Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So…” Akira mused as they took in the building they’d worked for weeks to set up, “Leblanc. The White. It’s finally done, Dad… right?”

“Should be. Good work, kid.” 

The statement was only so accurate. Akira barely had to do any of the work despite insisting he help out in some way. Such was life as the son of the owner.

But it wasn’t like there weren’t any perks. A coffee shop was the perfect place to settle down when not fighting some troublemaker or another, as Sojiro planned to do.

In his physicist days (which weren’t too long ago; it had only been about half a year since he’d retired), Sojiro Sakura had accidentally been doused in a vat’s worth of chemicals during a freak earthquake that destroyed the facility he worked in. It was the day he’d been separated from the woman he liked, Shisseki Wakaba, and the day he’d gained what were essentially superpowers. She was one of the few coworkers that had mysteriously gone missing in the aftermath, and Sojiro knew something was fishy, but had no idea what.

In order to hide said powers (and protect him and his adoptive son Akira), Sojiro had retired not long after to evade any suspicion. It was only so long later when Akira found out about said powers. Grateful to Sojiro for getting him away from his neglectful parents, the young man swore himself to secrecy.

In turn, Akira offered to help with Sojiro’s upcoming café business while he was out doing regular superhero things. Even if things got pretty lonely when he was away, it was pretty easy for him to simply turn on the news and see his old man doing his thing on camera. Like his dad, Akira considered it important to keep up with the news, but they both knew the news wasn’t always fun or entertaining… with all the wrongdoing in the world, it seldom was.

The first day of business went pretty well. Many were dismayed to see a limited menu of coffee, curry and a few different pastries courtesy of Akira, but realistically, that was all the two of them knew how to make at restaurant-level quality. Thus, aside from his Education classes with Professor Kawakami, Akira was taking electives at university to learn how to make more things, though.

Sojiro Sakura, ladies, gentlemen and other fancy folks: blessed with the power to smash a meteor to pieces in one punch, but also the ability to burn water if it had ramen in it.

That night, however, Sojiro suited up for the first time since he’d made his suit. The suit wasn’t all thin or revealing spandex like most stereotypical superheroes you saw in cartoons (both men had always hated that concept), but given that he had heavily-increased durability, muscles thick as pigskin, and reflexes enhanced, there wasn’t much extra protection needed anyways.

Sneaking out through the fire escape from their home/workplace, Surhomme prepared to make his first appearance fighting crime somewhere in the city. Akira had offered to be his guy in the chair, but Surhomme had requested (read: begged) he not put himself in any danger.

The police scanners he’d snatched and built into his wrist were awfully quiet at this time of night. But sometimes waiting was part of the job. He knew Akira hated slow news days. Of all the powers he could’ve gotten, couldn’t one of them have been the ability to make time go by slightly faster?

It took way longer than back home for the scanners to start beeping, but when it did, a smile appeared on his face.

A robbery was going on in Kichijoji. 

It was showtime.

But something happened on the way there that the man in the supersuit didn’t expect to encounter. Before he even got there, the scanner started beeping.

“G.G.’s already here, and everyone else we need arrived.”

Who was G.G.? A close friend? A villain? A codename for some kind of weapon? Surhomme decided this was worth looking into, but the location was a rather long distance away even with extra speed and the ability to float in midair for a few seconds. By the time he was within casing distance, even the police cars had all filed out.

“I was late, huh… damn it.” Quietly, he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. “So much for a big debut…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so worried,” a young voice snarled from him, “I’m still around if you came looking for a butt-kicking.”

“If I knew it was going to take this long, I would’ve made some popcorn or something…” Akira thought out loud as the TV went on about some kind of court case or school budgets or whatever.

He got up from his seat to make popcorn, but before he could take so much as another step, the Breaking News jingle he’d grown familiar with ever since he’d moved to Tokyo reached his ears like a kid hearing the ice cream truck. “Damn it… nice timing, Dad.”

Sitting back down, Akira flinched at the scene being reported in front of him.

While there was in fact a crime going on, and someone was fighting said crime, it wasn’t the disguised form of the man who raised him.

“Who’s she…?” Akira made a run for his laptop.

Surhomme wasn’t able to stop himself from gaping at the girl (not a woman , a girl) who stood in front of him in what he hoped was a superheroine’s outfit and not that of a supervillainess.

Above light-green boots, slightly darker green lines formed rigid patterns across a thin black suit. Her head was the only thing not covered by the suit, but her face was obscured by thick black goggles, whereas her neck was covered by green and black headphones. She also had orange hair in two big space buns that almost seemed styled after Destinyland’s mascot, Kismita the Mole.

“What do you want in my city?” the girl started before he could close his mouth, “I just got off a fight with six wise-guys with pistols and knives. I can kick your ass too, Spandex!”

“Your city?” Surhomme parroted almost dumbly. Dispelling his confusion, he asked, “Who are you, anyway?”

“Pretty sure I’m about to be your newest archenemy!” the girl teased in a smugly innocent tone before raising her fists.

“Woah, now,” Surhomme put his hands up, “I don’t want to fight. Geez… I meant a name or something…”

The girl in green stopped and squinted at him. “... you must be really new to Tokyo.”

Seemed like this girl wouldn’t be giving him any answers anytime soon. Time to pry the truth out himself. “So let me get this straight… you, kid, are the local hero… er, heroine around this city?”

“What’s it to you?” she retorted snappily.

“No offense, but whose idea was it to make you-”

Time seemed to slow down for Surhomme as someone in a mask jumped up from a ladder to the roof they were sitting on, a knife in hand poised to stab her. Reacting right on time, he rushed forward, swooped past the girl, and punched the attacker in his gut, sending him careening to the roof floor below them.

“Oh… well, I guess I owe you one now.”

“You’re not going to-”

“Act all buddy-buddy with you? Hell no! I’ve got other obligations to worry about!”

More goons rushed towards them, clearly on the same team as the first guy. Before the girl could leave, she and Surhomme found themselves surrounded. “... damn it.” Staring the attackers down, she loudly demanded, “What do you guys want?”

“You took some of our boys out and got ‘em locked up,” one of them responded, brandishing a nail bat, “This is just recompense!”

Surhomme whistled. “You did all that on your own?!” 

“I told you this already,” the girl deadpanned, “T.L.D.R.: Let’s just say these guys kinda don’t like me.”

That’s when one of the attackers took note of him. “Awww… did you bring your daddy too?”

While the girl snapped He’s not my dad!, Surhomme couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in concern. How young was this kid?

“He isn’t?” another mook snickered, “Hah! I didn’t realize the renowned Green Genius needed a babysitter!”

“Wha… who are you calling a babysitter?” God, he hoped Akira wasn’t able to hear that from the TV. “Alright… if I’m the babysitter, let’s put you guys to bed.” Faster than anyone could react, he was in front of the smallest hoodlum. A well-practiced punch sent the guy sprawling out, instantly knocked unconscious. Turning to the other five, Surhomme sneered, “Anyone else want to do this the hard way?”

“We really need to work on your comebacks…” the girl the crooks called Green Genius moaned, “Here, old man - let me show you how it’s done.” She started tapping a bunch of random spots on the sleeve of her costume, and a bunch of lights lit up as she touched them. That energy began to surround her whole hand and arm, and in a style something straight from Teenyboppers, she fired green lasers at the assassins. Unfortunately, the seemingly-magical attacks were ostentatiously harmless on them. 

The goons burst out laughing. “What? Thought we didn’t learn from last time?”

“How is that helping?” Surhomme groaned.

“Nothing to disable… damn it!”

“Disable?!”

Green sighed in disgust, “Look, I don’t have time to explain my backstory and powers right now, OK? Just know that my powers don’t work right now!”

“Just let me take care of this, OK?” Surhomme offered.

“I can defend myself and fight, y’know,” Green deadpanned, “I just don’t have any useful powers against these jackasses.”

“I’ll just go with it.” As Surhomme raised his fists, he mostly hoped she wouldn’t get in the way, “Can you keep up, kid?”

“Slightly more than you’d expect, I guess.” Her tone shifted to a more melancholy one for a brief moment, but Surhomme didn’t get to think about it much before their foes charged.

On the bright side, he and this Green Genius girl cleaned the mooks up in record time. Seeing as they’d been aiming for her, Surhomme let Green Genius show him what she was capable of. From what he could tell as they fought off the attackers, she definitely wasn’t as strong as him, but she was still far stronger than any average human her age. Her punches knocked one goon unconscious with ease, and she swiftly moved to another and kicked them in the leg; it wasn’t with enough force to break anything, but she didn’t seem to suffer any recoil, either. Given the way she threw said punches out with no rhyme or purpose, though, it became clear to Surhomme that she lacked any actual training.

All the way, however, he had her six covered, taking care of any mooks who attempted to make an easier target of her. In less than 20 minutes, the police were in the process of arresting the goons.

“Well, I can’t say that went as smoothly as I usually do things…” Surhomme said as he wiped some rubble off of his shoulder. When he turned around to look at how his new acquaintance was cleaning things up, however, she was in the process of flying the coop. “Already going?” he called after her.

“Sorry, old man,” she called back, “I’d love to stay and chat about what you can do and all, but I seriously need to get some shut-eye.” She tapped some buttons on her arm again, and in green pixelated static, she faded out of the scene.

Once he gave a statement and made sure the attackers were in for a night’s stay in prison, Surhomme returned home.

The moment Akira and him saw each other, they both near-yelled, “WHO WAS THAT?!” before promptly covering their mouths in the hopes that nobody had heard them being that loud. 

After a brief moment to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard, the two went back and forth discussing the unexpected newcomer.

“How was I supposed to know there was another superhero here?!”

“How was I supposed to know there was another superhero at all?!”

Akira caught his breath and took a few more deep ones for the sake of calming down. Sojiro - who had taken off his suit before he saw Akira - followed suit… pun not intended.

“Okay…” Sojiro mused once they’d done so, “so clearly someone else had the same idea or scenario or whatever that we’re in right now…”

“And she looked so young, too…” Akira thought out loud. “If you two are gonna keep running into each other whenever there’s trouble, you should probably try to get on her good side.”

“Come on, it’s not like we know her secret identity or something,” Sojiro facepalmed.

“Do you remember when the original design you suggested for your mask just covered your eyes, but then I changed it to cover your entire head?” Where was he going with this? “Do you remember why I did that?”

“To cover up my receding hairline?” Sojiro sarcastically guessed.

“Exactly- wait, no!” Akira shook his head to rid his mind of that comment. “What I’m trying to say is, unless you got some kind of quantum-vision-manipulation-thingy or something like that to prevent people from recognizing you, people are going to recognize your hairstyle before a lot of other things!”

Sojiro’s eyes widened. “She didn’t have that…”

“All I’m saying is that it’d be pretty easy to spot some orange hair in a crowd,” his son quipped, “If no one in this city has figured out who she is yet, she either locks herself up in a bunker when she leaves and does homeschooling there, or this entire city is full of idiots.”

“No, there has to be a catch. It can’t be that easy.”

“Well, how about we see how it goes next time you meet?”

“I just hope she’s nicer as a civilian…” Sojiro groaned, “But please, let’s sleep on this for once.”

“Is mind-reading one of your powers?” Akira joked, placing his hand on his forehead.

“If it was, that’d make this situation a whole lot easier.” As if by instinct, Sojiro ruffled Akira’s fluffy raven-black hair before he went up to his room.

Things were going to be far more different than they thought… not that Sojiro wasn’t expecting the chaos to begin with.

The next day, Akira had class, yet his mind still couldn’t get into Average Civilian Mode™ with how his thoughts raced about the mysterious Green Genius from last night.

He managed to shake his concerns away enough to listen to the end of Professor Kawakami’s lecture. He had gotten up to leave, he froze in place when he heard her call after him. “Akira, can I talk to you for a moment?” This was it - he was too distracted and his grades were suffering because of it. 

Catastrophizing was a bad habit of his, developed for years unbridled part due to him having autism and ADHD (though his biological parents would deny it to everyone) and part due to said shitty progenitor and progenitrix. Sojiro had been a family friend (the Amamiyas and Sojiro weren’t friends anymore, and Akira didn’t consider them family, either), and one of Akira’s few regrets in life was that he didn’t remember their first meeting better. They all lived near each other, so Akira and the older man had bonded strongly in the times when Akira waited for his parents to get home from work. Sojiro had always promised Akira he had a second home with him if he ever needed it, and as Akira became a teenager, he found himself staying over at Mr. Sakura’s more and more.

It all came to a head when he had a mental meltdown in his second year of highschool. His teachers had been understanding, but the jackass who had incited it had ratted him out to Risa and Itsuki. Said bastards had berated him harshly, calling him things ranging from a two-year old mentally to a horrid word beginning with R. 

Finally, Akira had enough. In the middle of their haranguing, he left and beelined for the kindly Mr. Sakura, who more than angrily called in a favor or two with his government buddies to ensure the Amamiyas not only lost custody of Akira but wouldn’t see the light of day for almost two more decades.

It took Akira until his third year of high-school for Sojiro to convince him to attend therapy with Dr. Takemi every Saturday, but he eventually gave it a try and found himself able to trust in the woman. The meds he now took really helped, too.

After two semesters of knowing him, Professor Kawakami easily noticed his nervous, pessimistic body language. She’d been updated on his habits, after all, and the two often talked before and after class so he could gain the things he needed for his accommodations. “Don’t worry,” she thus assured him, “I promise it’s not anything bad. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Akira took a deep breath before he approached her desk. “I know things have been hard for you lately, what with all the moving and such,” Kawakami-san began, “but there’s a special project I think you would excel in. This university does tutoring programs with high-schools and middle-schools here in Tokyo, and we help students on both extremes of projected success scales - those with high grades, to make sure they’re ready for university, and those with low grades to make sure they can attend one. We also help… troubled students as well. At one of the local high-schools here in Tokyo, there’s been a certain few students who've been… struggling a lot. While I can’t say a lot right now without you accepting the offer, we deemed you the best fit out of all the Education majors in this year’s program for one of them.”

“What makes me the best fit for them?” Akira asked innocently.

She handed him a document file. “Look this over and tell me if you’d be willing to tutor her as soon as you have a certain answer. Don’t show it to anyone, or there could be legal trouble for you and me. This would look really good on your resume when applying to teaching jobs, and I see a lot of promise in you.”

That night, Akira looked over the file. The kid in question, despite enjoying being at school, was non-confrontational in spite of being bullied, and made barely-passing grades. The next day after class, he told Kawakami he would gladly help tutor Isshiki Futaba.

Chapter Text

When Akira stepped into Big Bang Burger that Friday afternoon for his first meeting with his first student, he placed an order before looking around for the girl that matched the photo he was given. 

Long black hair, circle-frame glasses, brown eyes- ah, there she was. A girl who met the description in the corner of the restaurant, nonchalantly munching on some fries while checking her phone.

The girl didn’t even react when he approached her and softly greeted, “Hi there.” No response. “... you are Isshiki Futaba, right?”

“... mhm.”

He nodded quickly. “Nice to meet you, then. I’m Sakura Akira. I’m told you needed help with your studi-”

“Don’t bother.”

Akira wanted to flinch or yelp at the cold tone, but he sensed this was the beginning of getting her to open up. “Why shouldn’t I?” he asked.

The words that came from Isshiki-chan ought to be a horror to hear from any child. “May as well drive you away now before you leave on your own. I’ve never needed your help, anyway.”

“I’m… not the first, am I?” Akira guessed.

“Number four, to be precise. Good luck, number four. You’ll need it with a screwup like me.”

“If you want to talk about it…” Akira asked, “What are these screwups?”

Isshiki scoffed. “What do you care?”

“Because…” He took a second to come up with the right words to say. “Because I don’t want to make the same mistakes. I don’t know what… Tutors Number One through Three did right or wrong, but I can’t figure that out without you meeting me halfway.”

Isshiki raised an eyebrow. “... I’ll humor you, Number Four. But I want you to listen to me when I tell you what I’m struggling with and all, okay?”

“That’s part of the idea,” Akira shrugged. Extending a hand out, he asked, “So… do we have a deal?”

Isshiki stared him down for about a quarter-minute before she took his hand and shook it. “Don’t let me down, please.”

The two set about examining Futaba’s notes and homework. As the two interacted and he guided her through it, Akira found Futaba already had the information answers down pat, but she still stared unhappily at the same questions she already proved she knew the answers to.

“Is something wrong?” he asked at one point, seeing her scowl at her Chemistry homework.

“They want me to show my work,” Futaba said in a mocking tone, “I already did all of it in my head! Is that not good enough for them?” Akira opened his mouth to speak, but Futaba continued, “Let me guess: It’s just what you have to do. They want to make sure you’re not cheating. I’ve heard it a million times already, and I get its importance, but it’s so aggravating!”

But instead of any of that, Akira put a hand to his forehead and groaned. “Geez, that brings back some terrible memories…”

Isshiki stared at him like two more eyes had popped out above his current pair. “You…?!”

“Yeah, I hated it just as much as you do!” Akira chuckled, “My folks didn’t give half a darn whenever I complained, and I refuse to pretend as if your frustration isn't valid! ND problems, I sup-”

And in one fluid motion, Akira got the feeling that he’d ruined everything. “... oh, no. Isshiki-chan, I’m so sor-”

“Never mind all that,” Isshiki’s eyes were wide open, but not with the same uncomfortableness as before. “… sorry, but what was it you just said?” Her eyes almost sparkled as she asked, “Are you on the spectrum, too?” Before Akira could recover from the suddenness of her admission, she gave him a suspicious look. “… or are you just trying to relate to me? Someone probably told you about it already…”

Akira couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from his mouth. “I don’t have a card, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“God, that would be useful.” Clearly, Isshiki was now beginning to relax around him.

“Tell me about it…” Akira chuckled, before softening. “So… are we okay about me oversharing earlier?”

“I couldn’t care less. Nobody opens up to me, so it’s nice to feel trusted ou-” She began to cough, suddenly, but she was back to normal within seconds. “Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I should get to know you if we’re going to be doing something like this often,” Akira shrugged.

“Right…” Isshiki seemed bummed out all over again. “Well… at least it’ll be with somebody who understands me better than the last three jerks.”

“On that note…” Akira recalled, “I should probably pay for your meal. How much did it cost you?”

“Wait, you’re gonna pay?” Isshiki questioned dubiously, “I-I already paid for my stuff!”

“Then let me pay it back to you. It’s no damage to me, I promise you. You should go spend that money on something else where you aren’t… you know… obligated to go, even after school.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“Nah… I’m thanking you, if anything.”

As he handed Isshiki the amount he’d seen on her receipt, Isshiki timidly stuttered, “Thank me… what for?”

Akira just smiled. “For giving Number Four a chance.” And with that, he left.

Futaba watched him go, before a feeling of melancholy overtook her. Her phone rang with a reminder for something starting in about half an hour, so she began making her way to an art gallery in Ueno with a ticket her sole friend (and she used that term sparingly) had given her for the youth gallery that night. “The world doesn’t deserve you, Sakura Akira… least of all someone like me.”

Akira walked into Leblanc at nightfall. He found Sojiro sweeping the floors of the café. “Oh, you’re back,” he greeted, “How did the whole tutor thing go?”

“She wasn’t exactly happy to meet me at first, but I think she warmed up to me in the end,” Akira shrugged.

“Heh, I always knew you’d be good with kids,” his dad chuckled. “Of course, that’ll be proven once I become a grandpa or something. Shame the kid won’t get superpowers like me, but… well, I guess my genes don’t hold water there.”

“Dad! Stop being weird about your abilities!”

Sojiro merely smirked. “That’s my thing, isn’t it?”

As if on cue, Sojiro’s phone rang with an alarm he’d programmed to tell him about any attacks from his police scanner. Picking up the communication servers, he overheard, “Four unidentified people are attacking patrons and stealing paintings at Ueno Art Museum. They're all of the same build, and their outfits are all different colors but otherwise the same!”

“The art museum… in Ueno…” Sojiro muttered as he hurried upstairs to get dressed for the occasion. “How far is that?” he yelled to Akira.

“It’s a while away, so go now before it’s too late!” Akira hollered back. Before Surhomme headed out through their secret entrance, though, Akira asked, “If you see Green Genius again, tell me everything the cameras don’t catch, ok?”

“I promise.”

Green Genius wasn’t sure whether or not the fact she always seemed to be there when trouble started was a good thing or a bad thing.

Probably both. It was good because she didn’t need to spend as much energy teleporting anywhere extra far, but there were also the downsides of an increased risk of being found, caught and/or exposed. 

Couldn’t she spend any time with her only friend without something going horribly wrong? This was Yusuke’s first exhibition where all his works were stated completely as his own, without any mention of his teacher and guardian, Madarame Ichiryusai. Madarame was once a very famous figure in Japan’s art world, but had eventually faded into near-obscurity due to the passage of time. Most of that which he was remembered for nowadays was when an art student he’d helped in the past would occasionally mention or thank him if they made it big.

In any case, she got him the hell away from what she thought might be magic clones (what was her life, Naruto?) and shoved him into a storage closet before finding a hidden, camera-less place to transform.

