Chapter One: Society

Picture a world in which your position in society was determined by mere probability and chance. Where each person is tested and assessed for their worth as they're born, and cast into the limelight should they hold some semblance of value for those in charge.

The chance to be born special, or with a quirk, was one factor that would lay evidence of your value. Another factor would be their intelligence, connections, or disposition as they grow. The system made it so that those without quirks should be grateful to be working in the sectors those with power didn't need or want to. In function, however, they were simply designated to pick the remainder of meat from the carcass of opportunity.

Quirks were both a benefit to the system while being its most apparent weakness. Those with promise and value governed public opinion held weight in government decisions and guarded the vulnerable. While the wretched were left to fight for what they felt owed. Fairness was lost in the battle of attrition between the heroes and villains. And the public would always follow the 'good guys' the media force-feeds down their throats.

The Heroes would use their power for good, sure. They saved citizens, assisted damsels in distress, and protected the weak. While the villains, either due to their circumstances or history, would use their power for their benefit. They did this often because they needed to, rather than wanted to. Some quirks came with flaws that almost guaranteed a person would become a villain, or just as easily pushed them to the path. But how would someone who had tendencies to foam at the mouth be permitted for the camera? Regardless of his ability to extinguish fires, he was simply used as publicity for someone of higher public opinion and camera value.

Opinions of the villains were of course, negative. No matter their situation, the media were usually enough for the public to despise them, even before their crimes were known. And as the heroes arrived, the public salivated in wait for the eventual fight between the groups. The media, government, and heroes grew richer with each article and story. While the poorer grew, well … poorer.

Such a difference in treatment between the two groups was enough to keep the perpetual conflict fuelled and those in charge slick with cash. It was entertainment, regardless of the source.

Despite everything, heroes were needed. The entire world ran and functioned under their protection and the profits kept economies saturated. Plus, people needed a cause to follow.

The system was kind to those blessed by genetic roulette. While those who were weren't, took for themselves.

Of course, there were exceptions to such a system, as would be the case for any worldwide regime. But that was a story for later.

-break-

Regardless of the circumstances, Arataki Akira (Last Name, First Name) wishes to become a hero. Each day, he finds himself situated directly beside the shattered television, attempting to consume the pixels with his eyes.

Each shot of a hero defeating a villain and saving a civilian was always captured perfectly and edited to be easily digestible for children. It's of no surprise how Akira grew unfathomably attached to the idea of being a hero.

"Look dear, he's doing it again." Misaki Arataki giggled to her husband as they sat watching the snow-white hair of their son attach itself to the screen under the static.

"You know why, I can hear his voice from here." Haruto Arataki replied, sighing dejectedly with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Our son has been lost to us once again." He expressed with dramatic flair, monitoring for movement from the boy.

"You don't have to sound so disappointment honey, it's Allmight." She snorted as she watched her husband's face threaten to shine scarlet. Her loose hand patted his upper arm in support.

"Akira, you know we're both heroes too, where is our attention?" Haruto articulated, loud enough for the bundle of excitement to break from his daze.

Both of his parents were indeed, pro-heroes. Their quirks led them to work together as sidekicks for another hero known as 'Adamant'. Their quirks were as follows;

…

Hero: Adamant. Quirk: Metal Arnament - Augment the body with any metal touched with the hand.

Arataki Haruto. Hero: Embero. Quirk: Touched by Fire - Control fire to heal allies and create barriers of flame.

Arataki Misaki. Hero: Mistressa. Quirk: Water Formation - Control water and use the gathered water to create weapons and armor.

…

"What do you mean, Dad? I've seen every fight you've ever been in!" Before a breath was made, he released another sentence, "I watch your fights on repeat while you're out!" The child had to squash a chuckle as he peeked towards the bright red face of his dad.

"What … of … of course I know that! I mean … what …" The man was beet red, the embarrassment causing his mind to stall in thought. "LOOK, he's about to fight the villain!" Like an owl, the boy snapped his head around and plastered his eyes back on the radiant square.

