The Dinner
Christmas morning, celebrating the cheer of Santa and Jesus. My parents still went with the route of Santa with the presents, I pretended to be gullible. Believing, that a jolly fat pedo, with no intentions, can come through the chimneys. Or in this case, sneak himself inside the window.
...
It was nearing evening when the guests arrived for the feast. My father announced this 5 hours prior to the event and catering arrived 1 hour to prepare the feast. Rows, and rows of holiday fruits; sushi's, gyoza's, steaming ramen, hotpot laid down on the tables.
First came, the Friends, mutual and respective friends from both sides of my parents. My mom's old Hero colleagues came and sat with her, chatting up the news of terrorist attacks near the Middle East to Europe. Turns out from the gossip, a radical group of Quirk supremacy rose up near Saudi Arabia. Wounding multiple civilians and causing unrest throughout.
My father invited 3 or 4 people, all in their field of studies in Quirk related studies. PhD, and whatnot. They were all a bit boring, except for a certain, Mr. David Shield. A young mind in the revolutionary field of hero items. Support items for heroes.
He was currently chatting up a storm with my father on the creation of Support Items. I was watching the news, the children all gathered and screaming in high pitched volumes at the stuff in my house. Half of them bragged that their house was better, bigger - we could've had a larger one, my dad just wanted a home.
...
A bit later at the clock ticking to 8:30, a disturbance occurred. Flying in, from the silver lined suit, with a cape flowing to the wind, a man with intensity and enthusiasm busted in through the door.
"ALL MIGHT, OPENING THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!!!" Everyone in the party started to fawn and gather towards the giant American. I sat by the T.V still watching to see if the gossips were true, a new Quirk Supremacy group in the Middle East to Europe.
The headline now, started with the gloom of the truth. A new group did arrive, followed the doom, 'A bunch of European, African, and Middle Eastern Heroes were dispatched and killed. The 3rd Spot in the British Hero Ranking was now empty. Mobbed and killed in an ambush. 25 more Heroes and civilians confirmed dead.'
The reporter was seeing tearing up at the statement. 'Must be in the teleprompter.' I thought. Chill, and frost started to flutter into the room, like a winter wind settling in. A man clad in a large suit walked inside. The man looked the same build as All Might. Hair was sky blue, his Grey eyes piercing through.
"I'm sorry for interrupting everyone, my name is Alexander Volkov, I am the No. 1 Pro Hero in Russia. I go by the name Ursa, and this is my family." He stated in English, three people walked behind him. The wife was about 5'9, orange hair that seemed to pulsate. The two children following behind him was a boy and a girl; the boy has sky blue hair spiked with ice at the tip; the girl had orange hair, glasses an attentive gaze.
"Alexander! You came," exclaimed my Father. How he knew the Hero named Ursa, I have no idea. He directed his kids to play, I wasn't able to tell, it was in Russian. They understood though, and started to wander to the couch.
I wasn't interested in the newcomers or the lousy children around me. Using their quirks to destroy several pottery in my home. Instead of stopping their wild mutts, the parents decided to give them more freedom, directing them outside to the patio and backyard. Our house may be small, but that backyard was large. So, large in fact that it had a miniature forest growing.
I still watched the news with delight, when I felt a presence near me. 'Russians.'
"Hello, how may I help you?" I said, my English was very good, my Father shoved the subject and Japanese to my face at the age of 3. Repeated muscle memory of talking in both languages helped.
"Happy late Birthday." The boy said, his eyes growing with happiness.
"My name is Aliana, that weird one is Ivan. What's yours?" the girl asked. Aliana and Ivan Volkov, people with overwhelmingly happy demeanor. Without looking to my side, I said, "Ogura Michi, pleasure to meet you."
"What is your quirk Ogura?" Aliana asked. 'Insensitive, too talkative.' I thought.
"That is quite rude to ask what someone's quirk is." I told them with a stern face.
"My sister didn't mean to be rude, to be fair she's just too friendly, here I can divulge mine. My quirk is Permafrost; I can freeze anything I want to, and control ice. The more I use my quirk though, hypothermia sets in..." He went on for about 12 minutes: yes, I counted the time; about how his Grandfather and Father had the same quirk and that they threw a celebration.
It was then, that the other one interrupted, "Well, my quirk is Archive. My finger becomes like a chip and when inserted into a device like a laptop, I can get the information that is in that device. So, I can also look at browsing history, and deleted Archives. But, I forget everything I learned in 10 minutes or my head would hurt from too much information..." Like her brother, she rambled, on and on.
To keep this conversation uninteresting and possibly short, "I don't have a quirk." turned off the T.V and left to eat some holiday dishes. Somehow, the twins didn't get the idea of not being interested to talk, as they kept on talking to me about what they do back in Russia.