Even if it was a job she had to do, the feeling of transforming never got old. Especially when her hair was flowing in the magical wind to turn its signature orange color. She always loved running her hands through it during that part, even if it wasn’t required for the transformation process. It was soothing. And the suit? On the outside, it looked like something that most women would want to take off the moment they got home, but on the inside, it was the softest thing in the world. It was like fighting crime in pajamas but she still looked cool. All of the various scanners and icons coming from her mask were eye-candy and red herrings. It was like the whole thing was designed to be as euphoric as possible to wear for her.

But of course, that emotional high had to come to an end eventually. She had a job to do. Yes, she wasted an entire precious minute of city-saving time with that cliché transformation sequence, but damn it, it was too good not to press the skip button on. What was she doing with her life?

Right. Atoning for her sins.

She rushed out into the din of the art gallery that would become a battlefield. Oh, this was going to be an expensive fight. Where was the ability to clean up this city’s collateral damage when you needed it?

Even if it only worked on things caused by other supervillains, it sure would be useful these days-

A fireball flew over her head, snapping her out of her thoughts. Turning around, she was swung at by a vaguely-familiar elderly man in crimson robes and flaming fists. “Leave!” he bellowed, “We are too busy to deal with interfering brats!”

“Busy with what?” G.G. prodded as she blocked and dodged all of his attacks - something she’d become abnormally good at.

“Art theft, for profit!” cheerily called another one wearing canary robes, leading Red Geezer to facepalm and groan.

Realizing his blunder, Yellow Geezer formed a lightning bolt in his hand and threw it at G.G.. “What’s with the sad look?” the heroine teased as she teleported on top of a sculpture. “You’re both getting the same treatment! Equal opportunity, dickheads!”

Another two near-identical old coots - one in office green robes had wind energy swirling around his hands, whereas the other, clad in cerulean robes wore frosty gauntlets - charged forward, having heard the commotion. G.G. scowled as she found herself surrounded on all fronts by these clones.

“It just occurred to me,” the four elders spoke in unison, “that I have not introduced myself. I am Count Element, lord of the artistic world!”

“And you’re about as scary as Count von Count,” G.G. deadpanned. “So you’re one person, huh?” she then asked, “Wanna explain how you split yourself up?

“How do you teleport or disable any weapons pointed in your direction?” Count Element countered. Heh. Good pun. Yusuke would be laughing right now.

“I doubt we have the same power sources, old man,” G.G. scoffed.

“I meant we’re both magical, you nettlesome brat!” Count Element snapped. His lips curled into an evil sneer. “How’s about an offer, actually…? You let me have all the paintings I came for here and I’ll spare you from my reign of terror.”

“Yeah, well, you’d also have to be on the cleanup crew, bub,” G.G. replied, gesturing to the ruinage around them, “Good job not wrecking the paintings-”

A door banged open, and of all people, Yusuke barged in. Damn it, she thought she’d locked that closet! “I heard the sounds of fighting! Futaba, where did you-” Upon seeing Count Element, he went slack, eyes impossibly wide and knees wobbling. The words that came out of his mouth next were a knife in G.G.’s heart.

“Sensei…? Is that… are they… you? That attire…”

“Wait…” G.G. looked from Yusuke to Count Element, back to Yusuke, then to the villain of the night once more. “YOU’RE MADARAME?!” she shrieked, and rather loudly at that. 

But rather than give an answer, the young man just stood there in horror. “This… this is all one big lie, isn’t it?”

“GODDAMN IT, YUSUKE!” the Madarames roared, “IT PAINS ME TO DO THIS, BUT I HAVE NO CHOICE! ERSÄTZE, DISPOSE OF HIM!”

The blue geezer fired a cyan blast at the blue-haired young man. Instinctively, he put up his hands in defense but only ended up with the full force of the blast directly hitting his bare palms, encasing them in ice. 

Yusuke’s scream of pain and sorrow was yet another moment that would haunt Futaba forever.

“Smash them against the wall!” GG called after him as he ran off, not failing to notice the tears in his eyes, “And put them in warm water after!”

Once he was out of sight, she turned back to the blue one, her ire sufficiently stoked. “You’re going down first. After that, I’m kicking all your asses so fucking bad you’ll be picking up your teeth with your toes!”

After checking in with the authorities to let them know he was stepping in, Surhomme charged in to see what could be salvaged, but it was already too late for the gallery. The condition of the area was already in terrible shape. Better late than never, he supposed.

The first thing he noticed as he burst through the doors wasn’t the villain (or villains, rather). Rather, it was an “UGH!” followed by a familiar orange and green girl making a spider-webbed crater in the walls, four phenotypically-identical men preparing to advance on her before noticing him. “Ah, you must be that new hero I saw recently,” one of the culprits jeered, “I suppose that you can better the odds and still fail horribly.”

“Genius-san, can you get up?”

“Oh,” G.G. groaned, “it’s you again. Sir Ham or whatever.”

As she recovered from the beating their foes had delivered, Surhomme began, “By the way, it’s Surhomme-”

As the different-colored criminals advanced on the two, G.G. stretched to work out the kinks in her body. “Whatever. I don’t need your help. Just go home, old man.”

“You getting slammed into a wall says otherwise.” Surhomme’s glare was directed at the elderly evildoers, not the girl they’d been whaling on. “And I’m already here, so…”

G.G. groaned. “Oh, fine!” As she and Surhomme prepared themselves and stared the Ersätze down, she explained, “These guys are all the same person - Madarame Ichiryusai, but he calls himself Count Element. He made these copies of himself, and they have different powers. Don’t weigh me down.”

“Powers, huh? Can do.”

Charging against the green one, he found himself going backwards as a strong wind pushed against him, eventually becoming too much for him to handle. He blew back, slamming through several walls until he managed to get his footing in a bathroom. As he rose from the gross rubble, his ears, while not enhanced in any way, picked up the sound of someone angrily crying and some crystalline cracking noises.

“Foolish!” BANG! “Idiotic!” BANG! “AAAGH!” BANG!

“Uh… you okay in there?”

The voice came from behind the stalls. “…yes. Just… very cold. That is all…”

“You sure? You sound troubled. Let me help you, if you’re okay with it.”

“... he… he attacked me. Why would he do that? I thought he cared… I thought he loved me…!”

Walking over to the male voice and hoping G.G. could handle things while he helped someone else, Surhomme asked, “Can you tell me your name, kid?”

“... Kitagawa Yusuke.”

Seeing the ice on Yusuke’s hands, the older man asked him to hold them out for him to examine. He grabbed onto the cold glovelike cages and softly warned, “This might hurt. I don’t know for sure, but be ready.”

“Very well…” 

“I’m going to do it in ten… nine… ei-” Pressing down, he crushed them under the weight of his fingers.

Despite having been lied to about when Surhomme would free him from his prison, Yusuke gave a tearful smile. “Thank you…” 

“It’s no problem. What are heroes for?” Surhomme sighed. “You know him, don’t you? The man who’s attacking Green-san?”

“It is a long story,” Yusuke admitted, “But yes. The Green Genius seemed to recognize him, though, so you should ask her.”

“Any details you can give me?”

Yusuke merely laughed hollowly. “That implies I ever knew him, it seems. I should have known…”

“It’s not your fault…” Surhomme realized something, then. “You know him, don't you?”

“I certainly thought I did,” Yusuke sighed, “He’s my foster father, but… well, it doesn’t matter right now. Please bring him to justice - it’s all I can ask for right now…”

“That’s the plan. Stay here until the police get you, okay?”

The boy merely nodded. “I will.”

“I hope things get better for you, kid. Now hide!”

Once Yusuke was out of sight, he came back to where the fight started, seeing G.G. knocking down the yellow Ersatz with a dropkick. He and the similarly-downed green and blue Ersätze disappeared in puffs of smoke, leaving a similarly-colored man in golden robes in the center.

“And that’s four!” she proclaimed as she approached the white-haired man. “Wow, you are terrible at keeping your vigor up. Might I recommend daily exercise? I hear that’s a common hobby for prisoners.”

A smirk appeared on Count Element’s face, and when Surhomme looked at where his eyes were pointed at, he noticed the red Ersatz surrounding himself in a great ball of fire. “Four?” he sneered.

“Yeah, your four clones? I know you can count. Blue, Yellow, Green are done, and you, Goldie, will make four.”

Count Element merely laughed. “Go back to math class where you belong.”

“Green!”

“Yeah, I got that o-” A fireball the size of a large boulder slammed straight into GG, knocking her headfirst into a sculpture of a giant lion with wings.

Surhomme dashed towards his fellow hero and shook her limp body. “Come on, get up! We’re almost done!”

He let out a sigh of relief upon seeing that she was still breathing. She was, however, unconscious, and the way Surhomme felt about that…

The camel inside the older hero’s mind had received the metaphorical straw on its back. Something he hadn’t felt since he found out what Akira’s biological parents did to him.

“Unless you want to join your brat, I suggest you surren-” The look of pure, unbridled rage on Surhomme caused Count Element to trail off. Hands shaking, he extended a hand out to have his duplicate minion attack for him.

The red Ersatz would be summarily defeated in a brutal manner that cannot be described on this website. The real Count Element, on the other hand, would be spending that night in the hospital before their eventual trip to jail. As the police filed in to arrest Madarame Ichiryusai, Surhomme made a quick yet detailed statement before cradling G.G. in his hands.

“Is she going to be okay?” Mutō Gocha, a Georgian-Japanese police lieutenant in charge of leading the operation who Surhomme had met last time, asked.

“I’ll make sure of it. No matter what.” Surhomme remembered another thing, then. “Hey… this jackass here had a foster kid he nearly turned into an ice sculpture. Pretty sure the boy’s still in the bathroom… make sure he gets treatment and all that, would you?”

“Understood, Monsieur!” Mutō-san nodded. Seeing no reason to stick around since G.G. needed the privacy, Surhomme took off, bounding across buildings with the floating powers he had. Luckily, he’d built a radio communicator for Akira with the suit.

“Yoaki,” Surhomme asked, using the codename they’d made up for him as precaution, “How much did you see?”

“I saw enough to know what’s going on,” Akira answered, “Is she all right?”

“Headed to the guests’ room to check her over and see if I can heal her. Make sure the cafe’s closed.” This was another code, of course: the guest room was what it said on paper, but the guests’ room was Surhomme’s little HQ. He adamantly refused to let Akira make any Batcave references.

He had hoped he’d never have to use the bed in this room. He hadn’t expected to take someone else’s kid there before him or (god forbid) Akira, either.

But laying down the knocked-out GG in it, he couldn’t help but wipe his brow at the sound of her breathing. He sat down on the edge of the bed and about how to explain everything to her when she inevitably woke up. From what he could tell, she was little more than unconscious - not injured in any major way, but bruised a little here and there.

He placed his hand on the goggles that protected her face. “Pretty high-tech,” he muttered as he brushed his hand over it, “Wakaba would have loved to get a look at this…”

Do not touch her mask without her permission again, Katafýgio-Patéras…

Surhomme looked around and sensed nobody. Where did such a vehement voice come from?

A hissing sound emanated from the keypad on G.G.’s arm. From it, a strange black fog spewed out, forming into an thundercloud-like orb with zig-zagging rainbow patterns drawn along it. Two eyes and a crescent-shaped smile formed and stared him down.

Surhomme got the feeling that he was about to meet a very powerful person.

Greetings, Katafýgio-Patéras. I am Prometheus.

Chapter Text

Surhomme couldn’t believe his eyes on what he was seeing. He sat speechless at the figure before him. “You’re kidding… Prometheus? Like, the ancient god or whatever? Or are you some program she made and named it after that guy?”

The first. I am the Second King of Gods. Prometheus' words left Surhomme now even more perplexed. Ach, your reaction is understandable. Humanity has yet to learn of the Ypovivasmoúmachía… the Demotion War.

“Okay, please explain what the hell is going on?” Surhomme asked, “Don’t tell me you got this kid to fight your battles?”

This is about as antithetical to involving mortal children in gods’ matters as I can go. Many centuries ago, I usurped my cousin Zeus from our pantheon’s throne. Even mortals such as yourself know of his many flings and how he abuses the power he took from my uncle, Kronos.

“Did you…?”

Kill him? Yes. He is fortunate to still have domain over the skies.

“But aren’t gods…”

Immortal, yes, but not invincible. You can kill a god, and I did kill him - with his wife and brothers’ help, at that! - but you cannot take their life away. That domineering despot is with his grandfather Ouranos now, presiding over the skies and never able to interfere again. He has only interfered with your kind’s lives to harm, pillage and annihilate as he pleases, and now he is powerless.

“So you’re interfering with humanity’s path…”

Not too heavily. The power to interfere and alter humanity’s fates slowly crawls out of our control, and I wish to fix as many of my cousin’s mistakes as possible while I still can… the Méllontikó-Korítsi you see before you has the power to change the world, for better or for worse…

“... I’m guessing you want my help?”

It does not please me to beseech this of you, Katafýgio-Patéras, but yes. Watch over my charge, and ensure she comes to no major harm, or we are all, in mortals’ colloquial terminology, in very deep shit.

As he had appeared, the foggy form of Prometheus flew back into G.G.’s keypad.

“Holy shit…” Akira’s voice whispered from behind Surhomme. Looking in his direction, he saw Akira had only peeked the door open to hide himself from G.G. in case she was awake. “Was that seriously a…?”

“We’re sleeping on this one, Yoaki,” Surhomme whispered in a harsher tone than he would have liked. Akira let out a quiet hum in affirmation and audibly snuck away.

On second thought, Surhomme reasoned, With Akira around, I shouldn’t let her up. If she attacks me on sight, he might be in danger… plus, she has to leave eventually. Can’t have her tracking this location later… damn it.

Hoisting her up again, he snuck back out through the window and found a good, covert spot on top of a building behind a billboard. He set her down on the roof just in time for her to wake up with a groan.

“Ugh, how long was I out for?” The goggles-wearing girl blinked rapidly to see her savior. “You again? Please tell me you cleaned things up while I was out…”

Surhomme chuckled at that. “Well, I couldn’t just leave you napping on the ground with Madarame out and about.”

“He says this as I get up from the roof of a building…” G.G. scoffed as she rose from her back onto a sitting position. Something must have come to her mind, however, because she froze. “Wait… did you peek at my identity?”

“What? No!” Surhomme countered. “Even if I wanted to, I wasn’t given the chance.”

“Then who stopped you?” G.G. questioned near-instantly. She wasn’t pulling any punches, huh? Her scowl only lasted a few seconds, though, before she paused in thought. “Wait… did you meet…?”

No sense in hiding it. “Yeah, I met Prometheus. He gave me some explanation, though I don’t know how much of it you know.” He mentally exhaled a little when G.G.’s countenance became less harsh. “If it’s worth anything, I wasn’t going to remove your goggles. I’ll admit, I wanted to look at them - heh, someone I lost contact with would have loved to examine it - but I swear to your god-friend-whatever that I’ve never had any interest in knowing your identity.”

G.G. squinted at him and slowly got up from where she’d been. “Guess there’s more to you than I thought,” she commented as she stood up. She looked around and took in the night sky above her. “Oh man, I’ve never been out this long before…” Hesitantly, almost shyly, she looked back to Surhomme. “Thanks for the rescue, by the way. I’ll pay you back somehow!” With that, she prepared to teleport somewhere.

“Forget any debt.” G.G. paused at Surhomme’s assurance. “I don’t need anything from you, and you don’t owe me to begin with. I’m not the kind of guy to make kids owe him favors. All in a day’s work, right?”

If you didn’t count her confident smirks in the heat of battle, this was the first time Surhomme had ever seen G.G. smile. “All in a day’s work!” she parroted. A two-finger salute followed before she’d teleported away.

One smooth exit later, G.G. was back in the closest thing she had to a secret base… by which she meant her bedroom. She breathed a sigh of relief after making sure she didn’t have any burns or scorch marks on her left from the attack.

A loud sound made her jump. She frantically pressed buttons, reverting her back to Isshiki Futaba. Listening in to rehear the sound, her shoulders lost their tension upon hearing that it was only the snoring of her uncle.

Prometheus above, she really hated Isshiki Youji. He was loud, violent, a frequent gambler, and he almost seemed to enjoy it when he took the grief of the disappearance of her Mom out on her for ridiculous things frequently, but given Futaba was the one who made Shisseki Wakaba ditch them all, this was what she deserved, right? To suffer under the brunt of the world’s biggest assholes?

Dispelling her thoughts before she started crying again and risking waking him up, she flopped into her bed and just managed to fwump her face into her pillow before she passed out for the next fiveish hours.

It had been a few days since the attack at the museum, and no more criminal activity had popped up. Sojiro and Akira didn’t mind the downtime, however. Leblanc was beginning to get a few regulars, and Akira could get some quality practice with teaching Isshiki. The girl was slowly warming up to him.

He and Akira had just closed up for the night when Sojiro’s phone went off with the important-but-not-superhero-related ringtone. Looking at it, he saw the caller was the youngest of his old government acquaintances, Vigilante Commissioner Niijima Sae. Her job was to manage and keep track of all the vigilantes and superpowered beings helping Japan and ensure none of them got too out-of-hand. As countries went, Japan was surprisingly chill with vigilantes who didn’t officially register with the system (Surhomme was not yet registered, and research had informed him and Akira that the Green Genius was vehemently against registering), but they were more draconic than many others with punishment for the more violent registered heroes and anyone else who would misuse their superpowers. The two had an oddly-strong bond for their age difference, but it was formed over a desire to see righteousness prevail over evil in the world. Her younger sister Makoto had harbored a crush on Akira for a little while ago, but it wasn’t reciprocated; both were relieved to conclude it didn’t impact their friendship meaningfully. Add in the fact that Sojiro’s identity was safe with Sae, and all in all, the Sakuras and Niijimas got along swimmingly.

“Evening, Niijima. How’s progress on the Dark Sun Burglars?”

“We’re finally getting somewhere, thank you for asking,” Sae responded, “but that’s not what I need to talk to you about at the moment.”

“... what’s on your mind?”

“Well… I’m sure you remember that supervillain you fought at the art museum a few days ago.”

“Count Element or whatever? Hoo boy, that was a fight I’m not gonna forget…”

“Yes, well, about him… I believe you’re aware he had a foster son, correct?”

“Yes… Kitagawa Yusuke, right? We briefly talked when I got blown into the bathrooms; his hands had been encased in ice.”

“Medical examinations did indicate he had his hands frozen over… he has stated a need to have someone house him and help him grow into independence, and I owe a favor to the man assigned to his case.”

“... you need me to take the kid in. Am I correct?”

“It wouldn’t be a plenary adoption like with Akira… well, it’s not an adoption at all. It would be little more than housing him and getting him to therapist meetings until he’s able to live on his own.”

“I see… I’m guessing his therapist is Takemi-sensei or one of her coworkers?”

“Yes, but I’m not allowed to tell you who specifically. Whether or not Kitagawa-kun informs you is for him to decide.”

“Got it.” Sojiro took a deep breath in and out; he was really doing this, huh? “I’ll need to let Akira know, but… I consent to take him in.” Something occurred to him. “One last question, actually-”

“Ask as many as you need, whenever you need. I’ll send you some contacts for his information.”

“- does he know about…?”

“No, he doesn’t. I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone unless you consented to that, and I did mean it. He’ll be coming in two or three days, which should give you plenty of time to set things up for him, as well as tell Akira what’s going on. Thank you again.” With that, Sae hung up.

Sojiro sighed, before heading downstairs. Best to tell Akira now, lest he forget later.

Akira, as Sojiro should’ve predicted, was completely understanding. Surhomme had mentioned Yusuke’s predicament to him while telling Akira what had gone on, and his situation resonated with the man. If anything, Akira was almost eager at the thought of having him around, visibly anticipatory of the day he would come over. He’d even been quick to set up the guest’s room to prepare for Yusuke’s arrival.

Then, the day finally came. Akira was working on homework for another class in one of the booths in the café, but his eyes immediately perked up when he heard a knock on the door.

“Hello?” a baritone voice inquired quietly. The blue hair of the young man that was in the photos he and Dad had was instantly recognizable as his new housemate.

“You’re Kitagawa, I presume?”

“Yes. I assume you are the son of the proprietor I was told about?” 

As he asked the question, Akira got up and held out his hand. “Yes. I’m Sakura Akira. Don’t worry, you’re gonna be just fine here… oh! I should help you get everything to the guest room, huh?

“... everything?”

“Yeah…? All your belongings?” Akira tilted his head in confusion. “Sojiro even made your first cup of Leblanc coffee for you, if you drink. If it’s cold, I’ll make you a new cup.”

“I’m no stranger to coffee…” Yusuke admitted. He looked down to the two suitcases in each of his hands. “But I have everything already with me.”

Akira was silent, but flames of outrage had been stoked within his heart. These two suitcases were all he had?

“Oh… that’s fine. We’ll make sure you feel at home here.” His voice had lowered, but it was back to his common, casual, chipper tone within a heartbeat. “Remind me at some point in the future to take you shopping, get you some knick-knacks. For now, though, let’s not waste any more time getting you settled!”

Even with all the set-up they did, the guest room was just as empty but for a bed as when they moved in, so helping Yusuke unpack felt almost cathartic when it came to moving to Tokyo. One of the suitcases contained various art supplies in it. Attempting to make conversation, Akira said, “Wow, you came prepared! We got a pretty good view in this room, you know.”

