuta Erika. I should be in my third year of Junior high but I'm here instead. I still take classes online, but it's not the same."

"We're first years at UA High," I said.

"I know." She rolled her eyes. "You're here because you got in trouble. I'm supposed to tell you my story and get you to feel sorry for me. Sounds boring to me."

"What story?" Izuku asked. "Oh! I'm Midoriya Izuku. Pleased to meet you." He bowed.

She giggled. "It's not an exciting story. There was this boy – Kenji – at my school. He has a force barrier quirk. When one of the younger boys – Ahn – ran out into the street without looking, Kenji threw up a barrier to stop the taxi that was going to hit Ahn. My mom and I were in the taxi and we crashed right into the barrier. I ended up like this." She gestured to her legs and the chair. "So don't use your quirk to save other people because you can hurt other people. Of course, if Kenji hadn't used his quirk Ahn could have been killed. Since I'm not dead and my Mom is fine, it was better that he did. I don't see why some people don't see that."

"See, Izuku? That's what I mean about heroes."

"Kenji?" the boy asked.

"No, Erika-chan here. She accepts the damage to herself to save Ahn. That makes her a hero in my eyes."

"No!" It was the girl's turn to blush and hide her face.

Erika stayed with us until lunchtime. After lunch, Mr. Dog pulled me aside for my solo counseling session. We went into an office with a couple of comfortable chairs across a short table from each other.

"Would you like water, juice, or tea?" he offered.

"Tea, please." After he handed it to me, he sat back and looked at his tablet.

"Before we start with your questions, I have one of my own." I knew this was a risk. Social situations had never been my specialty. But I thought this was one of those social problems it was better to face head on.

"Please." He sounded a little surprised.

"What do I have to do to prove to the Principal that I'm not a danger to the school?"

He gave the slightest jerk backwards. I had surprised him. "What makes you think the Principal thinks you are a danger?" I never liked the way shrinks answered a question with a question.

"He told me so when he visited my home. He thinks I'm not me. It's pretty hard for me to prove I am myself if he doesn't take my parents' word, or the fingerprint and DNA evidence I'm sure the last two hospitals I've been in have given him."

"He has concerns that you are showing an anomalous level of skill with combat situations and use of your quirk. Skills that were not evident in the entrance exam." The counselor put his tablet on the table. I'm sure it was recording. I was recording too, with my hidden collar camera.

"Yes, he said that. And I explained that I have been working closely with the spirit of an experienced hero from the Interregnum. She coaches me, advises, and helps me find new ways to use my quirk. He seemed to accept that when I explained it to him."

"A spirit guide is hard to swallow. It sounds too much like an old fairy tale," he complained.

"Says the giant talking dog," I countered. "Quirks have helped create a reality that people from the nineteenth or twentieth century would have found fantastical and very much like a fairy tale. The government recognizes Medium-type quirks. They're just not well advertised."

"I suppose." He quibbled.

"I've been told that I need to prove myself to the Principal to stay at UA. I would like to stay. But I'm not sure what he wants from me. If you can help me understand that, maybe I can give you or him the necessary proof."

"He is concerned about the number of conflicts you've been in since school started."

"Understandable. So am I. Seven conflicts is a lot. While I've survived them, it's not been without permanent damage." I rubbed my empty socket under my eye patch.

"Is he blaming me for getting attacked? Inoue, Inoue, the Ravagers, Inoue again, and a fourth time." I counted on my fingers. "Four of those were based on a centuries old family feud that predates quirks, much less my attendance at UA. The Ravagers were part of a large coordinated attack on UA and All Might that affected all the students in the school. I don't think you can blame that one on me."

I leaned forward staring at him in the eye intently. "That leaves my internship. UA presented me the offer from the Bounty Heroes and I accepted it, assuming UA had done the necessary due diligence to insure I was not walking into a criminal enterprise …" I stopped, breathing hard. After visibly controlling myself, I continued. "I maintained daily contact with Kan-sensei, reporting my concerns about what I saw and did. I followed the instructions of my supervisor. On the first day I was instructed to take out four known villains. I complied. Conflict number six. I was instructed to go with my supervisor to Hosu City. I informed my teacher I was going on an out of town mission and gave him what few details I had."

"When we arrived at the trainwreck site I was told to stay in the van and observe unless attacked. I did. As soon as I realized the situation was out of the ordinary, I tried contacting my teacher, the school, and the police. I was unable to do so, but continued trying."

"Then my own supervisor attacked me with a paralysis weapon she had told me was a tracker for my own safety. I disabled my attacker and her partner and detained them. I disabled the firearms that were endangering me. Still I stayed in the van, until I was attacked by a villain. At that point, I reacted to try to remove any unconscious or detained people from the battlefield and make my escape – as I was instructed. We know what happened from there." I rubbed my arm.