The diversion was successful, but it did not stop his wife from holding her belly as she heaved with laughter. And for Haruto, well, his face could only grow darker.

Diverting himself from the situation, Haruto took the picture frame on his left into his hands and glanced happily at the family portrait. Their family was certainly eye-catching.

Misaki was tall and elegant, with luscious blue hair that sat high in a ponytail above her head. Her tight white armored bodysuit, gloves, and goggles perfectly complimented her aquamarine eyes and black eyelashes. Even now at 34, she was still as beautiful as Haruto had ever known her to be.

Haruto himself was shorter than his wife and sported deep crimson eyes and hair. His hair, wild and untamed lay sequestered beneath the hood of his costume. Opposed to his wife's white outfit, his costume was entirely black. They were opposites in almost every way, but that made the pair only stronger in every sense of the word.

Their son, however, was somehow both a perfect combination and the complete contrary of the pair. His hair was entirely white and sat both straight and curly on his scalp. Similarly, his eyes were bleached with a similar white to his hair, his irises devoid of any color at all. He had the sharp features of his father and seemed to be growing taller by the day. Haruto smirked as the clean and neat boy in the picture now sat dirty and frizzled, endlessly inhaling the dispersed static of the tv.

"Akira, what quirk does the villain have?" Misaki asked in inquiry, not being able to see past the plume of white hair.

"The reporters said that he has the 'Tiger Teeth' quirk. It makes him able to bite through steel and concrete with ease. Allmight is having a tough time as he's directly going for civilians." Akira expressed evenly, almost mechanically as his full attention was being consumed.

"And why is he doing that do you think?" Haruto challenged his son, while the grins of the parents grew ever more prominent.

"Um… I guess it's an attempt to get Allmight to retreat and focus on evacuating the hostages, rather than the villain." Autopilot Akira answered swiftly.

"Good answer son, and now, how do you think Allmight should proceed?" Haruto asked again, still probing the decision-making skill of his son.

"Oh well … he should …" He thought for a moment. "Well, he should either call for support to clear the civilians or try to take the fight elsewhere. His power is far too restrained within a building with people in." The mechanical voice was gone for this answer, as it required more thought than he had expected it to.

"Correct, very good answer son!" Misaki leaned forwards to envelop the boy in a hug from behind, patting his bushy hair in the process. But before even a minute passed of Misaki flattening the plume of hair, she glimpsed at the screen and wailed in panic.

"EEEEEEEK! Akira get dressed now, school starts in 10 minutes!" The alarm caused all members of the family to race about the room. Haruto made the lunch while Misaki packed his bag, the precision, and timing of the pair were evident that this was not their first rodeo.

Akira was dressed in under a minute and flung into both his parent's arms. The trio embraced for a moment before the white-haired projectile fled out the door. His hair was combed back neatly into a low ponytail, solving both his ragged appearance and making him more aerodynamic.

As he ran from the door, he turned to his parents with his face pulling into a cheerful grin, "I'm off!"

"Have a good day!" Haruto shouted as he waved, his wife nestled into his arm. Misaki followed with, "We love you!" and within a couple of minutes, calmness returned once more to the home. The large house no longer felt as crowded.

The duo sank back into the couch and wrapped one another in their arms. They weren't on patrol for today. They could simply bask in the company of the other for the day.

"You think today's gonna be the day dear?" Misaki whispered into the ear of her husband, softening under his embrace. Haruto whispered back, "I don't know my love. I don't know."

"I've just a feeling honey." The wife responded, sinking to sleep in his arms. Each thought vanished as they returned to sleep.

-Break-

Akira made it to Entebira Middle School in time. When he reached the gates, he slowed down considerably and gradually walked through the grounds. The dozens of students encircling the building made his knees feel weak and unsteady. Akira has never been good in crowds of people, even now at thirteen, he felt highly uneasy about them being close to him. And with the initial adrenaline of running wearing from him, the worry of starting the new year began to dawn, festering in his mind as he trudged through the crowd.