Yusuke turned towards the window, staring out of it at the city and sky for a brief moment before immediately going back to the suitcase he was unpacking. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

With two people and not a lot in the cases, unpacking for Yusuke went swiftly. After that, they went downstairs to Leblanc (which was closed, as it was too late at night for customers). Akira eagerly presented Yusuke with the mug of coffee Sojiro had left him before going on a poorly-timed grocery run.

Yusuke's frown did not change much after drinking it. “It’s cold…”

“Wow, did we really take that long unpacking?” Akira wondered out loud. “I could’ve sworn we went much faster than that.” Nevertheless, he picked up the cup and walked out of the room. “Don’t worry, I promised you a new cup, and I’m a man of my word.”

So Akira made him a new cup. He got Yusuke’s tastes to cream and sugar, which was kept in low amounts due to Sojiro’s preference for black coffee, and grabbed him a slice of day-old amanattō too.

Yusuke sipped the fresh coffee before sighing pleasantly. “This is very good coffee! Thank you, Sakura-san.”

“It’s no problem,” Akira smiled. Under his breath, he grumbled, “Though I’m not nearly old enough to be called Sakura-san…”

“You’ll get used to it,” Sojiro teased as he stepped through the entrance.

Both boys jumped. “You’re getting too good at scaring me,” Akira accused.

Sojiro laughed. “It’s a useful trick, if you ask me.” Shaking his head with a mirthful smile, he turned to Yusuke. “You must be Kitagawa-kun. Sorry I was out when you got here…”

“So you’re Sakura-san, then?” Kitagawa asked. Getting up from his barstool seat, he bowed. “Thank you for taking me in. I understand I may be a burden on you, but I will do my best to avoid troubling you-”

“You’re not a burden, kid.”

Yusuke froze, so Sojiro softened his voice a bit. “I don’t know who or what got it into your head that you’re a burden, but you’re not,” he assured the blue-haired teen, “You’re going through a real rough patch, and I’m going to do my best to help you through it as best I can. You need any advice or someone to talk to, you can come to me and Akira.”

“I…” Yusuke seemed uncomfortable… no, more like he seemed to feel out of his depth. “Thank you. I will come to you if I need aid with anything… my first appointment with Doctor Nicholas is on Tuesday, by the way.”

“Got it,” Sojiro nodded, “Today’s… Sunday, right? It’s just down the street, but we’ll walk with you if you’d like.”

“... that would be nice,” Yusuke admitted. “While I don’t particularly like the idea of endangering either of you, it would be nice to have witnesses in case any associates Sens- Madarame’s might have had attempt to eliminate me. I apologize…”

“No sweat,” Akira replied smoothly. “We can handle ourselves, worst-case scenario, but Dad and I keep you safe, we swear.”

Sojiro nodded in assent. “Now, since I’m guessing Akira’s shown you around the house, let me make you guys dinner.”

Yusuke, of course, had enjoyed the curry.

That night, after Yusuke had gone to bed in the guest room (citing a need to adjust to his new sleeping quarters), Akira informed Sojiro, “Before I forget: you need to check the heaters. I think one of them is broken.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Akira showed him the coffee mug Yusuke had that morning, which he found to be much colder than usual. “Yeah, that’s way too cold for a coffee mug. I know I prepared it right, so let’s see what's going on.” 

When he checked the heater for any malfunctions, however…

“Nope. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

“Is the air conditioning too cold in his room? That could be a factor.” Akira guessed, pacing around the room. “No, that wouldn’t matter, the coffee was downstairs. His bed was also colder, last I checked. Maybe something to do with his body temperature? I dunno…”

“Body temp… wait a minute.” Something clicked in Sojiro’s mind. “The ice that Count Element hurt his hands with… he might have frostbite.”

“Hasn’t shown any signs of pain either.” Akira confirmed, “Though if you want to call a doctor, be my guest.”

Sojiro pondered for a moment, flashing back to a certain memory from years ago. “Give me a moment.”

Oh, Wakaba… where’s your knowledge and notes when I need them?

He searched for something he could afford to test his theory on, something not as easily breakable. Once he eventually decided on an apple from the fridge, he walked back up to Yusuke’s room. The light in the room was off, and the hallway lights dimly lit the area around Yusuke’s bed. Sojiro heard Yusuke shuffling restlessly under the covers.

“Hey, uh… Kitagawa? Could you do something for me-“

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

With lightning-fast reflexes, Sojiro jumped out of the way, dropping the apple in his hand when a cyan light zoomed past him, stopping against the wall and covering it in a small pile of snow with a fwump.

Sojiro whistled. “Welp…” he muttered under his breath, “that’s one way to prove my theory.”

“Oh… it’s just you…” Yusuke said, still waking up. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“No, no. It’s my fault. I should’ve let you sleep before I tried this.” He looked at the snow mound Yusuke had created on the wall. “Though I guess we should address the elephant in the room now… or maybe mammoth is the better term.”

“What?” Yusuke’s eyes took time to adjust to the sight. “Oh… that’s pretty.”

“You’re not… you’re not concerned you just did that?”

“That was… me?” Staring down the snow-crystal clump, Yusuke made a quadrilateral shape with his hands.

“What… what are you doing?”

“This moment! A perfectly etched wall of snow in an indoor environment! And during the summer , no less! I couldn’t ask for a better opportunity!”

“Well that certainly cheered you up. But you really should get to bed. We can see what’s going on with your powers in the morning.”

But Yusuke jolted out of the bed before any further protests could be made. “I cannot just let this melt!”

“What’s up with hi- woah.” Akira walked in the room and took a step back at a scene that probably should’ve had police tape or something over it. “At least he seemed to have taken it better than you did.”

“Let’s give him some space for now.” Sojiro recommended, speedwalking out of the way once he saw Yusuke approach the snow with his sketchbook, “I think he needs to get the excitement out of his system.”

About fifty minutes later, Sojiro walked back into Yusuke’s room with a towel to check on him and the snow mound. The snow, however, had melted, leaving a puddle on the floor. After he finished wiping up the floor, he noticed the sketchbook Yusuke had on top of him as he slept. Sojiro couldn’t quite make it out, but the drawing appeared to be an illustration of crystalline patterns akin to a snowflake.

“Heh… this guy is quite the opportunist, isn’t he?” Sojiro remarked.

“As much as we should talk with him about his powers,” Akira reasoned, “it’s rather late. Let’s make sure to talk to him tomorrow, learn his schedule, and anything else…”

Sojiro nodded in response, so the two went to bed. Akira silently prayed that Yusuke wouldn’t have another nightmare that night.

“Hey, Yusuke?” Sojiro asked when Yusuke opened the door. “Before you go to class today, we need to talk.”

Yusuke’s shoulders immediately hunched. “Have I done something wrong?” Visibly thinking back, he remembered the events of last night. “Ah, yes, the ice thing. I’m afraid I may have acted rather oddly for myself in my sleep-deprived state last night…”

“No sweat,” Sojiro assured him, “The point is, me and Akira want to ensure your powers are used safely.”

“That makes sense, though I doubt you two would have any experience in this field.” Yusuke assumed, brushing back his bangs. “I suppose this is something I’ll have to understand on my own.”

“Oh, you won’t need to worry about that…” Sojiro smirked. He’d understood that Yusuke would find out sooner or later, anyways. “Magic’s not my field of expertise, but… I’d like to think you can place your trust in the guy who got your hands out of that ice in the first place.”

Yusuke’s eyes shot open upon the realization. “That voice…! You are…?!”

Sojiro merely nodded. “You can keep this a secret, right?”

Having swallowed a breath, Yusuke nodded fervently. “I will! I do wish you hadn’t sprung this on me, but I do understand why you wouldn’t tell just anyone.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “Akira doesn’t have any powers, does he?”

“Nope, but he does know. I feel like he’d tell me.”

Yusuke nodded in understanding. “Are you attempting to recruit me to your side in crime-fighting?”

“That wasn’t my intent, no,” Sojiro assured him, “I’m more interested in making sure you can responsibly use and control your powers. And before you ask, no, that’s not why you were sent to me… I think.” Sae did know of Sojiro’s abilities, so it was entirely possible that it was some part of the reason she went to him…

Yusuke was silent for a minute before saying, “I will admit to being somewhat nervous. I’m not even sure how I acquired such powers…”

“I had a theory, if you’d like to hear it.”

“By all means, please share.”

“Well, alright. Let me explain…”

Chapter Text

“So in short, the magic from Sens- Madarame’s attack somehow imbued itself into my body?” Yusuke mused when Sojiro explained his extremely lengthy and abstruse theory on how he got his powers.

“That would make sense,” Akira confirmed. “Nice job, Dad. That recap was so concise, it saved us an entire page.”

“But that copy of him was defeated… why is that magic still within me?”

“... that I don’t know,” Sojiro admitted, “but it’s probably better to focus on the here and now. I’ll train you in self-defense and do what I can to help you better control your powers. Akira, when you have time, you can help walk him through the former bits if you want to join in. In fact, you probably should so you don’t get rusty, but I won’t make you.”

“Yeah, I could use the practice… sounds great to me!”

“Very well…” Yusuke nodded. “When do we start?”

“What days do you have class on?”

Yusuke filled Sojiro in. “Good to know. You’ll be training with me once or twice on Mondays, but we’ll start this week on Thursday, if that’s okay.”

Yusuke’s therapy meeting on Tuesday came and went. So did his class Wednesday, and while Thursday was decently grueling for Yusuke, Friday came around fast, and on that day, Sojiro gave Yusuke a break from training. Akira, the social butterfly he was, had wanted to get to know the guy he’d become at least somewhat familiar with even better. Thus, Yusuke had been requested to meet for lunch at a popular diner in Shibuya after the more open of the two finished the tutoring sessions he was doing.

“This should be it…” Yusuke confirmed to himself as he stepped into said diner. “I hope he does not mind me arriving a little early…”

Yet when he was looking around for a table, he found Akira with some girl. “Akira?”

“Oh, hi, Yusuke! You’re a bit early…”

“Wait, what?!” The girl whipped around, looking properly freaked out. 

Yusuke recognized this girl, actually. “Futaba?”

“Sorry, I swear I can explain- hold on… you two know each other?”

“I could say the same thing!” Futaba exclaimed, standing up from her seat. “Beanstalk here’s like, my only friend!”

“We have been living together for almost a week now…”

“Living together?!” Futaba gaped openly, her tone thankfully without malice. “Okay… I gotta process this for a moment…” She pointed at Akira. “My BS-mandated tutor…” Her finger moved to point at Yusuke. “... lives with my best friend.”

“... yes.” Akira said at the same time Yusuke said, “And?”

“How do you guys know each other again?” Akira asked curiously. “You’re a third-year in high-school. He’s in university.”

“We both attended Kosei… well, I’m still there. Beanstalk’s already graduated and ditched me…” Futaba pouted.

“I did not know you resented me for that…” Yusuke frowned.

“No, not like that!” Futaba amended hastily, almost bumping into the table as she shot up. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how that sounded.”

“No, it is my fault,” Yusuke apologized. “I should’ve noticed that myself. I’m more free than I was with Madarame, I’ve realized, so if you would like to spend more time with me, I’ll be more open.” Akira nudged him. “But not on Mondays, Tuesdays or Wednesdays. I have therapy and class on the latter two days…”

“And on the former?” Futaba inquired innocently.

“Akira and his father have requested to spend time with me, as to further acquaint ourselves with each other. I also intend to use the gym membership I recently purchased, so that if Madarame has any associates who would like to dispose of me that I have a better chance of defending myself.”

“That’s a smart move,” Futaba nodded along. “Our world’s pretty shitty, so it wouldn’t surprise me if there were dickheads who wanted you dead. Anyways, you really seem to care about Sakura-san, don’t you?”

Akira was surprised by her cynicism, but Yusuke, being more accustomed to it, responded, “I didn’t want to have my entire time spent with them be an awkward affair, so I promised them I’d spend time with them when I could… I would like to think I’m quite good at keeping obligations. That is why I was here… oh! I shouldn’t be interrupting your study-time any further, should I?”

“Sakura-san only has a problem or two left to go,” Akira shrugged. “You wanna help?”

“If she allows it-”

“Hell yeah! You make way more sense than Mr. U-shit-maru!”

Akira woke up from his dream of fighting alongside his dad with similar powers to the sound of someone crying. He only remembered it for a few moments before it left his mind, but it still made him a little miffed. Shaking that aside, he hopped out of bed and stumbled over to where the sound was coming from. It was Yusuke’s room, but what was he upset about?

“Yusuke? Are you okay?”

Hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot and teary from his position in bed, Yusuke whipped around to face Akira before softening. “Oh… did I wake you up? I’m sorry, Akira.”

“Don’t apologize! I just want to know what’s wrong.”

How Sojiro slept through this was a mystery, but Akira sat down on the side of Yusuke’s bed, ready to hear him out. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

Yusuke paused before giving his response. “…”

“Yusuke, I want to know if you’re comfortable telling me this stuff first and foremost.”

Yusuke took a shaky breath in and out. Akira thought he felt the temperature drop a degree or two. “… I am.” At Akira’s nod, he began, “Madarame… was not a bad teacher. He truly does have skill and knowledge on Japanese art and the requisite instruction, which is how he earned the fame that caused him to… to prioritize his wants over me. Furthermore, he always encouraged me to work on the craft I genuinely enjoy… looking back, however I wish he hadn’t advised me to prioritize it over all else.”

“All else?”

“Him and my art. That was pretty much everything. If I could live without eating and drinking, he would have convinced me to abandon it. It similarly applied with appearances, hygiene and other things that would risk his reputation if they were under par. Other major experiences in life, too - if I couldn't do art for whatever reason, I don’t know what else I would do instead… or want to do at all.”

Akira pushed back Yusuke’s fringe, causing a tiny smile to appear on the younger man’s face. “Yusuke… I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. Just know that you’re safe here. We said you could stay here as long as you need, and I’m sure that you can stay for how long you want, too.”

“That would be…” Yusuke yawned. “… preferable…”

Akira crouched down to give Yusuke a hug. Yusuke took it gladly, and they stood there hugging for a while before Akira made to leave the room. 

Well, that was the plan. 

Yusuke’s soft voice stopped him cold… pun not intended. “... Akira?”

“Yeah?”

“Could… could you please stay with me?”

Akira didn’t hesitate to hop back onto Yusuke’s bed. “Of course, man.” As if by instinct, he began to comb Yusuke's hair with his hand.

“Thank you…”

It wasn’t long before Yusuke embraced Akira once more, and Akira lied down to make it easier for him. The soft cushions of the bed only made it easier to do the same to Yusuke.

Yusuke’s heavy breathing grew softer and softer, but his grip on Akira never loosened. Akira rubbed Yusuke’s back in an attempt to calm him down, placing his head next to the other boy. The cool air around him coming from Yusuke brought a calming aura to Akira. Once he was sure Yusuke had fallen asleep, Akira wanted to leave the room to go to his own bed, but something inside him told him not to - that Yusuke still needed him.

So he didn’t move. He didn’t let go. Even as he began to drift off, the silence of the night allowed him to focus on the slowly rising and falling presence that was the chest of Yusuke’s thin body rising and falling.

Before his consciousness fully wavered, Akira thought about the younger man with him. Over the week or so he’d known Yusuke for, he’d become more than just a training partner and housemate to him now.

And he didn’t want Yusuke to leave either.

Having heard the crying, Sojiro woke up. It took a little bit to get his body out of bed, but he soon went to check on Akira. When he saw his son wasn’t in his bed, he walked over to Yusuke’s room to ask if he knew where Akira was.

He was pleasantly surprised to see Akira sleeping soundly with Yusuke in his arms.

The way they seemed to breathe in sync with one another almost made Sojiro shed a tear… okay, maybe one tear. 

Akira would never know.

“Problem solved, huh?” he whispered to himself before carefully closing the door. “Good…”

More days went by. Akira and Yusuke had classes, therapy meetings, and Yusuke practiced his cryokinetics. Yusuke learned to bake and make coffee as well, wearing special gloves to avoid accidentally serving a new type of iced coffee. Furthermore, he and Sojiro also learned how to do more than burn ramen, thanks to Akira.

And one day in the middle of October, as the three of them were chilling (pun entirely intended) in the cafe after a long day of the usual shtick, relishing in the peaceful moments, Yusuke randomly said, “Apologies for forgetting, but… when am I required to leave?”

Yusuke needed no ice powers to drop the room temperature by a few degrees. “Required?” Sojiro questioned. “We said you could stay as long as you needed. We meant it, you know.”

“That’s… good…” Yusuke hung his head low on the table. “Not to overstay my welcome, but I… don’t think I want to. Ever.” 

A few moments of silence passed before Yusuke sighed. Slowly, unsurely, he looked up at the myriad of emotions fighting for prominence in the eyes of his host family. “I understand if you don’t wish to house me past a certain length of time…”

“No! Don’t worry about it!” Akira frantically waved his hands in front of himself in an attempt to reassure him.

“Heck, if you want to stay forever…” Sojiro chuckled. “We could always make it official, you know?”

“No, I understand I have to go eventually.”

“Do you want to go at some point?” Akira asked.

“... no…?”

“Then we’ll gladly accept you as part of the family,” Sojiro assured him, “... if you want to stay, that is.”

Yusuke looked like he’d been handed a demolition switch to all the corruption and evil in Madarame’s heart. “Yes… please…?”

“To be honest, I’ve always wanted a big family…” Akira began, putting an arm around Yusuke’s shoulder. “It wasn’t exactly easy back when I was alone, but you… you’re pretty much everything I wanted in a younger brother and more.”

“A brother…?” Yusuke’s eyes and lips quivered. It was clear he had much to learn about showing and receiving affection.

Well, he had plenty of time to do so now.

Sojiro nodded to him. “Come on, kid. You can stick with us for as long as you want.”

“If you would be okay with it…”

“Not our decision,” Sojiro reminded him. “Your decision.”

“Then… yes. I would love to be part of your family.”

Akira couldn’t help the cheer that loosed itself from his mouth, nor could he prevent himself from hugging Yusuke for as long as he could. 

“Hasegawa-san is going to be in for quite a shock…” Yusuke laughed, tears slipping down his face.

Sojiro chuckled, remembering his Zenkichi-proclaimed kouhai and his adopted daughter. “What, are you kidding? If he can, he’ll personally help you. He’s got a soft spot for troubled youths.”

“You sure, Dad?” Akira asked.

“It’s not my place to explain,” Sojiro responded, “but I can say for certain that Hasegawa will understand.”

“I love you, little bro.”

“I’m… taller than you.”

With Zenkichi and Sae backing the process, Yusuke was officially plenarily adopted by Sojiro at the end of the month.

Yusuke Kitagawa was now Yusuke Sakura.

About a week after they got the news, Sojiro got an interesting idea from training. Sojiro was far from the type to intentionally endanger kids, but Yusuke was an adult man, however young or old an adult.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he would force him.

“So I know the days where I haven’t been available have been… tough, what with Akira and you taking care of the cafe, his tutoring, you being alone during those times, and whatever else comes. So I’ve been thinking… how would you like to join me in the heroes’ business?”

“That sounds… wonderful! I can already feel myself tripping up my opponents in style!”

“Hey, slow down, ice-cream man.” Sojiro patted Yusuke on the head. “It’s not as easy as it looks. We have to get you a suit, come up with your alter ego, and wait for whatever’s gonna be your first fight.”

“I do believe the training you have given me is more than enough combat prowess.”

“If you wanna commit to this, then understand that there’s going to be a lot more than training from here on.”

“I understand, Father.”

“I already told you - no need to be so formal.”

“Sorry… after all this time with Madarame, I’m still learning to enjoy a lack of formality.” Yusuke shook his head. “In any case, I should get started on the design for my disguise.”

“Oh? Do you have an idea in mind already, Yusuke?”

“Not yet. Just the idea process in a good design can be hard, but there are already a plentiful amount of drafts swirling around in my head.”

“Take your time with that, bro,” Akira called to him from the other side of the room.

And take his time he did. For the next few days during the time when Yusuke wasn’t otherwise busy, it felt like he would never come out of his room at some point. Akira had entered the room for the sole purpose that was to dump out the garbage can full of wasted sketches.

Sojiro almost dropped his second-favorite mug when Yusuke, unheralded, yelled, “I’ve done it!”

Sojiro took a look at it, eventually nodding approvingly at Yusuke. “Not bad, kid… one question, though - where are we gonna get you a blade like that?”

Yusuke merely raised his index finger in the air and made an emoji-like thumbs-up of ice. “Okay, so that wasn’t the smartest way to say it. That said, we know you can only make so much if you’re injured enough, so we might want to get you an actual blade as well.”

“Very well…” Yusuke nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking, how are you going to get such a costume constructed?”

“I mentioned I worked in governmental physics, right?” Sojiro asked.

Since Yusuke had been filled in on Sojiro’s backstory, he nodded. “My branch was working on an omni-purpose armor suit that, when worn, could deal with many different powers and come out without a scratch. It was something made to deal with supervillains with all sorts of powers, but nothing more. Well, it’s not like it matters now… I have good experience at making armor and suits that should protect you just fine.” 

“Good to know… I presume that the guests’ room is your workshop?”

“Yup. I’ll have it up and ready to go within a few days.” Cricking his neck back and forth, Sojiro took the finished sketch to begin his old work.