"What more explanation does he want? I've said all this before. To the police and to Kan-sensei. It was in my report." I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging hard.

"The family feud was outside of my control. The League of Villain attack was targeted at the school. My internship was … the school's responsibility. I know I am safe enough for the school. But at this point, I have significant doubts the school is safe enough for me – or any other student." I was exhausted and sank back into the seat looking down at my hands.

Mr. Dog looked like I had spent the last five minutes kicking him repeatedly.

"Having said all that, I still want to stay at UA. I don't really think that Greedo and Jeeta are your fault. It was just villains being villains. One of the things Weaver has taught me is that heroes are mostly reactive. The initiative is almost always with the villains. That was what happened with the League of Villains and in Hosu City. The villains got a jump on us. Even with the Inoue, they mostly had the initiative. I started counter-punching through the media. But they always had violence as an option. And they weren't afraid to use it. That forced me to react with violence to protect myself."

"Why so much violence?" he asked quietly. "We try to teach that deadly force should always be the last resort. You seemed to use it when you didn't need to."

"When did I do that?" I asked curious rather than confrontational.

"What do you mean? You blew Volcano's arm off." His confusion was evident.

"I know. When did I use lethal force that I didn't need to?"

"Are you saying you needed to blow his arm off? That's ridiculous. You could have done something else." His objectivity was slipping, which told me he was emotionally opposed to that sort of violence. I wondered if that was why he worked in a school rather than on the streets.

"Like what? Please tell me what else I could have done in that situation."

"You could have knocked him out. That's how heroes capture villains, for the most part."

"Tried it. He was too tough."

"You could have tied him up, like you did with the others."

"Tried that. He melted my bindings."

"You could have used the Jedi choke you used on Inoue."

"Tried it. He was too strong."

"You could have flown away."

"If I had not acted decisively at that exact second, he would have killed both Gran Torino and me. I had no other choice."

"How can you know that?"

"Precognitive secondary quirk similar to Sir Nighteye's, though much more limited. Developed due to a unique quirk interaction during the Bus attack. Defined and listed by Assayer. I assume Kan-senesi has put it in my file."

Hound Dog picked up his tablet and spent a few minutes reading some details he had missed. Finally, he put the computer down. "And the Nomu?"

"Again, we tried everything else we could think of. It had killed several people in front of us and was in the process of killing more. We had to stop it. And I am not convinced I killed it. It was regenerating, even without a head, before the dragon blood caused it to overload or something. I assume the authorities are doing an autopsy."

He was quiet again for a bit. Looking over his notes.

"Why do you want to train the non-hero students to fight?"

"Sir, please. You were at the meeting. We don't want to train them to fight. We want to train them to survive another attack. That may mean running, or hiding, or – only if absolutely necessary – fighting."

"When you say 'we', do you mean you and Weaver?"

"No. I mean Togata-senpai, Hado-senpai, and Haya-senpai, and all the other hero course students at the meeting – and me. I may draw on Weaver's knowledge and experience, but I don't say 'we' meaning her and I. I learn a lot from her. But I'm not her."

"Are you having trouble sleeping, or bad dreams since the Hosu incident? Or feeling depressed or angry?"

"All of the above, to some extent. The past couple of months have been very stressful, for a lot of reasons. I am talking to Kan-sensei and Haya-senpai, and my friends and family. Even to Weaver. It all helps. But I would love some time just to be a student."

"It sounds like you have a lot of support. That's good. If you ever need another ear, please call me. Thank you for your candor. But our time is up."

The rest of the weekend was more of the same, though I avoided blowing up at Mr. Dog again. While Iida and Todoroki were standoffish, as much as they could be while in group therapy, I got to know Izuku better. I never figured out his spiritual entourage. Emily said she had made an initial contact and they were very protective of the boy. If we were ever close to him for an extended time, she might be able to get further. Our chores included policing the green spaces and parking lots, bussing tables at meals, and emptying hundreds of trash cans. It was all hot, sweaty, smelly work.

We also "met" other residents of the center – including Taku-chan, a forty something former professor with the mind of a five-year-old. He sustained brain damage when a vigilante punched the villain holding him through a wall. The villain did not let go and Taku-chan ended up with a traumatic brain injury.. And single mother Kubo Shiori who lost her arm when a hero student with laser-hands cut her free from a burning car. There were a lot more stories like theirs.

Furuki-san was right. They were collateral damage, but that didn't mean they weren't people too. In too many cases, it sounded like the pro heroes weren't around, and if someone hadn't acted someone might have – would have – died. You can't save everyone, but you have to try to save those you can.

From the faces of my year mates, I'm not sure we had learned the lesson Mr. Dog had wanted us to.