He was now in Grade 8, which meant an entirely new classroom and roster of students. The thought made it harder to breathe than usual, his chest tight with worry. Regardless, he continued down the crowded hallways and walked under the dim yellow lights. Almost as though they could smell his fear, the older students thoroughly stared at him, searching for weakness. Which they probably found.

Even then, he reached class 2-D, his new designated classroom. Akira lingered outside for another student to enter, and followed in behind.

The room was entirely too loud. The vast majority of people inside were almost shouting their conversations as they spoke. It was horrible, for Akira.

Following his designated shield still, he examined the space for an empty seat without meeting the eyes of anyone. The only times his gaze strayed were to the students that very unmistakably bore quirks.

One such character, who was staring towards the horizon beyond the window, looked as though his entire head had been carved from pale-pink stone.

Another looked as though she had cables hanging beneath her ears. She was drawing … something in the book before herself. The cables swang as she moved her head to glance at her drawing, almost hypnotically.

Akira found a seat towards the back of the classroom and forced himself to introduce himself to his seat neighbors. Awkwardness be damned.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Arataki Akira." He spoke with a smile that he plastered over his quaking lip. The tone sounded wrong in his head, and he cringed as he spoke it aloud. The noise of the room drowned out the forced tone, much to his benefit.

"Hiyamoto Ayato, likewise." The recipient answered rather gloomily, also seemingly struggling with the change of the new grade. His maroon hair glistened as it caught the light as his head rested atop his forearms.

Without prompting, Akira felt a tug on his shirt. Following the origin, his other neighbor was looking towards him. Now facing him dead on, something screamed 'delinquent' to Akira.

'Please don't be a delinquent, please don't be a delinquent, please don't…'

"Nice to meet you, Arataki, do you happen to be good at maths?" The golden-haired student inquired with an inclination of his head, his gaze filled with hope.

"I'm alright at maths, why do you ask … ?" Akira responded politely, indicating with his hands that he didn't know the name of the student.

"Sorry dude, Kaminari Denki, pleased to meet you." The roughly spoken boy smiled apologetically, but his gaze still hung waiting for an answer.

"Don't even think about it this year, Zappy." Spoke a firm voice from ahead of the pair. The source was the girl who had cables dangling from her ears. Her accusatory finger pointed to Denki as she faced the recipient.

'Zappy? Is that a nickname? Akira pondered, Surely someone with that nickname wouldn't be problematic. Surely. Right?' Unknowing to Akira, the silent question would soon be answered by the incoming tone from his golden-haired neighbor.

"Shaddup, Jiro, why do you always have to get involved anyway?" Irritated, Kaminari snapped in retaliation. Some students paid the alteration no mind, almost as though this was an entirely too familiar occurrence.

'Please no, don't be a common occurrence, please leave me in peace.' Akira begged whoever was listening, praying for the almighty to remove him from this place.

A subtle look of pity came from a student to his left, and that was enough for Akira to plot an escape. The classroom was already too new, and his seat neighbors would only bring more attention to himself. But he wouldn't be able to leave without everyone seeing him do it. It would simply be embarrassing.

Almost as though his prayers were heard, the teacher soon arrived and slapped the chalkboard behind himself with a ruler.

"Quieten down you lot!" He only continued when the classroom was ushered to silence, "My name is Honiya Akeya." His name was written large on the board, "I've got much to teach you, but for now, introductions! Front to back, left to right, stand up and introduce yourself." The grizzled grey teacher spoke as though he was already exhausted with his new class. Not that Akira blamed him.

Akira learned the names of each of the students that stood, but he was especially interested in the few that had quirks. As most others were.

The student that resembled a statue, stood and held up a piece of paper. Words were intricately drawn onto the paper with a black pen. He held it still as a helpful student beside him read it out for all to hear.

"Koda Koji, my quirk is known as 'Anivoice', which means I can speak to all animals. I love nature."

'Simple enough. I guess his drawback from being able to speak to animals is that he cannot speak normally. But why does his head look like a stone?' Akira contemplated as he drew a rough sketch of the student as he sat. It was a frequent habit, that often resulted in entire notebooks being filled with multiple heroes and villains he read and caught on the news.