On the way, however, Akira stopped Sojiro. “Weird question, Dad: would you mind teaching me to make and repair outfits?”

“What, the coffee skills weren’t enough?” Sojiro jested.

“Don’t deflect, Dad.” Akira’s face was serious. “I know I can’t do much to help you in a fight, but I figure I could do something while I’m at home and you and Yusuke are out… you know.”

Sojiro took a few moments, but he ultimately gave in. “I don’t know how smart it would be to teach you everything , but I’ll at least give you the basics. And your classwork takes first priority, okay?”

“I promise.”

A few days and a measurement or two later…

“Alright, kid… you ready?”

“Yes, F… Dad.”

Sojiro held up the costume, looking like it had jumped right off the page Yusuke had drawn it on. 

“It’s beautiful!”

“What are you gonna name him?” Sojiro asked once he laid the suit down for Yusuke to try on.

“What?”

“Don’t think of it as your alter ego. It can lead to an identity crisis later on. Think of it as simply the name of your suit.”

“That… makes a lot of sense.”

Akira smirked. “You should’ve seen him after his first big fight.”

“I’m too old for identity crises…” Father and older son began to bicker, Akira effortlessly refuting everything Sojiro threw back at him. 

“Yukitsune…”

Two heads whipped over to Yusuke, who smirked almost deviously. “I think such an alias suits me rather well.”

Akira burst into laughter, whereas Sojiro groaned. “I knew I liked you for a reason!” the former cackled.

“Yukitsune… a simple portmanteau, huh?” Sojiro asked, “You sure you don’t want anything more dramatic?”

Yusuke raised one eyebrow. “Your name means Super Man. Are you sure you’re in any position to speak?”

“Touché, kid… touc-”

Sojiro’s phone rang with the crime alert ringtone.

“Not that I’m happy that there’s crime, but that’s awfully convenient… Well, Yukitsune? Ready to give it a spin?”

Yusuke nodded confidently. “It is time…”

While G.G. believed being on the scene at a crime’s beginning was more convenient, she very much preferred having distance.

She’d just finished her homework when Prometheus had informed her of a disturbance he’d sensed.

“Not that I’m happy that there’s crime, but that’s awfully convenient…” GG said as she transformed and beamed into the area. “Who do we have today…?”

These guys have chutzpah. Plainclothes disguises? Wooooooow. 

Chapter Text

Surhomme and his new son observed the blue-collar workers as they silently marched into a bank. Surhomme could tell they were all armed with simple handguns or clubs and little more.

Neither of them understood why these folks were attacking in broad daylight, and without any disguises at that. Surely they didn’t mean to be so easily trackable?

Surhomme then sensed a presence appear from behind him. He whipped around, fists ready to brawl, only to ease at the sight of the Green Genius.

“You’re still kickin’ it, old-timer? Well, better than you being dead-” G.G. stopped once she saw the one at Surhomme’s side. “Hey, what’s with Foxboy?”

“Ah, it is nice to finally meet you. You may call me Yukitsune - I’m functioning as Surhomme’s new sidekick at least for today. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“H-hey, don’t call yourself a sidekick. You’re more than that.” Surhomme’s tone was serious but tender.

“What kind of lame name is Yukitsune ?”

“Coming from someone who abbreviates her name more often than not?”

G.G. glowered at Yukitsune. “Whatever happened to seniority rule?”

Refusing to back down, Yukitsune responded, “It’s rather overvalued. As you’re someone who’s taken down a few corrupt elders, I thought you were the type who could care less about such a rule.”

G.G., to both men’s surprise, laughed. “Inari has bite ! You picked well, viejo . Now, what the hell’s going on with these costumeless chowderheads?”

As the three looked back down at the rooftops to see the last of the raiders file into the bank, Yukitsune remarked, “There sure are a lot of them… perhaps they’re thinking they won’t be able to be identified in crowds?”

“Still too much risk,” Surhomme pointed out, “It’s even easier to identify them with camera footage.”

“Then that’s where they’ll be going first!” G.G. reasoned. “... aside from the vaults, of course.” She looked to Surhomme, and when their eyes met, they understood the best plan together.

Divide and conquer.

“Alright, but how are we dividing this up?” Surhomme noted.

“I think the old man should handle the guys going for the money, at least,” G.G. decided, ignoring Surhomme’s complaints. “If we’re gonna be meeting up this often, I may as well learn to work with Yukitsune.”

Yukitsune’s voice was resolute. “I can work with this.”

Surhomme placed a hand and solemnly said, “Good luck, kid.” before they separated.

With the girl he had seen on television every so often before he became like her, Yukitsune’s speed increased as he slid towards the attackers. He kicked under one of their legs to trip them over, getting the robbers’ attention. One of them whipped out their handgun to fire, which he stopped with a quickly-formed ice-shield.

G.G. paused in beating the snot out of an now-unresponsive mook to watch Yukitsune bash the gunman over his head. “Yo, you’re cryokinetic?”

“What?”

“The control and manipulation of ice and the ability to lower surrounding temperatures, Inari. Thought you and the old man woulda researched this, to be honest-”

Suddenly, Surhomme’s voice came through to Yukitsune via an earpiece they both had equipped, followed by the sound of a roundhouse kick and the yelp of an unfamiliar voice. “They’ve got snipers up ahead, kid! Stay frosty!”

As if on cue, Yukitsune sensed a targeting presence who had taken position from he and G.G.’s backs. He unsheathed his blade, whipped around, and deflected a bullet from a young woman. All his training had allowed his angling to have the bullet knock the rifle out of her hands before he swooped in for the knockout punch.

“Woah…!” G.G. said in awe. “Trained U.S. Sniper; over 300 confirmed kills!”

Yukitsune looked at her confusedly, but he didn’t get the chance to ask what she’d just said.

“Out of our way. We have money to take.” Two monotone, almost dazed-sounding voices echoed in unison. The two looked in that direction to see two goons, both more brawny than the rest of their compatriots, cracking their knuckles.

One of them grabbed Green Genius by the arm and swung her right into Yukitsune. While they were both recuperating from having their noses slammed into each other, G.G. was thrown onto the floor next to her new ally, nearly knocking into him.

The bigger goon rushed over, arm raised to smash her, but Yukitsune froze his whole arm, slowing him down enough for G.G. to recuperate and get out of harm’s way, yanking Yukitsune with her.

“Sorry about that, ice boy,” G.G. apologized, still scratching her nose after the encounter. “You still feelin’ good?”

“Yes.”

“Good…” She softened a little. “You know, I think I forgot how tough my first fight was… sorry for being cold.” Shaking her head, G.G. sprung up to her feet and put her hands up in fists. “Alright, put ‘em up!”

The two set about throwing punches and kicks at the two large goons. Most of the blows did nothing, and what hits did anything mostly helped keep distance.

By instinct, Yukitsune froze the ground around him, just as his father had advised him. G.G. attempted a slide kick on one of the enemies, but tripped up on the icy path her colleague made. After making impact with the ground once more, she slid right into the guards, eventually ramming into a wall.

“You know what?” G.G. wheezed dizzily as she rose and recuperated. “We take those…”

“M-my apologies!”

“Don’t worry about it, Inari.” With the two big fellows and all their allies incapacitated, G.G. took his hand and rushed off in the direction of where she knew Surhomme would be (countless foiled robberies gave her a decent understanding of the layout). “Now let’s go get your mentor or whatever the heck he is to you!”

While he’d drawn an easier lot, Surhomme was only having so much luck himself.

He was more than adept at handling all the conspicuous assailants who attacked him to protect their allies, and he’d picked up a vital piece of information that he’d have to relay to the kids when he’d cleaned up here.

Well, Green Genius wasn’t his kid, but the point stood.

It was more a matter of quantity than quality. There were a ridiculous amount of people attacking him from all sides, and sooner or later he was going to get swarmed…

Of course, it was nothing a couple of quick hooks couldn’t get done, but even with increased speed, there were still those few that got him just as he was about to go in for the attack. One of them grabbed his legs, and as the other one got his head, right before Sojiro was about to spread his legs and headbutt them to set himself free, he took note of the unnatural pink spirals in his foes’ eyes.

“Is this… some sort of mind control?”

“What about mind-control?” G.G. asked.

“I think these guys are all hypnotized or something,” Surhomme reasoned, “ That’s why they haven’t been trying to hide themselves!”

“Ah, that makes sense!” G.G. paused to split-kick two weaklings that charged her with pipes brandished. “… and it makes things more complicated. Who brainwashed these bozos?”

“One of your abilities is power disruption, correct?” Yukitsune asked. “Do you think you can unhypnotize them?”

“I’d have to charge up to hit them all at once,” G.G. answered, “but keep me protected and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Roger that.”

The next few minutes were entirely devoted to playing keep away with G.G. as the ball. Surhomme heard the sounds of his and Yukitsune’s powers coming together in an almost rhythmic fashion as he continued onward. He returned to the duo, taking the opposite side of the girl.

“You came…” Yukitsune gasped.

“Yeah, get used to it, kid. Now how long is this thing gonna take to charge?”

“Not too long. Just gimme a few minutes to calibrate it to hit every one of these guys!”

“Got-”

POW!

“- it.”

Yukitsune covered for the attack on his father, creating an ice wall in front of himself and sliding it forward with a kick. One of the guards approached the orange-headed girl, and Surhomme delivered another heavy punch.

“Is it ready yet, G.G.?”

“Almost!”

Surhomme felt a drop of sweat fall down his head, hoping that almost meant just a few more seconds of time to buy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yukitsune struggling to keep up with all of the goons coming his way. Just as one of them was about to jump at him to pin him down…

“Seeeeeee ya!”

A strong beam burst out from G.G.’s wrist, bouncing from one hypnotized hooligan to another until the green aura of the disabling power had surrounded and set into each and every minion. Almost in unison, they all slumped to the ground unceremoniously.

“… did it work?” Yukitsune asked.

Slowly, warily, the three heroes looked around. “… I think so.”

Police began to file into the area. As Surhomme handed over the bags of cash the brainwashed bozos had almost taken, he noticed one cop begin to handcuff an unconscious young man. “Just so you know,” he said to Lieutenant Mutō, speaking loudly enough for all the cops to hear, “we’re pretty sure these guys were all under some sort of mind-control. I don’t know if that makes them innocent, but don’t assume the worst.”

The cop wisely put his handcuffs back. It was only so long before Surhomme, Yukitsune and G.G. cleaned up what they needed to and made their exit.

“Well, good job, you two!” G.G. lauded once they were sure they were inaudible to the police and media below. She softened again as she looked at the younger gent. “Yukitsune, this was your first time, right?” At his nod, she continued, “You were amazing, and I can tell you’ve worked hard to get as good as you are. I’m guessing I’ll see you guys if trouble comes up again?”

“Perfect case record,” Surhomme smirked.

“I have civilian obligations that Surhomme holds me to, but I should appear more often than not when we’re called.”

“Oh, nice! You seem like you’re at least sorta fun, and I’m looking forward to spending time with a guy who’s more my age while I’m suited up.” Remembering what time it was, roughly, she took off. “Shoot, gotta go! Byyyyyyye!”

Not having anything else to do but go home, Yukitsune and Surhomme packed it in for the day.

And when they arrived, Akira gave Yusuke a big hug to congratulate him for a job well done. 

Days passed, and the victory had Yusuke smiling throughout the entire week, something he rarely did before. The increased morale also improved his mental health immensely, according to Takemi, increasing both his academic results, as well as motivating him to eat more.

While Yusuke was having a rather good time concerning the case, Sojiro was kind of the opposite. While not running Leblanc or teaching Akira some tricks of the supersuit-creating trade, Sojiro was spending most of his time trying to research who might be behind the brainwashing that had occurred. He needed access to sources that he couldn’t access - not with his technological know how and hacking skill (or lack thereof).

Eventually, he acknowledged that he wasn’t getting anywhere with his current mindset, and he was getting frustrated, too. He needed to burn off some steam, and badly.

He refused to blow up at Akira or Yusuke.

He figured maybe a walk around town would help him think, and by walk, he meant going for a run as Surhomme. 

The exercise was very helpful, he wouldn’t deny it. Plus, the occasional person that noticed him and gave him a thumbs-up felt good, too.

It was around sunset when he began to feel better. He looked around and took in the happy people around, those of the world he wanted to help and protect. It was peaceful.

He really needed this, didn’t he?

“Yo, old-timer! Having a bad day too?”

Startled, Surhomme whipped around, only to find the Green Genius approaching kindly. “Ah, you…” Some strange part of him - perhaps the same part that had led to him walloping Madarame after the bastard knocked her unconscious - grew concerned for her. “… what do you mean by ‘a bad day’?”

G.G. audibly scoffed. “You’re not the only one who goes for some parkour around the city on tough days. I may take my frustrations out on a petty mugger or two, go get a hot-dog, whatever.”

“Well, if you’re in the same boat, then what’s going on in your life?”

“Personal life stuff. Can’t talk about it.”

Surhomme sighed. “I respect that. You wanna talk about anything, though, be my guest.”

“Mm.” G.G. made a neutral gesture before looking back to him. “So anyway, what’s on your mind?”

A fresh perspective wouldn’t hurt. “Been looking into that robbery last week.”

“The brainwashed guys?”

“Yeah, exactly them. Someone had to have brainwashed them, right?”

“Oh, totally! There’s no way those poor guys being brainwashed is some kinda deus ex māchinā …”

Surhomme shot her a funny look. “Huh?”

“Not important. Point is, there’s definitely some guy at the center of the hive-mind.”

“Yeah, and I need to figure out who before another robbery occurs and people nearly get arrested for something beyond their control because of someone’s greed.”

“I could hack into the police interrogation recordings, if you want.”

The more chaotic alignment of the kid made Surhomme roll his eyes. “As useful as that would be, I don’t want you doing any-”

“You got your computer or whatever? I swear not to hack into it for personal usage or identity digging!”

“That’s not exactly reassuring…”

As much as he didn’t want to use such illegal means to figure this out, his curiosity (and desire for information) got the better of him. “I’ll go get it,” he acquiesced. “Do not follow me.”

To her credit, he sensed nobody watching him through the entire trip to grab his heroics laptop and back. Either the girl was keeping her word, or she was way too good at hiding.

When he returned, he found G.G. waiting for him, looking at a pop-up holographic screen of something that Surhomme was pretty sure wasn’t him, his house, or even anything in his neighborhood. “Welcome back!” she greeted, her tone perfectly natural.

Wary, Surhomme just nodded to her before opening his laptop and showing her his progress. 

“You considered hacking into police interrogations of the guys we had to beat up?” G.G. asked when she was finished looking it through.

“My skills with tech and hacking aren’t that good…”

“I can do it for you. Leave it to me!” G.G. moved the laptop to her lap. Surhomme opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “You can watch me if you’re worried I’ll heck with your tech.”

“That would be best.” Surhomme had his hand above the touchpad, ready to close out of anything too revealing.

In response, G.G. gently swatted away said hand. “Okay, not that close. I’m using incognito mode.”

“Incog-what?”

“Oh, for the love of-” She squinted at the screen, before doing a little more typing. “Aha! Here, look at this!”

Surhomme looked at the screen. Sure enough, there was a recording playing on the screen of a detective interviewing one of the people Surhomme and his fist had recognized.

“All I can remember was seeing a sign with some writing,” the poor guy said, “I don’t know what it means, because some of it used the Greek alphabet. I can try and recreate the letters, though.”

“We’ll get the forensics guy.” The officer interviewing the man nodded. 

“Okay, click ahead a bit,” Surhomme directed, peering closer. G.G. got lucky and landed on a perfect shot of the writing.

“Nā Hoʻokō no Olori-san…” Surhomme muttered. “Sounds like a cheap riddle.”

“Well, luckily for us, I enjoy riddles! I’ll put it through the wringer…”

“Heh, funny. I don’t mind riddles, either. Wish I could separate work and pleasure, though…”

“Let’s both put an effort towards finding the guy behind this. You got a superheroes’ email or number I can talk to you at?”

“Actually, yes, I do.”

“Wait, really? Sweet! Gimme a sec to set one up myself and I’ll gladly exchange it with you. I’ll even make sure to get yours protected!”

The two parted ways shortly after exchanging email addresses, with Surhomme wondering just what the heck godly powers had to do with technological and hacking skills…

One week later…

“It’s done!” Sojiro declared from his computer desk in the guests’ room.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Akira asked as he passed by. Yusuke popped his head in as well.

“Green sent me some information about the robbers.” The info G.G. had sent was the job histories of most to all of the hypnotized robbers they fought the other day (plus a few of their spouses, relatives, roommates, and more). The first image didn’t make the connection too obvious to Sojiro at first, but then the second highlighted everything. The same company, and then an article pointing out the C.E.O. of said company - one who had demoted and decried his former employees.

Okumura Foods and Okumura Kunikazu.

Chapter Text

“What’s the plan, then?” Akira giddily looked over the data and plans of take-down (saying attack felt wrong, even for this guy) that Sojiro had gathered on the well-known businessman, his stimming elbows almost bumping into Sojiro.

“I suppose we’ll need to pay him a little visit soon, won’t we?” Yusuke remarked.

“Can’t just let him keep brainwashing people to rob banks,” Sojiro pointed out. “The question rises, though: what does he need with all that money that he can’t get with his lucrative - albeit incredibly profit-focused -  business?”

“Either something that would be suspicious to find on a normal purchase history…” Akira guessed. “… or just typical greed. Who knows? Some idiots need to learn to be satisfied. Both are likely enough to be a reasonable assumption.”

“In any case, though…” Sojiro mused, “How do we confront him without others in his radius?”

A few hours later…

Akira slammed his head to his face. “Does Green Genius have camouflage abilities or something?”

As Yusuke was drawing another diagram next to a trash can of crumpled up paper, Sojiro responded, “She says she doesn’t.”

“Damn it, there goes that one…” Akira ruffled his hair constantly. He’d been scanning the floor to check for dandruff when he lit up again. “I got it! Dad disguises himself as a normal employee. Green Genius gets into the security system and makes it seem like he’s just some guy with a fake name. Okumura probably doesn’t care about his employees, so he wouldn’t care about one he doesn’t remember hiring. Dad then looks for proof that he has mind-control abilities, gets out without being detected, and boom! Another day in Tokyo for us!”

“Am I gonna have to hide my suit under the uniform in case he finds me out?” Sojiro pointed out.

“Yeah! You’d dramatically rip it off, the two of you fight, you could hide your mask under a hat and…” Akira sighed as Yusuke threw another paper in the trash. “Ugh, that sounded so much better in my head!” Akira took off his glasses just to bury his face in his hands and groan. “I’m out of ideas…”

Yusuke rolled over to Akira in his chair to hug him. “It’s okay, brother. I am sure this next diagram I create will be the one used to take down Okumura, especially after G.G. gave us the floor plans for the headquarters-”

“Success from Mr. How About We Build A Catapult ?”

Yusuke merely glared.

“Hmm…” Sojiro muttered, breaking up his kids’ squabbling. “What if we brought him to us instead? After all, we can’t just rush into his workplace. If he can mind-control people, it might be best to get him into a secondary location.”

“And if there’s no one around, he won’t be able to use his powers…”

“Exactly!”

“It makes sense, Dad,” Yusuke agreed, “but how do we do that?”

Sojiro smirked. “We’ll find a way. For now, let’s get Green Genius in on the final plan. I get the feeling we’ll need all the help we can get.”

Unfortunately, finding her was the smoothest part of the plan.

Okumura had led them right into what may as well have been a brainwashed civilian storage facility. A far cry from what Akira imagined as an ‘empty’ place for them to do battle, but it worked. All they needed was a way to get those guys out of the picture. Fortunately, having former governmental ties meant it was easier than it should have been getting into the legal side of someone’s head.

“Muahahaha!” Okumura cackled, tapping his glasses and sneering down at Surhomme, Yukitsune and Green Genius as mechanical arms shot out from the temples to put a strange helmet on his head. “Behold, the Astronomyx Hat. Hmhmhmhmhm…  having three superhumans under my control will make us all but indestructible !” Psychic energy emanated around his body, lifting him off the floor and taking him to a rafter as he made his leave, undoubtedly planning to strike from the shadows. 

Turning to the police, Surhomme ordered, “Get all the other civilians out of here, then come back. We’ll hold Okumura until then!”

“You sure?” Lieutenant Mutō checked. Even so, he was already herding the rest of his forces out.

“You guys aren’t agile enough to dodge the average brainwashing beam,” G.G. pointed out impatiently. “There’s already a ton of people he’s holed up here - but watch the perimeter in case he tries to escape.”

Mutō understood. The brainwashed civvies were liabilities already - giving Okumura ones with guns and combat training couldn’t be much better. At this point, the most important thing was minimizing civilian casualties and limiting any major damage to the nearby homes and businesses. It wasn’t much good to fight full-force if it meant causing millions of yen worth of property damage.

Green Genius could disable the mind control of a few people at a time, leaving it to Surhomme and Yukitsune to attempt to evacuate them as they went. One of Yukitsune’s newer moves, summoning snow, came in very handy for cushioning the freed civilians as Surhomme raced them out the building.

