Chapter-86
The title of 'hero' was stained...
Now any hypocrite who possessed quirks believed they were worthy of being a hero. They thought that just by being admired, famous, and wealthy, they were already heroes. Since when does a hero need admirers? Since when is it necessary to be famous or recognized? Since when was money necessary?
The 'Pro-hero' initiative was one of the biggest mistakes society has made. They were not heroes, just individuals seeking something in return – fame, money, recognition. No one was truly worthy. No one!
Being a hero is risking your life for the greater good! Saving lives! Helping people! That was being a hero! Don't expect anything in return for a good deed! Now the hero's name was tarnished! No one was worthy! Except…
"All Might..." was the whisper of a man alone in the streets of the city center on a dark rainy night. His hair was dark, and his eyes were red. He wore torn and worn clothes, with a large red scarf wrapped around him. Around his neck, a mask was just a piece of white cloth tied around his head. The man was heavily armed with several blades, white weapons, and swords.
The stranger stood in front of a window of an electronics store, watching several screens that displayed the symbol of peace saving people from a burning building. With an analytical look, the armed man surveyed the empty streets around him. It was 2 AM, if he wasn't mistaken. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a newspaper clipping.
"A gang of more than 20 members terrorizes the lower areas of the city of Tadaramy, involved in robbery, kidnapping, and murder. Professional heroes warn to stay away from the building where their hideout is presumed to be."
Crumpling the newspaper, he let it fall to the ground. Walking to an alley, he crouched down to gain momentum and jumped to grab an emergency ladder. Climbing up the building, he reached the roof. Taking off, he began to run quickly, making great jumps from building to building. As the minutes passed, he reached the lower areas of the city.
The red zones of the city were 'abandoned' places, so to speak. The police knew that this place was infested with the worst criminals or 'villains,' but no one had the need to intervene unless something serious happened, and only then did they act. Typical of the authorities, they only act when it's too late. As for the professional 'heroes,' they were not interested in facing this type of people, simply because here they would not have recognition from anyone. Typical of the 'Pro-hero,' they only act when they have thousands of spectators.
Silent, landing on a ruined building, the scarf-wearing stranger stuck a blade into a wall for support. He silently opened a window, moving in stealth mode. Walking just a few steps, he smelled the strong aroma of death. Raising an eyebrow, the swordsman sniffed the smell of blood throughout the place. Walking through the hallways, he found several bodies lying everywhere.
Walking at a slow pace down the hallway, he stopped to look at one of the many bodies. Examining it, he noticed that the cause of death was due to a knife cut on the neck. Leaving the body, he found a kunai stuck in another body. Removing the knife from the skull of the deceased, he looked at it with interest.
Apparently, someone got ahead of him in his cleaning work. Touching the blood, he saw that it was not clotted; it was fresh. Whoever did this was still nearby. Standing up, the man with the red scarf walked through the hallways, where he found more bodies. Reaching a large room, he finally found 11 bodies that completed the 20 criminals he was looking for.
"You're late to the party." The swordsman reflexively took one of the many swords he had and pointed it at the place where the voice came from. To his surprise, he saw a blonde brat wearing a white sweatshirt now stained with blood, a testament to the poor souls who once occupied this building as a lair. Strangely, the teenager had one blue eye and the other red, with a peculiar pattern of commas.
"But you can stay and see how it ends." With a cruel smile, the teenager drank from a half-empty bottle of vodka, then threw it towards the bodies. Taking out a lighter, he lit it and threw it at the pile of bodies, now slowly being engulfed by flames.
"Who are you?" The newcomer asked threateningly, not taking his eyes off the blonde brat, who casually walked through the old office to grab a large bag and put it on his back.
"Nobody," with that simple answer, the teenager was about to leave through the door, but the guy with the sword stood in his way with his sword raised. "Isn't it polite for one to introduce oneself first?" He asked mockingly as he brought his free hand to a short sword strapped to his back. The stranger with the red scarf only grunted, sheathing his sword, and turned his back on the brat.
"Stain." With that answer, he walked up to one of the windows and broke it with a punch. Looking behind him, he saw that the fire consuming the bodies was spreading throughout the building. "I have nothing against you; my objectives were—" He said, looking at the teenager who only raised an eyebrow at what he heard. Without further ado, the newly recognized Stain jumped out of the window to fall into another building. Under the rain, he began to run away from the scene of the crime. The firefighters, along with other authorities, would not take long to arrive.
As the minutes passed, we see the masked man with a red scarf arrive at an abandoned subway. Going down the stairs, he walked through the dark corridors of the abandoned place. Reaching a corner of the deepest part of the subway, which was a car, he turned on an old lamp hanging from the roof. Giving a sigh, Stain dropped several of his weapons on one of the seats in the car.
"Cozy place," the black-haired man did not seem surprised that the brat had followed him. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the teenager was leaning on the door frame of the car with his arms crossed.