He had always been excellent at drawing and loved to include information about their quirks with each image he made. His mother frequently joked that he should become an artist, which didn't ring entirely too bad. A shame that being a hero was far too appealing.

The next introduction he paid attention to was the girl with the cabled ears. "Jiro Kyoka, I love listening to music and playing the guitar. My quirk is 'Earphone-Jack', and I want to go to UA!" She sat down after the fast-spoken opening, looking shy under the gazes of the others.

As he began sketching her, Akira took particular notice of the way the jacks moved as though there was wind in the room. Combined with her pale skin and onyx bob-cut hairstyle, she presented herself as unique and distinctive.

Akira was broken from his thoughts as the student to his left introduced himself, far too loudly.

"Kaminari Denji, I will become a pro-hero and sway the hearts of all using my 'Electrification' quirk!" The outburst from the sharped featured boy was shortly followed by the crackling of live electricity that danced between his pale fingertips.

Various sounds of excitement resounded from the astonished onlookers in the class, being thoroughly unable to suppress their astonishment.

"KAMINARI, NOT IN THE CLASSROOM." Akeya scolded the standing student, far louder than the electricity had been. The rant of anger persisted for minutes until Kaminari crumpled into his chair in defeat.

Akira stood up next and seized a second to collect himself. The dozens of eyes bore into his own. He inhaled, "Arataki Akira, I love to learn about quirks. My personal goal is to become a hero to help those in need." Exhaling, he attempted to sit but the teacher spoke faster than gravity would allow.

"And what of your quirk?" He examined with a lifted eyebrow.

"My quirk has not yet manifested, teacher." The polite tone Akira used was wholly tainted by a distinctive trace of disappointment.

"Ah… I understand, sorry for that young …" He looked to a sheet below himself, "Arataki". He attempted to clarify, "I did not mean to offend … "

Akira waved the teacher off before he could continue, "Not to worry teacher, It's but a matter of time." He smiled politely despite the embarrassment burning in his gut.

Akeya weakly smiled at the declaration and inclined his head with affirmation. Now comprehending that he was quirkless, the question burrowed its way into the head of the teacher, 'Is he an albino, then?'

The introductions soon finished and the classes began. English came first and Akira could not help but lose his entire concentration on the subject. His attention was extraordinarily easy to obtain, but far harder to keep. And including the ordeal from earlier, he simply wanted to hide somewhere deep underground, far from the class.

To his left, Kaminari was similarly spacing out from the lesson, the student similarly not wanting to be there. Mustering what courage Akira had left to spare, he leaned over and spoke to the boy, "Kaminari, so what can your electricity do?" The intrigue was far too beguiling for him not to ask.

"Ah, you've come to attempt to pry my secrets have you, Arataki?" Kaminari gradually turned his head and gazed with squinted eyes and an impassive look.

"No no, I just wanted…" Akira inflated red as he fumbled for an excuse. Truthfully, that was exactly what he was trying to do.

"Kidding dude, of course! I've been looking for an excuse to show off my greatness!" Kaminari chuckled, now also leaning over.

The two spoke in near whispers as Kaminari spoke of his quirk and its applications. Essentially, he could coat himself in electricity and manipulate it to an extent through the air. It was a versatile quirk that could be used in an abundance of ways and situations.

Akira filled out his notepad as the two chattered throughout the day, and sat together in the canteen. Others would've approached, but they couldn't find a way to interject into their conversation. They spoke of the strengths and weaknesses of his quirk, and the potential of Akira's own.

The day ended soon enough, and the pair waltzed out of the gates of the school, heading down the hill in the direction of their homes. Kaminari, as he spoke to Akira, had finally pieced together who his parents were and exclaimed as he suddenly stood still.

"Your parents are THE Hot Tide!" His finger was outstretched in accusation, while Akira smiled as his friend has finally realized.

Akira grinned widely as he repeated the exclamation, "That's right, THE Hot Tide!"

"Dude, that's so unfair, your quirk is going to be ridiculous no matter what!" He hung his head in mock exhaustion as they began striding again.