Eventually, Green Genius began to tire. Staggering back, her head spinning a bit, she muttered, “We can’t keep going like this…”

Surhomme scowled, surveying the crowd of mindless civilians below him. “What else do you suggest?”

“I’m picking up a reading from the top floor!” Yoaki supplied. “Let me dig into the security cameras and…”

Surhomme batted off another drone, holding their arms so that Green Genius could disable the mind control. “Yoaki?”

“Okumura’s on the top floor with… some sort of mechanical device. Must be that hat he showed off earlier.”

“Destroying that device might be enough to relinquish his control of these people,” Yukitsune interjected.

“Oh yeah, good idea!” Green Genius hopped over another civilian, knocking them to the ground. It reminded Sojiro of leapfrog, a game that Akira had been especially fond of as a child. “Take them out at the source! Basic Mob Boss strat!”

Not for the first time, Surhomme felt as though Green Genius was speaking a foreign language.

“Okay… I will-”

“Hell no, old man!” Green Genius teleported over to where Surhomme was standing. “I’m not letting you get all the credit! Okumura is at least 50% my bad guy! Maybe 30% if you include Yukitsune and Yoaki…”

“And none for me?” Surhomme deadpanned.

“Nope~!”

“Kids these days… so cruel .”

“You two do as you must,” Yukitsune shouted. “I will do my best to… corral this unruly crowd.”

Nodding stiffly, Surhomme attempted to keep his paternal affection from showing on his face. He was only minorly successful. 

Kunikazu’s office was as ostentatious as the man himself. The various trappings of wealth made Surhomme deeply uncomfortable. How much had Kunikazu done to get where he was today? How many people had suffered? Was it worth it?

When Surhomme kicked the door down (they could have had G.G. pick the lock, but Surhomme wanted to send a message), Kunikazu scrambled behind his desk, pushing a button on his collar. “They’re here. The plan was a failure. Activate the explosives!”

“And what about you, President Okumura?” a voice called to him through his communicator.

“JUST DO IT! THAT’S AN ORDER!” he screamed, just as Surhomme picked up his hiding spot and tossed it aside. “How long do you think your feeble attempts are going to last?” he taunted. “I can go all day.”

“Long enough to keep you busy.”

“Good…” Kunikazu grinned ominously. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

An alarm began blaring through the building with an ominous voice yelling, “Supernova sequence initiated. Evacuate the premises immediately.”

“ Supernova ?” scowled Surhomme.

“Why don’t you stick around and find out?”

“He’s activated a self-destruct sequence in the building!” G.G. informed him as she pounced from behind, attempting to wrest the Astronomyx Hat from his head.

“Oh, come on, now!” grunted Kunikazu as he shoved her off of him. “Must you ruin the surprise?”

Surhomme gritted his teeth. “Motherf–” he groaned. Pressing to his communicator, he urgently switched to Yukitsune’s line. “Kid, I need you to get the hell out of here. This place is going down.”

“What? What about you? And Green Genius?”

“We’ll make it out alive, promise. You may have powers, but you’re not invincible.” Surhomme faltered for a moment. “I… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“… I’ll do my best, Father.”

“You’re awfully tender with that brat,” Kunikazu sneered. Green Genius had disarmed him of the Astronomyx Hat, and was attempting to hold his arms behind his back. “Is he one of yours?”

“What if he is?”

“None of my business. You’re lucky your kid gives you the time of fucking day.” Kunikazu spat at Surhomme’s feet, saliva mixed with blood. “I sure wouldn’t. Now, here’s the deal: there are two hundred people in this building. Those bombs are set to go off in two minutes.” Kunikazu glared Surhomme down. “How many do you think you’ll be able to save?”

Surhomme desperately wanted to punch the man, but he held himself back.

“How about you, kid? You rather beat me up than save people? That make you a better hero?”

“Why? Why put your life in danger like this?” Surhomme demanded, his hands shaking. 

There had to have been a better way. Why did it have to end like this?

“Maybe I die here today; maybe I’ll get away scot-free. I suppose there’s no way to know which it will be.” There was an oddly distant look in his eyes, the look of a man with nothing to lose. “Now, you must make your own choice: me or the rest of the people in this building-”

A chop to the back of the head knocked him out. “Can you carry him?” G.G. asked. “We’re gonna save them all.” Something very sad crossed her face for a moment as Surhomme hefted Kunikazu up. “It’s the best thing we can do, right?”

Surhomme nodded. “That it is, kid.”

With G.G. carrying the helmet and Surhomme carrying its former owner, the duo of superheroes descended down the building as quickly as they could. 

“You’ve got twenty seconds!” Yoaki shouted into Surhomme’s ear. “ Dad !”

“We’re getting out, Yoaki!” Surhomme shouted, kicking out a nearby window and hovering out. “Is Yukitsune safe?”

“I think so!”

“You think so ?”

“I don’t know! He said he was gonna try to contain the boom  before we lost connection!”

Surhomme whipped around just in time to see a glacier-sized hunk of ice springing up around the building, nanoseconds before the explosives went off. The ice cushioned most of the block from the effects of the explosion, coating the streets in a fine layer of ice and snow as it blew up.

The second his feet hit the ground, Surhomme dumped the cruel C.E.O. and surged towards the building. “Oh, shit, Inari!” G.G. hissed, following after him.

In their frenzied state, neither of them noticed the cloaked figure approaching Kunikazu.

Blinking back into consciousness, Kunikazu attempted to sit up. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurry. 

Where had he…? What was going on?

The glint of something mental came into the periphery of his vision, making Kunikazu tense up. He raised his head to look his assailant in the eyes. “The Captain sends his regards,” stated the masked stranger, leveling a gun between Kunikazu’s eyes. “May there be no mercy for your soul.”

Then, a bullet shut Kunikazu’s eyes forever.

Clawing through the snow and ice, Surhomme silently prayed that they weren’t too late. Yusuke had only been his son for a few short weeks, but it felt like they’d been family for much longer. If he had lost him today through his own carelessness… he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Green Genius attempted to haul Surhomme away from the ice, but he fought back against her, continuing to dig. 

“Surhomme, he’s not here.”

“He has to be here!” Surhomme snarled. “I’m not giving up on him. On my son. He’s too… fuck , he’s too important to me.”

“You… really care about him? Even though he isn’t yours?”

“Of course I-”

“Surhomme!” Yoaki’s voice was trembling as it came over the comm. “Yukitsune’s here. He’s okay!”

Surhomme felt all the tension dissipate from his shoulders as he fell to his knees. “Thank you, Aki.”

“Speaking of… we, uh... we've got a guest.”

“A guest?”

“It’s easier if you see for yourself. Can you get back to Leblanc?”

Surhomme nodded. Looking at the redhead, he asked, “Found Yukitsune. Could you…?”

“Deal with the press and the cops? Sure!”

As Surhomme took off in the direction of wherever he lived, G.G. smiled sadly. “Get to your son, I’m sure he needs you. No kid ought to feel like their parents abandoned them.”

Chapter Text

When Yukitsune woke up in a stranger's arms, he tried to wrench himself from their grasp, only to feel a strange sensation at the back of his mind, something probing and exploratory. Despite this, it didn’t feel wrong in any way. He felt inclined to let the stranger in, even if he didn’t know them.

“Do not worry,” said the stranger, voice quiet and feminine. “I will not look anywhere you do not want me to. I understand the need for secrets in your line of work.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Yukitsune allowed the stranger into his mind. They took a moment to consider what they saw there, before stating, “I know that coffee shop…! I can take you there, if you wish. Is there someone who’s waiting for you?”

“M-My bro-brother.” Yukitsune’s teeth were chattering from the cold, and every syllable was a strain. 

“Please, don’t speak too much,” said the stranger. “You were badly affected by the blast. It may take a few days for you to fully recover.”

It was only then that Yukitsune realized that the stranger had not opened her mouth for their entire conversation. You’re not speaking, and yet I can hear you…?

Correct.

That shouldn’t be possible.

Neither is cryokinesis, and yet here we are. The world has a way of pulling inexplicable events out of thin air, don’t you think?

Yukitsune managed to nod at that, wincing as he did so. My head hurts.

That would be the concussion. You should go to sleep.

Okay.

Haru kept the image of the cafe fresh in her mind, reminding herself of the times she used to go there during… its last owner’s time. She let out a tear after reminding herself that she was going in alone this time, yet upon hearing that familiar bell, the tranquility Leblanc had provided all came flooding back to her.

A dark-haired young man appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking harried, and when he saw Haru carrying the young vigilante, his eyes went wide. “Is he okay?”

Haru nodded. “He’s hurt, but he’ll be okay.”

The young man swept Yukitsune into his arms, holding him close. Haru knew she had made the right decision bringing Yukitsune to Leblanc. The amount of fraternal affection pouring off Yukitsune and his ally was obvious.

“Surhomme! Yukitsune’s here. He’s okay!”

Someone said something on the other end of the comms - Haru cursed her inability to parse conversations that involved technology - and the dark-haired young man added, “Speaking of… you’ve got a guest. It’s easier if you see for yourself. Can you get back to Leblanc?”

Once the man hung up, he immediately told Haru, “Thank you so much, you don’t know how much this means to me. I’m guessing you were at the crash site, so, uh…” He went over to the coffee machine. “Don’t tell my dad, but let me make you something - however you like it, on the house.”

“Oh, no, I can definitely pay for it. I could tip you, too!” Haru informed him as she put the man in her hands down into a booth. “It’s no trouble, I swear!”

“If you say so.” The barista rolled his eyes affectionately. “Just keep an eye on him, please. What would you like?”

“Just one of the scones, please. Perhaps a latte, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Got it.” As he fetched the pastry, he introduced himself. “By the way, I’m Sakura Akira, but if you’re gonna be talking to Boss, it might be easier to call me Akira.”

“Oh, do you have the same last name?”

“Yep!” Akira narrowed his eyes playfully. “I bet you can figure out how, right?”

Haru narrowed her eyes, focussing into Akira’s mind. “… he’s your father, isn’t he?”

“Bingo! I should've guessed you had some kinda ability going on. Mind reading or whatever. How else would you have known to bring Yu-Yu here?”

“I understand that you probably would have preferred if he kept his memories private, given your line of work - but I was concerned for his safety. I hope you can forgive me.”

“To tell you a secret, it’s not me you’ve got to be worried. Sojiro is the Papa Bear in this house, but as long as he knows you mean well, you should be fine.”

“Good to know.”

She heard the bell ring again, this time seeing a strangely familiar man scramble in. Ah, he was one of the newer vigilantes that had shown up, wasn’t he?

“Speak of the devil, there he is!” Akira said, a forced smile on his face. “You alright, old man?”

“Where is he? Where’s Yus-” His eyes fell upon Haru. “- er, Yukitsune?”

“Don’t bother with the codenames. She knows.”

“She knows?! And you didn’t lead with that?” Sojiro removed his helmet and mask, running a hand through his hair. “Goddammit, Akira…”

“I don’t mean any harm,” Haru said softly. “Your son was badly hurt, and I knew that I would be able to find his home - his family - if I probed into his memories. I didn’t go any deeper than I had to, I-I promise… please don’t be angry.”

“You did what?” Sojiro asked. He wasn’t angry, moreso confused, and he hoped that transferred.

“I suppose if anyone would understand, it would be you…” Haru sighed, knocking on the back door of Sojiro’s mind. Hesitant but curious, Sojiro let her in. In addition to my telepathic abilities, I am able to probe memories and thoughts. I also have the ability to read emotions, among another offensive ability, but those are… unchanneled. I don’t like using my powers most of the time…

Smiling shyly at Sojiro, Haru spoke, “… but in layman’s terms, yes, I can read minds. I promise I mean no harm, and I don’t intend to tell anyone your identity. I know trusting me isn’t easy to do, and I’m willing to prove myself in any way-”

“Easy, girlie,” Sojiro assured her. “You’re right that I don’t know you that well. But maybe I can come to trust you, if you're willing to earn it.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I run this cafe, you know. How do you feel about part-timing? Most kids your age are always looking to earn some cash, and we’ll get to know each other and all, yeah?”

Haru’s eyes sparkled. “That’s perfect! I’m actually a Culinary major, so this would be more than ideal. It almost feels unfair, honestly…”

“Really? Culinary is my minor!” Akira piped up. “Wonder how we haven’t met yet…”

Haru shrugged. “Perhaps we have different time slots with the same professors… we’ll have to talk at school more often if we see each other-”

By some twist of fate, Yusuke chose that precise moment to wake up, trying to stagger to his feet and almost falling over. “Akira? What… what happened?”

“What happened is that you put yourself in a stupid amount of danger,” Akira grumbled. “We could have found another way to soften the explosion…”

“... I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologize for that, kid,” Sojiro interjected. “Self-sacrifice… that’s what heroes do.”

“Maybe when you have regenerative abilities,” Akira snarked. “Just don’t worry us like that again, Yusu. If we hadn’t found you…”

“Oh, right… How did I get back to Leblanc? Last I remember, I was caught in the blast, and then…” Yusuke’s gaze drifted over to Haru. “It’s you!”

Haru gave a tiny wave, a sheepish look on her face. “H-Hi…”

“Don’t worry, she knows,” Sojiro informed him.

“I’ll say. With an ability like hers, I would be more surprised if she didn’t.” Yusuke was deep in thought for a moment. “Would it be strange to say that I enjoyed the way your thoughts felt? I would have expected having my mind read to be more… invasive.”

“I try not to force myself into people’s minds. It can be dangerous, if I go the wrong way, and I don’t want to hurt anyone. Asking permission to enter tends to work.”

“Fascinating…” Yusuke murmured, reaching for his sketchbook. “Truly fascinating!”

“Welp, you’ve got Yu-Yu going. He’s gonna be busy with that for the next couple hours,” Akira said, lighthearted. “You want to stick around for a bit?”

“If you’ll have me,” Haru said softly, sitting down at the bar. “Oh, and where are my manners? My name is Shōgaiyama Haru.”

They ended up spending a quiet afternoon together, with Haru watching Akira and Sojiro work in tandem to serve their customers.

When a particularly pompous windbag Akira wasn’t a fan of finally left, Akira slumped against the bar. “Geez, I thought he’d never leave…”

“You seem quite busy.”

“Dad’s curry isn’t exactly famous, but it’s getting pretty popular. We get a surprising amount of business, especially in the evenings.”

“Is that so?” Haru asked.

“You got it,” Sojiro interjected. “Been meaning to hire another part-time worker, but I never got around to putting the job listing up.” His mind drifted to the Green Genius and how, in spite of her exuberant personality, she would fit right in at Leblanc.

But the girl was a loner, and he didn’t even know her identity.

“Haru could help,” Akira said. “You’re a culinary major and everything, right?”

“Now that’s an idea!” Sojiro remarked. “Would you be down with that? I’d like to keep an eye on you, too…”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s about your safety,” Sojiro informed her. “Yusuke here wasn’t exactly in the best place when he came into our lives, and his powers didn’t make things any easier. Think of your job at Leblanc as less of a job and more of a… place of safety concerning your powers. You can talk to us if you ever need to vent about this stuff. The last thing someone like you needs is a lack of support when you mess up with your abilities…”

Haru wiped away a tear. “Thank you, sir. I promise I’ll tell you if I need anything…”

While Haru had been well-adjusted to the actual cafe part of Leblanc by this point, she didn’t think she’d ever adjust to the more hidden parts about the location. The news channel Sojiro had on to alert Akira of any crimes he’d need to take over for was usually just a blur in Haru’s ears, not helped by the fact that having an extra pair of hands around meant the rush to make up for his absence wasn’t as intense.

Today, thankfully, Haru was only washing dishes.

“We would like to update people on the situation happening with Okumura Foods and the whereabouts of their C.E.O., Kunikazu Okumura.”

Haru immediately turned their head over to the TV. Sojiro didn’t miss how she strangely paid close attention to it.

“We regret to inform you that Okumura’s body has been found in the rubble of the former Okumura Foods headquarters, which collapsed a week ago during an investigation assisted by local heroes Surhomme and Green Genius. It is believed that he perished on the day of the accident. Due to the quick action of Surhomme, Green Genius and a relative newcomer seen operating with Surhomme under the name of Yukitsune, damages were otherwise limited. Okumura remains the sole sum of the death count.”

“Oh, shit…!” Sojiro muttered. When the hell did that happen? Didn’t they take him to the police?

There was little doubt that Sae would be paying him a visit soon enough. He should have done something. He should have saved Mr. Okumura, but he was too focused on finding Yusuke. This was all his fault…

Sojiro was snapped out of his thoughts when the plate Haru had been scrubbing slipped from her hand, making it shatter on the ground. “Haru? Are you okay?”

“He’s… gone…” Haru whispered. Then, she broke down sobbing.

Chapter Text

Neither Akira, Sojiro nor Yusuke had no idea what was happening. One minute, Haru had been completely fine, and the next, she was sobbing her heart out. He carefully guided her away from the shattered ceramic plate she had dropped, not wanting her to accidentally cut herself on the sherds.

“I was hoping you’d never have to know…” Haru managed to choke out. “I just wanted to move on from it all…”

“Haru? What do you mean…?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she told him, still sobbing. “I’m okay.”

“Kid, you’re sobbing your eyes out in the middle of the cafe,” Sojiro countered. “Something’s clearly wrong.”

“If there’s something you need to tell us about Okumura, we’ll understand,” Yusuke offered.

“I don’t know why I’m so upset,” Haru said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “It isn’t as though he’s my family anymore…”

“Anymore?” Sojiro repeated.

“I-I’ve already said far too much. My apologies, I should leave. I know you probably won’t want to speak to me anymore, so-”

“Kid, take a look in my head.”

Haru tilted her head in Sojiro’s direction; she would have looked directly at him, but she couldn’t see that well through her tears. “Pardon?”

“Go on, take a look. Tell me what you see.”

Haru was quiet for a moment. “You’re concerned… for me? But… why?”

“We know there’s something personal between you and Okumura, and it's clearly affecting you. Haru, I know I can be scary, but I don’t bite.”

Haru snorted. “... you’re not that scary.”

“Huh?”

“I can see inside your head, remember? Your mind isn’t nearly as frightening as you think it is.”

“I’m… gonna choose to take that as a compliment.”

“It is one, for the record.” Though Haru’s voice was stiff with tears, Sojiro could tell that she was trying to be light-hearted about it. “I’m not going to get out of explaining this, am I?”

“Well, you can. You don’t owe us anything. I just wouldn’t recommend doing so for your sake.”

Haru turned to Akira. “Is everyone in your family so emotionally mature?”

“Jury’s still out on Yusuke,” Akira joked, causing the other two men to shoot him a withering look. “Kidding! Obviously!”

Haru took a breath to collect herself. “I inherited my telepathic abilities from my late mother. She died in childbirth, and I don’t think my father ever forgave me for it…

“Your father?” Yusuke murmured. Haru only looked back at the TV for a second before she had to shield her eyes from the sight. “Oh, Haru…”

“So you used to be Okumura Haru…?”

Haru gave a sad, slow nod. “Okumura Kunikazu was my father, but he never felt much like a parent. I was always a burden to him, right up until my abilities manifested, and suddenly… he was interested in me again. A little too interested, and for all the wrong reasons. I do not like forcing my abilities on others - it's a boundary I try not to cross - but Father didn’t care. He forced me to use my telepathy and empathy for… immoral reasons. Spying on competitors, blackmail… it felt like nothing was too low for him.”

“He always told me that was my only purpose. My way to repay him for taking my mother from him.  It was probably the only reason he kept me around, too - because he saw worth in me. That’s - that was all that mattered to him, gains and losses. When I finally had enough and said no, he hardly blinked before beginning to make preparations for my departure and legal disowning. He’d even picked out a new surname for me. The Shōgai part is supposed to mean impediment or obstacle - I don’t know if he was implying I was just a burden on him or if he was gloating about being something I couldn’t surmount in my lifetime.”

“No wonder you said you didn’t need the money…” Akira mused.

“I’m glad he left me enough to comfortably survive on my own, but… it doesn’t erase what he made me do- no, what I did. I had a choice, didn’t I?”

Sojiro slowly moved around the counter. “Oh, kid… it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was!” Haru wiped the beginnings of another round of tears from her eyes. “I should have stopped him before he did all this! Before he went off the deep end and hurt all these people! BEFORE HE DIED!” After that outburst of emotion, Haru lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m responsible for both of my parents’ deaths now… I’m the worst daughter ever…”

Elsewhere in Tokyo, Futaba sneezed.

Sojiro didn’t need to be an empath to feel the tidal waves of distress and grief pouring off Haru. Though Akira had always been fond of physical comfort, he had no way of knowing if Haru would appreciate that or not, so he decided to ask.

“Do you want a hug, kid?”

Haru looked up at him with wide eyes, brimming with tears. “Would you mind…?”

Sojiro could never say no when either of his kids looked at him like that. “Alright, come here.”

Briefly, he wondered when Haru had become included in that category. 

By some small miracle, Haru seemed to be comfortable in Sojiro’s arms. Perhaps it was because she knew he meant well.

“You’re not a bad kid, Haru.” They were way past the threshold for last names now, weren't they?

Haru shook her head as she sobbed into his chest. “Bad daughter… ‘m such a bad daughter…”

“You’ve made the best out of a horrible situation, and you’ve given so much love to someone who never deserved it. Okumura stopped being your father when he disowned you; you stopped owing him anything then, too…”

“Then why does it hurt so much?”