"Are you coming to try to murder me?" Stain asked calmly. Even with his back to the boy, he kept his hand around his sword. He wouldn't be surprised if he came to kill him. After all, he was a witness that he was responsible for several deaths and the burning of the scene.
"No," with a cold expression, the blonde just sat in one of the many seats in the car. "It's been a few weeks since I arrived at this place, and you're one of the first people who doesn't shit your pants when you see the way I do things." He commented calmly and then dropped the bag he was carrying. Looking around, he found a poster of the peace symbol. Raising an eyebrow, he looked again at the man in the scarf who was opening a can of pre-cooked meat. "All Might fan?" he asked with an impassive expression, catching a can that Stain threw at him so he could eat too.
"Yes..." with heaviness, the black-haired man with reddish eyes dropped to the floor to look at the lamp while he ate the meat from the can with his hands. "He is the only one who deserves my respect, the only one who is worthy of the title of 'Hero.'" He spoke seriously, now looking at the image of the peace symbol. "...the only one who has the right to end my life." Finishing eating, he squeezed the can to throw it out of one of the many windows of the car.
"Hero?" Opening the can with his hands, the blonde only ate a little. Looking at the other guy, he saw that he still had the sword at his side as a precaution. "That is a word that today has lost its meaning. Since I arrived at this place, everyone People who wear costumes think they are 'Superheroes,' but I only see people who seek attention and fame with 'heroic' acts. Since when do heroes expect something in return for what they do?" He asked boredly as he finished eating and set the can aside.
"Yes..." Stain looked at the teenager for a moment, thinking about what he said. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought that way. "What's your name?" He asked, watching as the boy just shrugged his shoulders to lean back in the seat he was in.
"I already told you, I'm nobody, just a person who was expelled from his home and branded a traitor. Now I'm just looking for a new life." Looking at the bag he was carrying before, he opened it to show an incredible amount of money, but he only took out two wads of bills and then closed the bag again. "This will serve me until I get a real job; I'll leave the rest somewhere." Shrugging my shoulders, I just yawn to look at the lamp that was in the middle of the car.
"Ronin..." the teenager looked confused at Stain who looked him in the eyes. "Ronin is a term that not many understand. Beyond meaning a traitor who left his clan or master being expelled by them, he is someone with his own ideals who seeks his path, not serving anyone, just living life his way and without regrets. You are a Ronin." Finishing saying that, he pointed to the blonde. "I will call you Ronin."
"As you wish..." disinterested, the blonde just closed his eyes. "Aren't you afraid of sleeping with someone who killed 20 people?" The teenager asked without opening his eyes and maintaining the posture of leaning on a seat.
"You're not the only one with Ronin's blood on your hands... you're not the only one," closing his eyes, Stain could only rest; today was a long day. "I won't lie when I say that I would have done something different; I would have killed them too." Giving a sigh, he just sat there in the dark face to face with the blonde, who only echoed the sentiment, "We all have different ways of doing things; it's nice to find someone who thinks like me."
"I think so…" Opening his eyes, the teenager looked at the subway entrance; the rain was slowly stopping.
"Society needs a change." Stain opened his eyes to look at the teenager who was accompanying him. "We don't need false heroes, no... we just have to make them disappear like the plague they are." He spoke darkly with a red glow in his eyes. For years, I had to tolerate seeing how the most unworthy people received the title of 'hero'; it was an insult that people like Endeavor and others are heroes.
"Maybe you're right..." in silence, the teenager only saw the swordsman's look full of hate and rage. How much resentment must he have against the Pro-hero or against society itself? Giving a sigh, the teenager just looked at the drops of water falling from the roof of the car, "Better people are needed to do justice…"
"…" Stain raised an eyebrow, confused by what he heard.
"Maybe we need people like you, who don't sit back and watch all the bad things that happen around us... you can be that ideal that many need to see, haven't you thought about it?" He asked calmly as he stood up to take the bag and hang it on his shoulder. Looking at the subway exit, he saw that the rain had finally stopped to reveal the small rays of light from the full moon in the sky, "I hope we'll meet again..." walking to the exit, he left.
"…" in silence, Stain just kept his eyes fixed on the teenager, smiling lowly, he put his hand to his suit to take something out. "Hey!" With a shout, he stood up.
"…" the blonde stopped his step when he heard the call, extending his arm he caught a card that was thrown by Stain. Curious, he looked at the card to see an address or coordinates.
"Maybe there is a group of people like us; I only know there are three. At first, I would refuse to see them, but... it would be interesting to be part of something bigger. If you are interested, go in three weeks at midnight to that location." He spoke with a thin smile, looking directly at the teenager who only nodded his head to put on the hood of his jacket and leave through the dark streets of the city. Little by little, Stain's smile grew. He doesn't expect to meet someone like him; apparently, not only one person was worthy of being a true 'hero', "We'll see each other soon... Ronin."
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