"The white-haired student truthfully murmured, almost without volume, "I really can't wait. I'm hoping it's only a matter of time now."

Kaminari didn't hear, and in a seemingly rare moment of clarity, loudly declared to the boy beside himself. "Wait, that means if you have either of their quirks, your elements would conduct my electricity, we'd team up perfectly!"

The mood was infectious as Akira's mood immediately simulated his friend's."Yeah! Water and electricity would conduct amazingly regardless, while electricity and fire would generate … plasma I think!" Akira speculated as to the applications as he thought aloud.

"We'd be so overpowered. I …" His statement was stopped as the pair reached a crossroads, they each turned in a different direction to the other. The pair laughed awkwardly, until Kaminari continued speaking, "Looks like we'll continue this tomorrow young snowflake."

"Oh, how so original, Goldilocks." The now-dubbed snowflake of the pair called as he strode in the direction of his home, waving to his new friend.

"Cliche, unoriginal, overused. Try harder next time!" Kaminari all but shouted as he walked in the opposite direction, waving in return.

Akira wouldn't be alone this year, of that he was sure. The golden hedgehog seemed friendly and they had similar interests. He was funny also, if not overly dramatic and loud. He'd have to adapt, but Akira had made a friend.

Lost in thought, Akira listlessly gazed into the distance as walked, before he felt the faintest of drips down the back of his black uniform blazer. After which, almost unnaturally fast rain began to plummet from the ominously bleak clouds overhead. Akira walked faster, but he was stopped by a familiar voice behind him.

"ARATAKI!"

Looking behind, Akira caught the face of his new friend, frantically waving some distance away. Akira jogged to him as the water seeped into his shoes, the water now pooling at his heel as he ran.

Akira spoke the first thing that came to mind, "What's going on?" The volume loudly muffled under the rain welting against the bare pavement.

"Look here, quick!"

Akira looked toward the source of his awe. Behind the soaking glass pane of an electronic store, a stationary television was brimming with color. The screen showed a news channel that both of the pair were familiar with. 3TV. The individuals specifically on the news though, Akira was especially familiar with. Kaminari would soon dispel any doubt Akira held over who they were.

"It's your parents, look how awesome they are!" Kaminari expressed breathlessly, "We were just talking about them, now they're on here! How ironic is that! I had to show you!"

Through grit teeth, Akira bluntly informed his friend, "This is live."

"Is it? Oh yeah, the sign in the corner." Kaminari was confused as to why that mattered until realization hit him. "Oh … shit." He suddenly felt a fraction of the fear that Akira felt and was now going through.

In the upper-left corner of the immaculate screen of the television, an ominous timer was currently counting how long they had been live.

13:05

13:06

13...

The two stood in stillness as they watched his parents battle the villain in close combat. The live reporter updated the public with every single detail.

Misaki used her quirk to expand and contract the water within the room to keep the villain on his toes. To evade, the villain dashed around the room in an outwardly hopeless fashion, and yet no wave struck him. Akira saw how heavily Mikasi was panting under the exertion.

"An excellent use of the water by Mistressa, the villain can only evade and escape under the barrage of her powerful waves!"

With the villain in his line of fire, Haruto took the chance to expel a small wall of flames that hit the villain direct in the chest. The villain withdrew further into the warehouse and hid near a green metallic container.

Surprising the pair, the villain sprang from the shadows and directed a roundhouse kick perfectly into the side of Misaki. The force caused her body to soar through the air into the ground.

"The villain has managed to wound Mistressa again! But not to worry, Embero has the healing power of his flames to keep her fightin' fit!"

Haruto arrived at her side and crouched beside his wife. Within seconds, he coached his flames to surround her. Quickly, her body was shrouded by a vague cocoon of shimmering orange wisps. To stall for time as she healed, Haruto erected a ring of flames to encircle the pair, stopping the villain from approaching as she healed.

This worked for a few seconds. But the villain, with little difficulty, easily vaulted over the barrier before lacerating his jagged blade along the back of the husband as he got close. As Haruto recoiled in surprise, the villain turned in the air and directed an outlandish kick to his head. He was flung down outside the flames, further into the warehouse.