Sojiro hesitated. “It always hurts to lose people, even if they’re not right for you…”

It wasn’t quite the same, but he and Wakaba hadn’t been right for each other at first. He’d been meaning to try and confess once it got better, but she was ripped away from him before he got the chance. Now he’d never know how she felt.

“... who’s Wakaba?” Haru whispered. “S-Sorry, it's hard to turn it off right now. I would if I could, promise.”

Sojiro patted her on the back. “It’s okay, I understand. She was someone I really cared about. Now isn’t the right time to explain, though…”

“… okay.” A moment passed before she mumbled, “Can you keep holding me?” 

“Of course. Boys?”

Akira and Yusuke joined the hug, and Haru wept until she couldn’t weep any further.

The day that they held Kunikazu’s funeral, it had rained for hours. It always seemed to do that during funerals, didn’t it?

They were lucky to have anything to bury, all things considered. Whoever had killed Kunikazu had left his body to be found, and even if it was only one bullet that killed him, the funeral was still closed-casket. Sojiro didn’t want Haru to see the bullet-hole, and Haru silently agreed. She wouldn’t have wanted to see that either. 

Remarkably few people came. Haru supposed that made sense; Kunikazu had never really been one for friends, and he only had a few close business associates; furthermore, his actions with that strange hat had made him plenty of enemies. It checked out that most people would want to wash their hands clean of Tokyo’s latest villain of the week.

One of the few guests who actually showed up was Sapporo’s mayor Hyodo Mariko, who had journeyed to Tokyo with the sole intention of all but literally spitting on Kunikazu’s grave. She had offered Haru her condolences, though.

“I never liked the way he treated you, sweetheart. You deserved better…” Hyodo said. 

Haru gave Hyodo a tight smile. “Thank you, genuinely.”

“Are you going to be alright from here?” Hyodo inquired. “I’ll support you if you’re in need.”

“I’d certainly like to exchange numbers, but…” Haru glanced towards the Sakuras, who she’d invited for emotional support. “… I think I’ll be all right with the support I have in Tokyo. I greatly appreciate the offer, though.”

As they finally lowered Kunikazu’s casket into the ground, Haru blinked away tears. “This feels so… final,” she mumbled. “Oh, god… I can’t do this.”

Reaching for the nearest Sakura, which ended up being Akira, Haru hid her face in his shoulder, not wanting to watch as her father was laid to rest.

The only real comfort she had was the patient affection coming from Sojiro, Akira and Yusuke.

As hard as things felt right now, the Sakuras made it easier.

Haru’s eyes were still wide awake the night after the funeral. The thoughts of both her and other people outside were swirling around in her head, and she couldn’t compose herself enough to drown it out.

One thought, however, came through to Haru more than the others.

“ Would Haru even want to be adopted right now? She certainly would be able to make use of it, but she’s still fresh off the loss of her last family member. I’ll ask some day in the future… ”

That was Sojiro’s voice.

Now another thing had been added to the growing list of thoughts Haru had to think about. She had already been living with Sojiro for months by now, even if she still had a whole other apartment.

He… he wanted to adopt her?

Against her better judgment, Haru decided to head downstairs to see him.

“Oh, Haru. Didn’t think you’d be up so late…”

“Couldn’t sleep…” she mumbled. “I… heard what you thought about, though.”

“Ah, that explains it…” Sojiro let out a sigh. “I really do apologize if you don’t want it, by the way. Was just an idea on my mind lately.”

“I-”

“Nope. It’s almost 11:20 at night, and you’re still grieving your biological father’s death. I’m not asking you to make a decision anytime soon.”

Haru was silent for a moment before her face twisted into a bitter frown. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not saying this because you want an answer now, isn’t it?”

Sojiro looked up from the book he’d been reading - something on fashion trends from the 50s. “Pardon me?”

“I would love to be part of your family,” Haru said firmly. “I want that, if it’s not too greedy of me.”

“It’s not greedy at all, I promise you.”

Haru nodded in understanding. “I’m glad to hear that, but… you’re also right that I shouldn’t start thinking about that yet. In the future, yes, but not now - a-and only if you really want it, and if your sons are okay with it too, and…”

Sojiro cut her off with a hug. “I can’t replace your father, and I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. You’re a part of the family, Haru, and we’ll make it official whenever you’re ready.”

Haru began to cry once again in her new father’s arms, with Sojiro running his hand through her immensely curly hair.

Haru didn’t care how much she disliked how she couldn’t tune out people’s thoughts when her emotions got the better of her.

Right now, she just wanted to be Sakura Haru… how tragic that she needed to wait.

Chapter Text

Haru had been given plenty of time to grieve, and as it went on, her sobbing at any incurred memory became less frequent. She had often found herself coping with the loss by mingling with Leblanc’s customers. As her siblings-to-be took shifts more often with more hands around, she was given more time to simply observe. She rarely prodded far into people's heads, but it was still interesting to watch how Leblanc's guests interacted. Apparently, Yusuke had a similar love of people-watching, and it became one of their favorite bonding activities. As an only child with no real friends, Haru had been rather lonely, so she enjoyed having built-in companions in the form of her siblings. Akira liked to join in, even if he was a lot less perceptive.

“What about those two?” Akira whispered, nudging Haru’s arm and pointing at the two young women sitting in a booth.

“Dating,” Haru whispered back, with zero hesitation. “That, or they’re both crushing on each other. Poor dears probably think it’s unrequited.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“I have been getting better at it lately,” Haru told him, almost preening. “When I was little, my father was worried I wouldn’t develop proper social skills if I relied on my power too often. It’s one of the reasons I try not to use it as much.”

“Makes sense. Sometimes I ask dad to grab something and he tells me to get it myself so I don’t get too lazy.”

Yusuke looked up from his sketchbook. “At least six months, if they are together. If not, they've been close for a few years.”

“You seem… pretty confident,” Akira snickered.

Yusuke shrugged. “Romantic relationships are simple. I may not be interested in any at the moment, but that does not mean I don't understand them.”

Haru hummed, looking at Akira as she stirred a pot of curry. “Do you know these two, Akira?”

“Heh… did you need to read me, or was it a guess?” Akira laughed. “Want me to introduce you? You may not be my sister legally yet, so if you don’t want to…”

“N-No, I’d like to…”

Akira tilted his head at Haru’s sudden shyness but said nothing of it as he brought out two coffees. “Welcome back, Makoto. You’ve gotten busy since we last spoke, huh?”

“Huh? Oh, Akira!” the shorter-haired woman said, regaining her composure fast. “Sorry, it’s been a while. I see you’ve gotten busy yourself.”

“Yeah, you know how Dad is. All in all, I’d say I’ve actually had more time now that we got more hands on deck.”

“Good, good. How are your classes?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Kawakami-sensei actually chose me for a tutoring program!”

“Really? Wow…”

“I remember having a tutor myself,” stated Makoto’s friend, girlfriend, crush, whatever she was. “My mother was always one to try to get my grades up by any means necessary. I’m very thankful my tutor was nicer than she was…”

Akira hummed in understanding. “Ah, where are my manners? Sakura Akira, Boss’ son.”

“Togo Hifumi, Makoto’s girlfriend.”

Well, that answered that.

“Good to know!” Akira said cheerfully. “You're a very lucky lady, Ms. Togo.”

Hifumi looked a little flustered before nodding. “Truly, I am blessed.”

It was enough to make Akira a little jealous. Yusuke pondered bringing up his crushes on a Sakamoto and a Yoshizawa - another Education major going into P.E and his best friend, who was a gymnastics T.A. - but he decided against it, wanting Akira to go at his own pace, and not wanting to rush him.

“Hey, Mako?” Akira said, breaking out his best puppy-dog eyes. “Can I talk to you really quick before you and Togo go?”

“If you’re going to confess your undying love for me, you’ll be sorely disappointed,” Makoto snarked, “and about five years too late.”

Akira barked out a laugh. “Yeah, nothing like that, I promise.”

“Good to know.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you two to your date,” Akira said, giving Hifumi an approving nod of acknowledgement as he headed back behind the counter. Haru was curious about what Akira wanted to say, so she poked into his head. Akira had been getting better at noticing when Haru wanted to read his mind, so he gave her a soft smile and nodded.

“Why did you ask to talk to Niijima?”

“I thought it would be good for you to practice reading other people’s minds. Don’t want to get used to only me, Dad and Yusuke, right?”

“Hmmm… good point.”

Haru nodded, and Akira gave her a little thumbs-up as he got back to work.

Half an hour later, Haru officially had Makoto’s phone number, with plans for them to meet up again later that week, ostensibly so that Haru could make some new friends. The idea definitely didn’t make her stomach swoop with excitement, that was for sure!

Three instances of time spent with both Makoto and Hifumi later, Haru started silently freaking out about the nature of her and the two’s relationship.

Getting a crush on Makoto or Hifumi would be a terrible idea. She had a girlfriend already, and Haru didn’t want to be in the business of breaking up a perfectly happy couple. She could feel their love for each other, being able to read emotions as well as minds when she wanted to, and she didn’t want to be like one of Father’s associates, Sugimura Rikio, who had flirted with many married and taken women, and generally treated them like conquests at his most respectful.

She’d managed to hide her feelings from everyone, her family-to-be included, until one dinner where Sojiro mentioned helping the Niijimas finally settle things with the Dark Sun Burglars. “Speaking of the Niijimas, the younger of ‘em and her girlfriend came by while you had that rescheduled class on Monday,” he’d said. “She and Hifumi were asking to talk to you - said it was important but not urgent.”

“Oh, umm… good.”

Haru tried to school her expression, but she must have done a rotten job at it, because Akira noticed something was wrong almost immediately. “What's up?”

Haru immediately promised, “Nothing’s wrong, I swear.”

“Haru, girl, I don’t need to be an empath to tell that something’s bugging you,” Akira said. “Come on, spill.”

Haru furrowed her eyebrows. “Spill what?”

“It’s a slang expression,” Yusuke interjected. “It means to tell the truth.”

“Well, that’s the problem with spilling something, you can’t always… put it back into the cup afterwards,” Haru mumbled, imagining trying to scoop spilled tea back into her favorite teacup.

“Um… how about we talk about something else!” Haru stuttered. “Like… oh yeah, can I… join you and Yusuke? I-In the crime fighting business?”

“Are you sure?” Sojiro frowned. “I mean… I’ve got no problem with that, as long as you accept we’re not starting right away. We haven’t even sorted out your adoption yet… still, it feels like you’re not telling us something. Trust and honesty are important in a team.”

Haru shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t… I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“No one’s going to be mad. It’s not a huge deal if you don’t want to be friends with Makoto and Hifumi anymore, and-”

“That’s the problem. I… I want to be more than friends! But… they’re already together, a-and I don’t want to ruin that!”

Yusuke spoke first after a moment. “Do you want help scripting?”

Haru looked up at Yusuke. “… wait, you’re not disgusted with me?”

Akira seemed remarkably unfazed. “No? I mean, polyamory’s a thing, so… yeah. It’s cool.”

“Polyamory? Like… dating them both? That’s allowed?”

Sojiro nodded. “I mean, if they’re not interested, that’s that, but I don’t think there’s any harm in trying. You’re young, still - who knows if you’ll get another chance?”

“I don’t know how they feel about me, if I’m being completely honest.”

“Well… what do you feel around them?” 

“A sort of… twisty feeling, like my stomach’s in knots. It’s similar to anxiety, but more pleasant. Do… do I make them anxious? Oh, god, do they hate me?”

Sojiro merely chuckled, keeping her from spiraling. “Let me guess: sort of like butterflies in your stomach?”

“Yes?”

“Kid, I’m pretty sure what you’re feeling is a crush. Well, two crushes. Probably on you, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“Oh…” Haru very slowly stood up, tucking her chair back under the table. “I am going to make a phone call and arrange to meet them in person. I’ll do my dishes first, though.”

“Good idea. Let us know how it goes?”

“I promise.”

Haru grabbed her keys and wallet, just in case, and hurried out Leblanc’s doors. While waiting for the train to the area where Makoto and Hifumi lived, she called them.

Makoto picked up on the first ring. “Good evening, Haru. Is everything okay?”

“Mostly, yes. I promise I’m in no danger… is Hifumi with you at the moment? And are you at home?”

“Yes, we are. Is something wrong?”

“Um… how did Dad tell me you said it… it’s important, but not urgent?”

Makoto was silent for a moment, and Haru began to think she’d misunderstood after all. But then… “I’ll let Hifumi know you’re coming over!”

Haru smiled softly. “I think that would be for the best.”

As she boarded the train, the older woman she’d been sitting next to on the benches tapped her lightly. “If you love them, don’t let go.”

Haru gave her a proud nod. “Yes, ma’am!”

By the time that Haru returned home, it was almost 11, and Akira was about to text Haru to check if she was okay, when the front door opened, and Haru drifted in. Her cheeks were pink, and she couldn’t stop giggling as she flopped down on the couch. 

“I take it that things went well?” Akira teased. 

“There was so much love between us,” Haru sighed dreamily. “It was absolutely wonderful! I wanted to stay the night, but I didn’t want you worrying over me.”

“You could have just texted and let us know,” Yusuke remarked. Haru blanched at her blunder, but Yusuke added, “On the bright side, this means you get to tell us about how it went in person.”

The young woman lit up. “Oh, I’d love to!”

Launching into the story, Haru couldn’t help but smile at the fond familial feelings she was feeling from Akira and Yusuke. It was a shame that Sojiro was asleep in bed…

Chapter Text

On Haru and her partners’ third official date, she came home in a terrible huff and with slightly frazzled hair. Surhomme and Yukitsune were out and dealing with another robbery, the likes of which had taken a sudden uptick in frequency lately, so only Akira was there.

Since it was late, and nobody had patronized Leblanc, Akira was at Haru’s side immediately. “You wanna talk about it?”

Haru shot Akira a glare that melted away after only a moment. “I swear, you’d think you were the mind-reader sometimes…”

Akira gave her an easygoing grin. “I’m the only one without any powers or talents. I have to make up for it somehow.”

His sister rolled her eyes. “… the date got ruined by some burglars blowing up a bank wall nearby,” she explained as Akira handed her a muffin. “Mako-chan took Hifumi back to her house and went home, and it’s too late to pick up where we left off now. I’m just a bit bummed out, I guess, but it’s not such a big deal. I really shouldn’t be so disappointed…”

“Hey, if it made you sad, it made you sad,” Akira said. “Dad and Yusuke ought to look into these robberies closer…”

“Do you think they’re connected?”

“Probably…?” Akira shrugged. “If they aren’t, it’s an odd coincidence.”

“It’s not a coincidence.”

It was at that moment that Sojiro and Yusuke came downstairs, already changed out of their costumes.

“Hey, Dad!” Akira chirped. “Coffee?”

“You really are your father’s son,” Sojiro snarked, taking the cup Akira offered him. “I was talking to Niijima-san myself a few days ago. Her department has documented a remarkable spike in robberies and muggings in the Tokyo Metropolitan area over the last few weeks.”

“That is weird,” Akira said. “Think it's one guy?”

“Unlikely,” Sojiro replied. “Unless we are dealing with a shape-shifter or someone who can clone or duplicate themselves. The physical descriptions of the robbers vary too greatly for it to be one individual.”

“It somewhat reminds me of Father’s case…” Haru mumbled, “what with mind-controlling innocents and forcing them to pillage for him.”

Sojiro was quiet for a moment. “It does match the timeline…”

“That cannot be the case,” Yusuke pointed out. “We made sure to destroy all of Kunikazu’s equipment, did we not?”

“I thought we did,” Sojiro said. “Green Genius said she had it handled, and I was so worried about you that I didn’t-” He froze. “Oh, damn it. We must have missed something!”

“We should not jump to any conclusions,” Haru said. “But we should be sure to contact Green Genius. It wouldn’t hurt to double-check.”

Sojiro smirked at her, “Look at you, being the brains of an operation… is that why you said we?”

Haru gave him a cool stare. “If there is anything I can do to assist you, especially if the case has anything to do with my biological father, then I would like to contribute in any way I can!”

“Kid, I-” Sojiro frowned, looking down into his cup of coffee. “I don’t want you to think you owe me this. You’ll still have a place here, even if you don’t want anything to do with my night-job.”

“I do, I promise. If I can make things better, don’t I owe it to myself to try?” Haru said. “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.”

“Someone paid attention in English class!” Akira heckled.

“Oh, hush!” Haru said. “In any case, I’d like to join you, if you’ll have me. If I can help with making an outfit in any way, please let me know.”

“Do you have a name picked out?” Yusuke asked. “I can help you come up with one, if you’d like.”

Haru flushed a bit. “I may have already thought of one. Spending time around other superpowered vigilantes makes one think, after all. I want to use my telepathic and empathic talents ethically, so I decided on Ethopath.”

“A wonderful choice,” Yusuke said, nodding sagely as he and Sojiro took her upstairs. “Come, let us discuss your costume.”

“Apologies, I know that I’m late,” Surhomme said, as he dropped down on the rooftop where Green Genius was waiting for him. Beside him was Yukitsune and a stranger. 

“Took you long enough!” she grumbled, looking up from the gadget she was fiddling with. “Who’s the newbie?”

“I’m Ethopath,” the stranger said. She had a pink jumpsuit with silver boots, a belt with gold-colored accents, and a green visor. Her hands were gloved in some sort of special gauntlets, likely to help her control some type of energy power.

“You’ve got another one?” G.G. grumbled, gesturing at Ethopath with the screwdriver she was holding. “How are you specced out?”

“P-Pardon?”

“Y’know, what are your stats like? What’s your build?”

Ethopath stared at G.G. with a look of bewilderment in her eyes. Yukitsune leaned over to her. “She’s asking for your powers.”

“Oh!”

“What the hell do you mean, oh?” G.G. snapped. “I thought that was obvious?”

“Not everyone is quite as familiar as you are with technological slang,” Yukitsune said. “Ethopath hasn’t been able to play many video games.”

“Cringe,” G.G. said instantly. “You guys better fix that. Anyways, what do you do?”

“I’m a psychic.”

G.G. whistled, instantly impressed. “Like… seeing the future and stuff?”

“No, I’m an empath and a telepath,” Ethopath explained. “I may have additional abilities, but I haven’t been practicing for long enough to know what they are.”

G.G. went very still. “Ground rule, no reading my mind. Ever.”

“Understood,” Ethopath promised. “Honestly, I don’t like reading minds without permission unless it's absolutely necessary. I know you don’t know me very well, but I promise you that I do have tremendous respect for privacy.”

G.G. still seemed wary. “If you try poking into my head to find my secret identity, it's gonna be on-sight, capiche?” G.G. said. “Been doing this too long to get my identity revealed just because someone’s got some OP ability.”

“I completely understand.”

“Good,” G.G. took a moment to collect herself, going back to the strange device she was holding. “Surhomme said you guys were looking into the robberies?”

“We were,” Yukitsune said. “Do you know anything?”

“It's definitely mind control,” G.G. said. “The robbers usually regain consciousness some time after the robbery, and they have no recollection of what they did. I’ve been trying to isolate the signal to find the source, and-”

She screwed in one final screw, and the device screeched into life. Yukitsune scrambled to cover his ears at the shrill sound. Ethopath winced.

“Yes!” G.G. cheered. “I’ve got it!”

“Got what, exactly?” Surhomme said, eyeing the device. 

“The signal that the brainwasher uses, keep up.” Turning the device over, G.G. revealed a small compass on the other side of the device. She handed it to Surhomme. “Here, this should lead us to whatever’s being used to control these people. You’re welcome.”

“Aren’t you going to join us?” Yukitsune inquired.

“I believe what Yukitsune means is thank you,” Ethopath cut in, “but he does raise a valid question…”

G.G. rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. I can’t let you three get yourselves killed.” Looking at Surhomme, she gestured for him to follow the compass. “Lead the way, old man!”

“Yeesh… what, do you want a piggyback ride?”

“Don’t give me ideas~!”

The signal of G.G.’s device led the quartet to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Shinagawa.

“How cliché…” G.G. grumbled. “I’m yawning already.”

Surhomme turned to Ethopath. “Can you sense anyone inside?”

Ethopath probed for any nearby consciousnesses, wincing at what she found. “There is… one individual i-inside…”

Noticing a sudden uptick in discomfort on her face, Surhomme allowed Ethopath into his head.

Is everything okay?

He was caught off guard by the frantic reply he got.

He’s gonna know it’s me, and I can’t do this, and Father is going to kill me, and-

Surhomme gently took Ethopath by her shoulders, praying the touch would ground her. “Hey! I don’t know who this guy is, but you’re gonna be okay, I swear. You’re not alone this time.”

Ethopath’s breathing started to return to normal. “Yes- You’re- You’re right.” 

“You know this guy?” Green Genius said.

“He was my… prospective fiancé?” Ethopath said. “Thankfully, I was disowned before my father could go through with the marriage contract.”

“Marriage contract?!” Green Genius gawked. “What is this, the 1800s?”

“You’d have thought so…” Ethopath sighed. “I don’t know much about Sugimura - that was his name, in case that was not obvious - but I’ll tell you what I do know. He’s in his thirties-”

And wasn’t that a horrifying thought that they absolutely did not have time to digest at that particular moment?

“- and his family is decently important in Tokyo’s political scene,” Ethopath continued. “Last I heard, his family cut him off after he was caught in a scandal.” 

“Hmmm… that explains his robberies,” Yukitsune said. “Green Genius, if he is using a replica or recreation of the Astronomyx Hat, as we suspect, would you be able to disable it from here?”

“Probably not? I’ll have more luck if we can get closer.”

Surhomme thought for a moment. “If there’s only one person in the warehouse, we’ll greatly outnumber him. I don’t see an issue with storming the place.”

“That’s surprisingly reckless of you, Boss,” G.G. quipped. 

“What can I say? Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

“Excuse me? That’ll be the day!”

“Could we please get back on track?” Ethopath asked innocently. “I would like to deal with the dregs of Fa- Okumura’s legacy as soon as possible.” 

“Fair enough,” G.G. nodded. “Oh, and before I forget - I won’t do any digging into your identity from the info I’ve known, so long as you don’t do mine.”

“That would be appreciated, yes.” Ethopath told her. “It’s only fair, after all.”

“Yeah,” G.G. gave her a quick nod before knocking the door down with one powerful kick to smash its lock. Thankfully, the redheaded, helmet-clad man wasn’t hard to find. He’d shot out energy waves at them in an ambush, but Ethopath, sensing his presence, had successfully predicted it.

“Alright, buster. Drop the hat!” G.G. taunted.

Their opponent,eyes and above obscured by a remade Astronomyx Hat, maniacally laughed. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“Your worst nightmare!” G.G. snapped back.

The man scoffed. “You? You’re a pint-sized problem at best. Buzz off, kid.” 

“I’m not a kid!” G.G. shouted, taking a swing towards Sugimura. The man side-stepped her attack with ease - no doubt peering into her mind to see her plan of attack - and grabbed her by the neck.

“Kids like you need to stop putting your noses in other people’s business,” Sugimura sneered, shaking G.G. back and forth. “Honestly, this is just pathetic.”

Surhomme didn’t dare to move, not with G.G. at risk. “Sugimura. You are Sugimura, aren’t you? I’m sure you’re not an unreasonable man. Let the kid go, and-”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Sugimura snarled. “When it comes to getting what I want, I never said I would be reasonable.” 

Tossing G.G. to the ground, he powered up the Astronomyx Hat. “Let’s see what’s inside your head, shall we?” 

G.G.’s eyes went wide, as she shuffled backwards. If she hadn’t been panicking, she might have been able to disarm the Hat’s psychic abilities. As it was, she was panicking too much to form a single coherent thought, let alone a plan.

They were all gonna know. They were all gonna know what a terrible kid she was, and that she killed her mom, and everyone was going to hate her, and-

“NO!”

Sugimura was blown back with a blast of psychic energy, sending him sprawling across the warehouse floor. “What the- What the hell was that?!”

“Didn’t know you could do that,” Surhomme said, his voice a little breathless.

Ethopath was still shaking a little, as she moved forward to take G.G.’s hand. “I didn’t, either,” she said. “I’ve got G.G.. You two do your best to hold off Sugimura.”

“Can do!”

G.G. was still shaking as Ethopath approached. “No- No mind reading.”

“I respect your fears,” Ethopath assured her. “Do I have your permission to access your surface-level thoughts? It might be helpful.”

Eyes still wide, G.G. slowly nodded.

“Thank you. I promise I won’t betray your trust…” 

I’m scared. I’m so scared. I’m always scared. Everyone hates me. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die alone because no one loves me. I’m gonna die-

Ethopath pulled herself out of G.G.’s head immediately, staring at her. 

Then, she hugged her. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry you’re scared, and that people made you feel like you ought to be.”

Meanwhile, Yukitsune had managed to get Sugimura’s hand encased in ice, allowing Surhomme to wrench the Astronomyx hat out of his hand. “Not to rush you two, but can we get rid of this hat already? Like… now?” Surhomme shouted.

G.G. seemed to come back to herself, standing up on shaking feet. “Th-Throw it here!”

Surhomme threw the hat to her. G.G. concentrated on it, and it exploded in mid-air.

“Holy hell!” Surhomme cried. “You can do that?”

“Disabled the fuses in the circuit board,” G.G. said proudly. “Turns out, that’s why they’re there. A bit reckless, but whatevs.”

“Or they go boom…” Yukitsune echoed, looking enraptured by the explosion, shards of metal still smoking on the ground. “Fascinating!”

“Are you feeling better, Genius?” Surhomme asked. 

G.G. rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, old man.”

“Are you sure? You seemed quite…”

“I’m fine,” G.G. repeated, more firmly. “Are we bringing in this bozo or what?” 

Surhomme had long since learned that he wouldn’t get anything from G.G. if she didn’t want to share it. The kid was stubborn, like no one else he had ever met. 

Except, maybe, for Wakaba…

When Futaba had asked Akira if she could invite Yusuke to study with them over a beef bowl, she had initially been concerned when the first thing Akira asked was if he could bring along someone else, only to breathe a sigh of relief knowing she wasn’t the one paying. Yusuke and Akira had come in together with a girl with fluffy auburn hair, who Futaba eyed carefully.

Annoying as Inari could be, Futaba cared about him… even if she wouldn’t admit that, not ever. She had to vet this chick.

“So whatcha gettin’?” she asked him once he sat down while the girl ordered.

“I told my sister to surprise me. I don’t really care too much.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” Futaba mumbled, still glancing over at Haru. “So who’s she?”

Right on time, Haru had come over to their table, smiling at Futaba. “Oh, Yusuke, is this the girl you’re studying with?”

“Right. Futaba, this is Sakura Haru. My older sister.”

“You have a sister, too?”

“It’s a long story,” Yusuke told her. “I don’t want to distract you from your studies. Someday, though.”

“Fine…” Futaba affectionately whined. “Alright, let's hit the books!”

Studying was still super boring, but at least she wasn’t alone, and Haru was pretty chill, even if she was quiet. Futaba could have asked for a worse time.

It had been nice to catch up with Yusuke, and Haru seemed nice enough to pass muster for now, but Futaba just couldn’t relax. It was stupid, but she couldn’t stop thinking about having to go home to her uncle. Youji had been extra bad lately, ever since he got caught up in that stupid robbery. Kept saying all sorts of stuff about how the heroes were useless, and every time Futaba tried to defend them, Youji got more and more mad at her. Hearing her uncle bad-mouth her superhero identity was almost as bad as when he talked shit about her civilian identity to her face.

Almost.

Prometheus, she wanted to just ditch her civilian identity and live as G.G. full-time. But a brat like her deserved every bit of abuse she could find.

When Futaba got back from Ore no Beko, she lingered at the doorway for a long moment, her hand resting on the handle. There was no point in having another panic attack today. She’d already had two small ones that morning. Pushing the door open, she called out, “I’m home.”

“Shut the hell up!” Youji shouted back. “God, you’re giving me a headache already. Where were you, anyway?”

“I was studying with a friend…” Futaba replied, her eyes flickering over to her closed bedroom door. She was so close, all she had to do was get into her room, and she’d be safe.

“You have friends?” Youji scoffed. Futaba could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Yeah, right.”

“I do!”

“Probably just keep you around to make themselves look better,” Youji scoffed. “If they knew how horrible you are, if they knew what you did, they’d want nothing to do with you.”

“I know.”

“You’re lucky I needed the money,” Youji continued. “Dunno why anyone else would take you.”

“I know.”

“All you’re fucking worth, kin-killer. If you were an adult, you’d be payin’ your whole family mimaikin. Just wait ‘til you’re 20.”

Futaba was trying really hard to not cry. If she started crying, Youji wouldn’t let her go back to her room. “I know.”

“I don’t wanna look at you anymore,” Youji grumbled, covering his face with his hand. “Just go to your room.”

“Okay.”

Futaba waited until her door was firmly behind her before she let herself cry, slumped down against the door. 

I really do hate your uncle… Prometheus' voice turned disapproving. I’m sorry for how he treats you.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine; I deserve it…” Futaba mumbled. “I know I do.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have to…

It was different for Futaba than it was for Prometheus, no matter how much he compared himself to her. Zeus was a rotten, lecherous bastard who had everything coming. Mom didn’t deserve whatever made her disappear.

The thought of Futaba not shouldering the burden of this sin, of what she was without that need to atone, was so unfamiliar and scary that Futaba wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“I wanna go out,” Futaba mumbled. “That okay with you?”

You do not need my permission.

“I know, just-” Futaba wiped her eyes. “Feels right, I guess.”

In that case, you have permission to use my abilities.

“Thank you.”

Surhomme was surprised to bump into Green Genius on his nightly patrol, and even more surprised to see that her eyes were a bit blood-shot, as if she had been crying.

The poor girl jumped half out of her skin when he sat down next to her. “Yen for your thoughts, kid?”

“You couldn’t afford my thoughts right now…” G.G. huffed. “That’s gonna be a lot of yen.”

Surhomme sat down next to her. “I may not make lots of money, but I’ve got plenty to spare.”

In a tiny, coarse voice, G.G. mumbled, “… enough to buy me a soda, too?”

“You drive a hard bargain, kid,” Surhomme said, his voice soft. “As long as you’re not bouncing off the walls by the end of the night, you can have a soda.”

“When have I ever been bouncing off the walls around you?”

Surhomme shrugged. “I guess you’re not the type, huh? My son used to get such a sugar high when he had soda. Caffeine was almost as bad.”

“What, Yukitsune? He doesn’t seem like the hyper type.”

“Nah, I’m talking about Yoaki. My man in the chair.”

“Oh, right,” G.G. was kicking her legs idly from her perch on the edge of the rooftop. “Yeah, a soda would be nice. I’ll get you something next time, if you want.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Surhomme said. Hopping off the roof, Surhomme headed to the nearest vending machine, G.G. following. “Do you want lemonade?”

“How did you guess?”

It was a force of habit - Wakaba liked it - but G.G. never needed to know that. “I don’t know. Lucky, I suppose.”

“That one of your powers?”

“Nah,” Surhomme said, tossing the can of lemonade to G.G. “I was just born like this.”

“Could still be a power,” G.G. shot back. “Like Ethopath, your daughter or sidekick or whatever she means to you.”

“I guess so.” Surhomme took a long sip of his green tea. Bleh, old man drink. “Do your parents know you’re out this late?” 

“We had a fight,” G.G. mumbled. 

Surhomme’s eyes went soft. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was my fault.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. You don’t seem like a troublemaker.” 

“You don’t know anything about me.” 

“… I guess not.” 

Yeah, it was better that way. She didn’t deserve anyone. The less people knew about her, the better. 

G.G. looked up at Surhomme. “Can we talk about something else?”

Surhomme sighed. “Sure, if you’ve got something else in mind.”

“I was looking at the schematics of that hat… whoever made it, they’re planning a whole outfit of almighty accessories. Madarame was connected, but he didn’t have the one in his care on him when he attacked the museum. He definitely won’t squeal on any details, and I think the accessory’s probably been retrieved. The po-po would have found it while searching his place.”

Surhomme’s brow furrowed in thought. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“That’s all I’ve got at the moment… what’s with the funny look? Do you even know about this stuff?”

“I have some expertise.”

G.G. looked at him curiously, something sad briefly passing over her face, before it turned into a determined frown. “All right. I’ve heard that you should keep your friends close and your enemies closer… wonder where a coworker like you will factor?”

With that, she teleported away. She knew about her mom’s profession before her death, and Surhomme had just professed to have worked in the same field.

She still hadn’t found the person who took Shisseki Wakaba away. If there was anyone who knew anything about it, if she even knew anyone who knew anything, it would be Surhomme.

He might not be an enemy.

Futaba would have groaned if she wasn’t seconds away from falling asleep. Her last words of the night were, “He’s not my friend, either.”

Chapter Text

Akira and Futaba had been studying at a local library for a change of pace when Akira got a message from Ryuji, inviting him to a party at the Wilton hotel.

Ever nosey, Futaba craned her neck to look at Akira’s messages. “Who’s that? Your boyfriend?”

Akira jumped and pulled his phone away. “When did I say you could read my texts?”

“Not my fault you got your phone out when we’re supposed to be studying,” Futaba replied. “Aren’t you supposed to be a role model for me?” After a moment, she remarked, “He’s cute.”

“What?”

“His profile picture. He’s cute.”

“It’s not that simple. I’m sorta crushing on his best friend, too. That has an opportunity to get messy…”

“And? Your sister has two girlfriends.”

“Poly is a hell of a conversation for a first date,” Akira replied. “What if it doesn’t work out and we end up in some sort of messed up love triangle? What if they start to hate each other? I wouldn’t want that on my shoulders.”

“I think you watch too much anime,” Futaba quipped. 

“I’ve been shot for my beliefs. Bled like a dog.”

“You are so weird.”

“Awww, you love me, really.”

Futaba whacked him on the head with her English workbook. “We’re supposed to be studying, idiot!”

“A little fun is fine,” Akira said. “Though the librarian is giving me a dirty look, so maybe we should quiet down a bit…”

“Yeah,” Futaba picked up her pen. “You should go, y’know.”

“Huh?”

“To the party. A little fun, right?” 

Akira smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

When he and Futaba finished studying, Akira shot Ryuji a text. 

Akira: I’m down :)

Ryuji: For real? Hell yeah! 

Ryuji: Dude, this is gonna be great, trust me!

Ryuji: Sumi is gonna be so pumped!

Akira: Gtk!

The Wilton Hotel was, like, fancy fancy. Suddenly, Akira felt rather inadequate in Sojiro’s classic suit and tie. Everyone was dressed like they were at a wedding or something, all black tie and perfect, brand-new clothes. Even their shoes were shined to a perfect polish.

When Akira spotted Ryuji and Sumire, he practically sprinted towards them. 

Okay, that was an exaggeration, but he did speed-walk. 

“Ryuji, save me! People are looking at me weird.”

Sumire giggled. “Rich people are always like that with people they don’t know. Papa says you have to make them respect you.”

Ryuji laughed. “Yeah, I bet your dad’s good at dealing with all that stuff, what with the amount of politicians he’s gotta deal with. I don’t know how he does it.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” Sumire replied, laughing more.

Akira grinned, then noticed a young woman in a blue dress giving him a dirty look. “Okay, maybe we shouldn’t shit talk rich people at their party.” 

“True…” Ryuji sighed. Cheering up quickly, he suggested, “Wanna raid the buffet with me?” 

“Ooh, I’ll come too! Kasumi wanted me to save her some spring rolls.” 

“Isn’t that stealing?” Akira asked. 

“Nah, these sorts of parties always have way more food than anyone could ever eat,” Ryuji said. “We’re keeping it from being wasted, if you think about it.”

“Fair point… I bet Dad would love to try something from this place.” 

“So then why don’t you get some?” Sumire asked, beckoning him towards the food.

“Come on… you know I can’t say no to that face.”

Sumire giggled. “That’s also something my dad always tells me!”

The trio were in the middle of raiding the buffet table - Sumire had even brought tupperware boxes hidden in her purse, which Ryuji bemoaned until Sumire reminded him that her dress didn’t have pockets - when Akira spoke up. “Hey, Ryuji, where is Ann anyways?” 

“Oh, she said she was going to be a bit late. Apparently, her and her parents had a massive argument right before they were supposed to come.” 

“That sounds terrible…”

“I mean… not to be dismissive, but Ann’s never gotten along great with her parents,” Ryuji said. “If the Takamakis looked like they were gettin’ along, I’d be more worried, honestly.”

“Still, that can’t be good for her…”

“They’re supporting her with college, so she doesn’t really have a choice,” Ryuji explained. “I mean, it's not like I haven’t offered to get her out. She’s convinced she can make it work, and… you know, it's her family. Her majorly effed-up family, but yeah…”

The mood soured a little, but picked back up when Sumire pointed out the chocolate fondue fountain set up in the dessert section of the buffet. She had a major sweet tooth, and Ryuji had a surprising love for food served on cocktail sticks, so they had an absolute ball. When Akira challenged Ryuji to a chocolate fondue-off, with Sumire as their judge, they managed to polish off a solid thirty-seven chocolate-covered marshmallows between them before they had to stop.

“Seriously, where is Ann?” Ryuji said, checking his phone once he swallowed the last marshmallow. “The Takamakis are officially an hour late to their own party.” 

“Maybe they want to be fashionably late?” Akira suggested. 

“Ten minutes is fashionably late,” Sumire said. “An hour, though…?” 

“It is a bit weird…”

At that exact moment, the double doors to the ballroom where the party was being hosted flung open, and Takamaki Ann stormed into the room, her parents following quickly behind. 

“Ann, you do not get to walk away from this!” Mrs. Takamaki snapped. “Don’t you care about your future?” 

“Mother, we’re at the party now. Can you please let this go?”

“Ann! Control yourself!” 

“Control yourself, control yourself,” Ann mockingly parroted, “I’m so sick and tired of you telling me to control myself! Nothing I do will ever be enough for you, will it? I’m already letting you control my whole fucking life! Why not my feelings while you’re at it?” 

“Do not speak to your father like that!” Mrs. Takamaki said, grabbing onto Ann’s arm. “I thought you wanted to see your friends.”

“I swear to god, if you try to take Ryuji from me, I’m going to–” 

Akira chose that particular moment to step between Ann and her parents. “Hi, I’m Kurusu Akira. I’m a friend of Sakamoto Ryuji. I don’t believe we’ve met?” he said in a disarming, salesman-like tone.

Mr. Takamaki sneered down at Akira, like he was a particularly uninteresting worm. “This doesn’t concern you, boy.” Shifting his gaze towards Ryuji, he added, “Nor that loudmouth delinquent you’re friends with.”

Wow, rude much? 

“HEY!” Ann snapped. “It’s one thing to insult me, but you leave my friends out of this!”

“Ann, it’s fine,” Ryuji said. 

Ann was so angry she was shaking. “No, it’s not! I can’t– I can’t do this anymore!”

It happened in an instant. One second, both the elder Takamakis were moving to shout at their daughter, and the next, there was a brilliant burst of flame, and everyone was thrown back by the force of the blast.

Ann stood in the middle of the burst, frozen in place. Then, she turned on her heels and ran out through the double doors she and her parents had entered through only moments ago.

“AND DON’T COME BACK UNTIL YOU LEARN TO BEHAVE!” Mr. Takamaki shouted, clinging to his wife’s arm. 

Akira was left stomping out a stray spark in his hair from the blast. “Good thing that didn’t activate the sprinklers…” He looked back at Ryuji and Sumire. “I’ll go catch up with her. You two… just try to deescalate the situation before things get worse, okay?”

“Leave it to us!” Sumire mock-saluted. From there, the three split.

At least it was easy to find Ann, even if Akira had been trying to keep his worry down until he was sure he found her. All he had to really do was follow the trail of heel-shaped scorch marks that ran down the length of the corridor, then up flight after flight of stairs, getting closer and closer to the roof.

By the time Akira caught up, Ann was in the middle of trying to remove her heels, the buckle at the ankle giving her trouble. When she finally managed it, she threw the heels to the ground, stepping closer to the railing at the edge of the hotel rooftop.

“Takamaki, stop!” Akira shouted. “Please, think this through.” 

“I have,” Ann said, her voice shaking as she stepped over the railing. “I need to do this.”

Scrambling for something to say, some way to stall, Akira blurted out, “What’s your favorite food?” 

Ann paused at that. “W-What?”

“What’s your favorite food? My dad makes the best curry you’ll ever taste.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Are you flirting with me?”

“Just making conversation. Promise.” 

“… I guess I like crepes.”

“Okay, crepes sound good about now. Those heels looked uncomfortable, do you wear heels a lot? My sister wears them sometimes, I have no idea how she walks in them.”

“They’re easy when you’re… when you’re used to it.”

“I bet a lot of things feel easy when you’re used to them,” Akira murmured. “Even if they’re not. Even if they sometimes… get to be too much.” 

Ann sniffled. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that. I just– I know what my parents are going to say when I go back home, and– I don’t think I can do it again. They already hate me so much. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.”

Akira took a deep breath. “Then don’t go home.” 

That made Ann freeze. “What?”

“Don’t go home. If they’re going to treat you like shit, you should get away from them.”

“It’s not…” Ann sniffed. “It’s not that easy.” 

“I know it’s not, but you deserve better,” Akira said, offering out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you off of this roof.”

Ann hesitated for just a moment, before reaching out to take Akira’s hand, using the momentum to pull herself closer to him. Akira put his arms around her in a hug and let Ann cry into his chest all she needed.

“You ready to head back down now?” Akira asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah…” Ann sobbed. “Yeah, I am…”

Akira was lucky that Soijro was a bleeding heart at the best of times, or he might not have agreed to housing another teen on basically no notice. Ann’s parents didn’t put up a fight, either, which was probably due to a combination of Sumire’s sweet-talking and Ryuji’s glowering.

After a slightly awkward introduction to Haru and Yusuke, the latter of whom had somehow convinced himself that he and Ann would be mortal enemies due to their contradictory powers, they managed to convince Ann to eat some dinner, since she hadn’t had anything to eat at the party. Noticing her nerves, Haru offered her a calming cup of green tea, which Ann accepted thankfully. She was quiet most of the time, but everyone could notice how grateful she was.