As the camera repositioned, the new angle permitted the audience to see how much blood was seeping through the hero's gray bodysuit as it zoomed. The villain pursued his limp body as it clashed with the ground. And even despite that, Haruto got to his feet.

'Where is the backup?'

"Information has just been released that this villain is known to the agency as Mastero, the A-ranked villain! His quirk 'Instinctive' explains why our heroes can't keep up! His quirk causes his body to rely on his natural, far faster reactions and innate strength! Many heroes would struggle in their position!"

'So why isn't anyone helping?'

The villain in question engaged in hand-to-hand combat with Haruto. The husband besmeared flames onto his quivering fists that never found their target. With each miss, the villain plunged an overhead hit into his head, knocking him out of balance. The most he could do was keep his hands up.

An opportunity arrived as the villain missed the connection on his punch. In that second, Haruto scrambled backward and plunged a fireball toward the villain. It was easily dodged but it gave Haruto time to begin hiding in the darkness of the warehouse. His wife was safe for now, for his flames made sure of that. Haruto needed the time to dress his injuries.

The villain was one step ahead. He glanced around the building in each direction until he found the target, an isolated camera that hung seemingly aimlessly in the air. It had no purpose to be there, but it was. Mastero was no idiot, the positioning of the camera simply meant the cameramen were capturing every shot of the wounded hero.

"…move the camera." Despite the muffled tone, the voice still reached the microphone through the television.

Similar to a trained bloodhound, the villain headed directly beneath the device, just before he lunged into the darkness. Seconds later, Haruto was flung into the light, the villain standing atop his bare chest.

Without resistance, the villain stomped directly on the father's ribs, bent forwards, and seized Haruto by the throat. Haruto was now poised in the air, and with his prey in his grasp, Mastero coiled his free hand and propelled it into the abdomen of the husband. The repeated punches landed over and over again, echoing like a butcher tenderizing beef.

'Why is the camera still on?'

'Why is this still recorded?'

'WHERE IS THE BACKUP?'

Akira felt his insides twist with each hit, and yet they did not stop. Without learning of it, his knees buckled and collapsed. Still, he did not look away.

"The pair are in dire need of backup now, the villain has the upper hand and our heroes are unable to do a thing." A few seconds passed, "I SAID KEEP RECORDING!"

Akira watched as the villain forced his entire forearm into the abdomen of his father, and watched as the crimson ichor slapped heavily against the floor below. The villain's hand tore through to the other side of the victim's body, his fingers now wiggling in the open air.

Unrevealed as to when, but the flames enveloping Misaki were completely dissipated. Her face was pulled into gradual horror as watched the fingers dance in the air. The mouth of his mother opened far further than it should, and her eyes couldn't have peeled as wide. It was frightening.

With a scoff in her direction, the villain flung the corpse from his hand onto the ground. Like you would rid yourself of dust on your clothing.

Even while the corpse lay twisted and pooling, the camera remained steady and recording.

Even as Misaki screamed and pounced against the villain, the cameras did not cease with the intricate angles and viewpoints.

Her face was torn as her body lay battered beneath the rusty blade. Her pale abdomen was pierced time and time again as the villain took pleasure in seeing the blood congeal on her skin.

"KEEP RECORDING! BACKUP HAS ALMOST ARRIVED!"

Despite Kaminari pounding his shoulders and yelling at him violently, Akira couldn't tear his eyes from the screen. Regardless of the villain now essentially playing with their corpses, he watched on. He watched the backup heroes arrive and subdue the villain.

He saw how the medical team carried their lifeless bodies and watched how their heads rolled on their necks without any resistance. He watched how the heroes, solemn face and glassy-eyed, covered their bodies and faces with white tarps and covers. Everything was moving at a far slower pace than it should, while everything he was seeing felt wrong.

It wasn't until the cameras were abruptly shut off did he fall unconscious.

[Why does the rain feel lighter, the less you have to live for?]