Akira showed her to the room she’d be sleeping in - thank god Sojiro’s house had so many spare rooms, thanks to that government pension money - and called it a night, only to be woken up by a knock on his bedroom door half an hour later.

“Akira… can I come in?” Ann asked, her voice trembling a little. “I don’t want to be alone…”

 “Yeah, I don’t mind. Give me a second.” Akira flicked on the light switch, going to unlock his door. Ann was standing there, wearing one of Haru’s pajama shirts, “Hey, Ann. What did you need?”

“This is going to sound so, so weird, but… ugh, I sound like a little kid. Can I… sleep in your room tonight? Just the first night, I promise.”

“Don’t worry too much about it.” Akira shrugged. “Yusuke and Haru have done it before.”

“… if you try anything funny, I’m leaving,” Ann grumbled, flopping down on Akira’s bed. Akira kept his distance from her at first, but the more he shuffled away, the closer Ann inched towards him. Maybe trying for distance was a bad idea.

“I just… you do what you’re okay with,” Akira murmured. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing…”

“Hmm… ‘kay.” Ann shuffled closer to him, tucking her head underneath his chin, Her long, blonde hair was left loose, and splayed out across the pillow. “This is okay…”

“Are you sure?” Akira asked one more time, fully willing to move even though he found Ann’s hair to make for a warm and comfortable blanket.

“Yeah, I promise I’m fine.” Akira could see that Ann’s eyes were already closed.

“If you say so. Good night, Ann.”

“Night…”

Akira woke up at six in the morning, swearing he smelled something burning. Was Sojiro trying to make breakfast or something? It was a strong smell, too, like he was right next to the thing burning, and–

Oh, the pillow was on fire. 

Akira shook Ann by the shoulders. “Ann! Ann, wake up!”

The kick to the stomach wasn’t the best feeling in the world, but it did get the fire to stop, so there was that. The pillow was only lightly charred, so Akira wasn’t too bothered. He could just turn it over. 

When Ann saw the pillow, though, she burst into tears. “I’m sorry! I didn’t– meant to–”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a pillow!”

“I– nearly– killed you!” Ann hiccuped through her tears. “I hate being like this!” 

“It’s fi-”

“Fire! And no, it’s not! This is exactly what happened in my dream! I just set fire to everything!” 

“How long have you had your powers?” Akira asked. 

“Since… since I was little…”

“Have you ever been able to practice using them?”

“... no. Mother and Father didn’t like that… they told me to hide it all the time. I used to get spanked over it as a kid…”

“Jeez… of course you’re not going to have control of them,” Akira scoffed. “You just need a power tutor, that’s all. That way you won’t struggle concealing, not feeling.”

Ann gave him a quizzical look. “Is that a reference?”

“Okay, I know you’ve seen Frozen… right?”

“That one Disney movie? I’m too old for that.”

“The hell you are,” Akira snarked. “Sorry. C’mon, I think Dad has it somewhere… I bet Yusuke will get a kick out of it too. He liked Tangled a lot.”

Conveniently, Yusuke hadn’t been able to sleep, either, so they snuck downstairs and set up the movie. Akira thought better of making popcorn or snacks, given how late it was.

It might have been a poor choice, though, as Ann melted down multiple times throughout the movie. When Anna and Elsa’s parents died, when the latter lost control and nearly killed everyone at the coronation party, Ann sobbed into Akira’s chest. She nearly woke up Sojiro and Haru with how fervently she was wailing.

The happy ending, however, allowed her to mellow out. “Do you think…” she’d mumbled, “do you think I’ll find people who accept me for…?”

“We’re right here,” Akira smiled, Yusuke nodding in agreement. Ann smiled softly before the three fell asleep again.

It was a nice way to spend Ann’s first night with the Sakuras.

Chapter Text

The following morning, Ann went downstairs to greet Sojiro in the living room. He had just finished brewing, and Ann went over to sit in the chair next to him.

“Hey, Sakura-san?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if this is the best time to ask, but Akira and I were talking last night…”

Sojiro smirked. “Is that why I heard you two watching a movie when I woke up?”

“It was part of it, but Akira talked to me about asking you if you knew how I could learn how to control my powers better. I really don’t want to hurt anyone…” 

Sojiro thought for a moment. “I actually know a few people who train young heroes. Power tutors, they’re called. Niijima-san may be able to match you with someone who has a similar ability.”

“A power tutor? Aren’t those for little kids?” 

“Not necessarily. They’re also hired to help reformed villains or people who lose control, for example.

“Like me…” Ann mumbled.

“There’s no shame in it. I had a power tutor for a few months when I first came into my abilities. They’re the reason I can hold a fork without snapping it in half, or hug my children without hurting them.”

“Super-strength seems like a tough power…” Ann said. 

“No more than pyrokinesis,” Sojiro shrugged. “It’s all about keeping control.”

“I think… I’d like to spend some more time with you all before I focus on my abilities,” Ann mumbled. “I’ve never really… had a family before. I’d like to- I mean… if you’d have me? If I’m not going to be too much of a bother?”

“You’re not the first troubled teen I’ve taken in,” Sojiro grumbled, “and you probably won’t be the last. I hope you don’t mind living in a madhouse, but we’d be happy to have you either way.”

Ann smiled. “Thank you.”

It was still a little strange to wake up in a bustling home. Ann was used to total silence as she went about her morning routine, so it had taken some time to adjust to waking up with other people around her. Most notably, it meant that there was usually someone in the kitchen cooking when she went down for breakfast. This morning, Haru was standing at the stove when Ann went down.

“Morning, Miss Sakura.”

“Please, call me Haru. There are too many Sakuras in this house for you to call any of us by our last name,” Haru joked.

“Right, sorry.”

“I was thinking of making crepes. Would you like some?”

“I’ve never had them homemade,” Ann said, sitting at the kitchen table. “I bet you’re a good cook!”

“I try my best,” Haru said, smiling humbly. “Sojiro’s a very gifted cook, but he’s usually best with the savory side of things, so I’m trying to learn a few sweeter recipes.”

“Makes sense,” Ann replied, kicking her legs under the table. “Do we have any strawberries? Those are my favorites to have with crepes.”

Haru turned around to look in the fridge. “Yep! Sojiro must have picked up some at the store yesterday. I’ll make you some.” 

“Thank you!” 

Ann and Haru ended up eating breakfast at the kitchen table, waiting for the rest of the Sakuras to come downstairs. Haru was very empathetic to Ann’s story, speaking of her own father and the way her psychic abilities drove a wedge between them.

“Sometimes, family is about the people we find,” she said, a solemn look on her face. “The families we are given are not always the ones that are the best for us.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Ann said. “I doubt my parents will want to associate with me any longer…” 

“That is deeply unfortunate, and yet… when one door closes, another tends to open,” Haru said wisely, sipping at her tea. A little cryptic, but it did make Ann feel better. 

A few days after she came to stay with the Sakuras, Ann was approached by Yusuke. “Pardon me if this comes across as rude, but if you are agreeable to it, I would like to paint you.” 

“Paint me?” 

“Akira has told you of my artistic pursuits, correct?” Yusuke said, moving to sit on the couch next to Ann. “My new mentor, Kawanabe, is encouraging me to submit a new collection for a competition, focusing on the theme of family. I would like to include you, if you are agreeable to that.”

“Oh, um… it's not as though I’m staying,” Ann said, a touch hesitant.

“Impermanence is an unfortunate part of life,” Yusuke said. Nonchalantly, he continued, “Even so, I have a feeling that you have found your home, Ann. If you would prefer to stay, rather than return to your biological family… I’m sure that could be arranged.”

“No, I- well…” Ann quieted down almost immediately. “I don’t really know if I want to go back yet, but I also don’t want to… I mean, Mr. Sakura already has enough kids already-”

“If it’s what I think you’re worried about, I wouldn’t bother with it.” Yusuke sighed, “I had similar doubts. Akira told me Sojiro’s income is far greater than what you’d expect from Leblanc. Between you and me, I believe the cafe is more of a hobby to him than a business sometimes. Like me.”

“Huh…” Ann looked back at the amount of work that must have gone into the… other parts of Leblanc. “I guess I can see that.”

“Please, do not worry about your place here,” Yusuke said. “It is far more secure than you think.” 

“I hope so,” Ann said softly. “So… about that portrait?” 

It was honestly sweet to see Yusuke’s face light up. “Let me fetch my easel. You will make an absolutely fantastic subject!” 

Sojiro was at his absolute wit’s end with the Takamakis. He had been attempting to get into contact with them regarding the future of their daughter, and they had refused to answer his calls. When he finally got ahold of them, they seemed downright dismissive. It was extremely frustrating. Finally, he decided to be direct. 

“Do you intend to treat Ann as family?” he asked. 

Mr. Takamaki scoffed. “Of course not. If she isn’t willing to control herself, I see no reason we should allow her in our home.”

“Would you be willing to transfer legal rights to me?” Sojiro asked.

“We’d pay you to take the mutant off our hands,” Mrs. Takamaki said. “As long as she never interacts with us again, I do not care what happens to her.”

Sojiro gritted his teeth, desperately wanting to snap at the Takamakis but knowing that it was in Ann’s best interest if her biological parents gave up custody willingly. “That’s agreeable, yes.”

“Wonderful,” said Mrs. Takamaki. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Sakura.”

Sojiro hung up the phone, head in his hands. He had to tell Ann, but he had no idea how she’d take the news. 

When Sojiro sat Ann down to tell her what her parents had said, the girl went very quiet. “Oh… I didn’t-” She swallowed dryly. “I didn’t think they’d actually… disown me.”

“I know this must be difficult for you,” Sojiro told her, voice soft. “I want you to know that I am here for you. You will always have a place here, if you want it.”

“Yusuke was… he said you’d be willing to let me stay here,” Ann hesitated, wiping away tears. “I think he implied permanently. As in… adopting me?” 

Sojiro just smiled. “It might take a while to get the paperwork sorted, but I’ve done it thrice now. It’s not too difficult, if you know what you’re doing.” 

“Thank you,” Ann said. “Sorry, this is… a lot to take in.” 

“You can have all the time you need, I promise.”

Ann dithered on the spot for a moment. “Um… Sojiro? My dad never… he wasn’t really a hugger, so… ummmm…” 

Sojiro would have laughed if it wasn’t so tragic. “... do you want me to hug you?”

“Please?” 

With that, Ann hugged Sojiro, allowing herself to mourn what had been taken away from her.

After a tutoring session that was quite frankly longer than it had any right to be, Futaba’s head dropped onto the table.

“Ugh, it’s finally done…” Futaba groaned. “Can we do something fun now? Please don’t tell me it’s too late.”

“That’s up to you, really.” Akira told her. “We shouldn’t be bleeding into your curfew for another couple hours. We’re lucky we started early today.”

“Don’t remind me we started early…” Futaba moaned.

“Sorry, sorry. So what would you like to do?”

“Can we shop for some games?” Futaba asked weakly. “I won’t get that much, I just gotta get out of here…”

“Whatever you say, kid-”

But just then, Akira could hear some speedy steps coming from upstairs.

“Did someone say shopping?” Ann asked at such a fast speed that it was barely intelligible. “I know all the best spots in Harajuku. Please let me come with you!” 

“Uhh… if Futaba doesn’t mind?” Akira said, looking at Futaba. 

Futaba looked a little startled. “I’m sorry, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is my sister, Ann,” Akira said. “Ann, this is Isshiki Futaba. I’m tutoring her.” 

“How many siblings do you have, again?” Futaba grumbled. “It’s impossible to keep track!”

“Three, for now.”

“I’m starting to think your dad has a problem,” Futaba laughed.

Akira snorted. “You’re telling me.”

“But yeah, I guess you can come with us.”

“Yay!” Ann cheered, grabbing onto Futaba’s arm. “We’re going to have so much fun! I always wanted a little sister, you know?”

Futaba’s eyes went wide as she stage-whispered to Akira, “Your sister’s crazy!” 

“She’s just an extrovert.”

“Exactly!”

It was a little weird shopping with Akira’s new sister, but Ann was friendly enough, so Futaba found herself slowly relaxing. After they hit the video-game store, which was the only thing Futaba really cared about, Ann looked at Futaba’s shirt and sweetly said, “Would you like to buy some clothes?” 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Futaba snapped.

“Nothing! They’re just…” Ann averted her eyes for a moment. “They’re pretty worn-out, is all. You’d probably feel more comfortable if you had something new to wear.”

“I don’t need new clothes,” Futaba insisted. “And I don’t have the money for that anyways.”

“I can pay for you!” Ann offered, shooting a quick look towards Akira to make sure it was fine. “Come on, one store. If you can’t find anything you like, we can stop there.” 

“I guess I don’t mind… as long as it's only one store.”

After a bit of pondering, Ann brought Futaba and Akira to a small store that sold more alternative clothing, including some gaming-related stuff. It was kinda crazy how perceptive she was. All of this stuff was things Futaba could honestly see herself wearing. 

“Hey, uhh… if I was gonna get some of this, how much am I allowed?” Futaba asked. “If you’re paying for it?” 

“Oh, as much as you want,” Ann replied. “Akira really cares about you, so you’re good in my book!”

When Futaba only flinched, Akira interjected, “Would a limit help?” 

“I think so?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t think about that…” Ann admitted. “How about… a shirt and a pair of pants? Or skirts, if that’s more your style? And a hoodie, if you find one that’s cute!” 

Okay… that was a bit less overwhelming. She could do that!

“Alright! See you guys back here in a bit?”

“S-Sure!”

Futaba hunted through the shop, looking for something that was her style. It was easier to imagine herself as a video-game character.

Make your way through the maze. 

Avoid the enemies. 

Find the treasure. 

The treasure, in this case, ended up being a hoodie with Jackal from Star Forneus and his spaceship. Futaba was so excited when she found it, but checking the price tag made her hesitate. It was pretty pricey, though… did Ann really have the money for this?

But when she asked, Ann didn’t fold at all. “I never gave you a price limit, remember? Besides, I want to use this money for something good. God knows my parents wouldn’t have…”

“Okay…” Futaba hesitantly groaned.

She decided to pick a less expensive option for the shirt and jeans. Black jeans didn’t show stains as easily and looked good with most stuff, and the shirt was plain, but neon-green. She didn’t wear much colorful stuff these days, so it was pretty exciting. Honestly, she didn’t remember the last time she’d gotten new clothes.

Following Akira and Ann around Harajuku, she held the bag of clothes close to her chest, like they were something incredibly precious. They were, in a way.

After waving goodbye to Akira and Ann, Futaba caught the train home. Prometheus caught onto some of her nerves.

Child… is everything alright? 

“I can’t let my uncle find this stuff,” Futaba whispered. “He wouldn’t let me keep it if he found out how expensive this was…” 

Keep it a secret. There is no shame in keeping secrets, if it keeps you safe. 

“I already keep a lot of secrets,” Futaba mumbled. “But you’re right.” 

I often am right. Be careful as you enter the apartment. 

“I will.” 

Futaba carefully turned the key in the lock, hoping she would be quiet enough to not get her uncle’s attention. Luckily, he was asleep on the couch, allowing her to sneak past him, into her room. After much deliberation, she decided to hide them in the very back of her furniture drawers, behind the blankets and spare sheets. Uncle Youji never did laundry anyways, so it wasn’t like he’d go looking through her clothes.

Probably. Or maybe he would do it just to mess with her. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Futaba had long since learned how careful she had to be with her belongings. She was already making plans to keep them safe. She’d never wear them around her uncle, and she’d wash them in the laundromat. It would all be okay. 

It would all be okay. Even if she didn’t deserve nice things, it would all be okay.

Maybe, if she repeated it enough, she’d be able to trick herself into believing it.

Chapter Text

Ann was more than a little nervous as she waited to meet the power tutor Sojiro had found for her. She’d eventually decided to go to meetings in her vigilante identity, since she didn’t want her association with Sojiro, Akira, Yusuke and Haru to lead to people recognizing them as Surhomme, Yoaki, Yukitsune and Ethopath respectively. It had taken a lot of brainstorming, but she had eventually landed on a name for herself - Magmadame.

So, it was Magmadame who came to the meeting with her tutor, not Ann. That was still a little weird to think about. She wasn’t really sure how the rest of her family managed it; that strange separation between the selves. It was so strange… 

“Magmadame?” 

Magmadame lifted her head, making eye contact with the dark-haired young woman standing before her. It became obvious that she had been trying to get her attention for a while. “Sorry… I’m still getting used to the name.”

“Totally alright,” the woman said. “I’m Suzui Shiho, and I’ll be your tutor. I’m told you’re pyrokinetic? That’s similar to my photokinesis, so I think we’ll be a good match.”

“Yeah,” Magmadame said, a little too nervous to say much else. She always got nervous around pretty women. “A good match.” 

“Alright, let's get started! Do you have any practice in using your abilities in hand-to-hand combat?” 

“Um… I don’t have much practice with them at all,” Magmadame admitted. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not at all!” Suzui insisted. “I’m here to help, no matter how much or how little control you have. Should we get started?” 

“Yeah, let’s start!” Suzui nodded, giving Magmadame a sunny smile.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all? 

Magmadame hadn’t anticipated Suzui’s experience being that much similar to hers, but as they trained, she found out just how similar their powers were. Suzui had let Magmadame watch her demonstrate her powers on a smaller scale first, and eventually, Magmadame would try to do the same in small bursts. Controlling herself that much had taken a toll on her, however, and by the end of their training session, Magmadame was absolutely exhausted. Seriously, how did Surhomme and everyone else do this sort of stuff all night? Didn’t they get tired? Or maybe they were just used to it? 

“Something on your mind?” Suzui asked, tossing Magmadame a bottle of water. 

“I’m thinking about my family,” Magmadame replied as she downed the bottle. “They’re the reason I’m joining the hero business. Is that selfish?” 

Suzui shook her head. “I don’t think so. Your reason for doing this doesn’t have to be selfless, as long as your actions are. Actions are what define us, not intentions.”

“Why aren’t you a hero?” Magmadame asked. Most of the power tutors were active or retired heroes. It was pretty rare for them to work in their civilian identities. “I mean, you’re good enough to be one.” 

Better than me, at least. 

“That’s a very long story, and we’re almost out of time.” When she noticed the way Magmadame’s face fell, she smirked and added, “If you come again next week, I’ll tell you a bit more.”

“Well, now I have to come!” Magmadame exclaimed. “You drive a hard bargain, you know?” 

Suzui smiled. “Call it a little extra… incentive, I guess? Perhaps you should ask your family for help practicing this week?” 

Magmadame lit up. “Ooh, good idea!” 

By the time Magmadame left the training center, she was in much higher spirits than when she arrived.

“Akiraaaaaaaa, can you spar with me, please?” Ann pleaded, leaning over the kitchen table. 

Akira raised an eyebrow. “You want to train? Why?” 

“Because Shiho asked me to, and I want her to like me?” Ann said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. When Akira hesitated, Ann did too. “Wait, is that weird?”

“When you add on ‘and I want her to like me’ at the end?” Akira teased. “Kinda makes it sound like you have a crush.”

“I’ve only known her for a few hours!” Ann grumbled. “It doesn’t mean anything…”

“It means as much as you want it to mean,” Akira shot back.

“That’s cryptic…”

“It’s your sexuality,” Akira said. “You have to figure it out for yourself, not me.” 

“You’re the worst brother ever.” 

“Great! I’ll tell Yusuke he’s officially been promoted,” Akira snarked back.

Ann rolled her eyes and flicked a spark of flame towards Akira’s face. It fizzled out before it touched him. Both of them stared at each other for a moment.

“I’m sorry!” Ann blurted out. “I’m so sorry!” 

“Hey, it's chill. I’m not hurt,” Akira said while shrugging. “Shiho’s really helping you, huh?” 

“What?”

“You wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t becoming more confident in your control,” Akira reasoned. 

“… I just shot fire at you.” 

“You didn’t mean it lethally,” said Akira. “Besides, Yusuke’s frozen me to the floor before. Comes with the territory. Still want my help sparring?” 

Ann smiled. “Obviously.”

“Are you sure this is fireproof?” Ann asked when Akira pulled up in a heavy-looking suit.

“When your father is dealing with arsonists and dynamite sixty percent of the time, you gotta start preparing in advance for the most likely scenarios.” Akira tightened the sleeves before continuing. “This is actually one of Sojiro’s old suits. Maybe you recognize it? Nowadays we prioritize function over fashion, but this thing still works pretty well.”

I think, Akira neglected to add on at the end.

Target practice went about as well as he expected, but he could tell Ann was improving. He made a mental note to himself to buy more training dummies and make sure Sojiro didn’t notice. Would he need to note the ice stains from when Yusuke used them?

One time, however, he had completely blanked out when Ann had told him, “Did you see that?!”

“Huh… ugh, I missed it?”

“Got distracted?” Ann asked as she cooled down for the moment.

“Yeah, I was just checking up on some notifs that Ryuji and Sumire were sending me in the groupchat.”

Ann came over to Akira’s phone, staying a safe distance from him. “I haven’t talked with them in a while… I feel sorta bad.”

“Makes sense.” Akira blew some stray hair out of his face. “Between the cafe, Futaba, and my dad’s work. I usually don’t have much time to see them, either, so I try to take the little free time I do have to be with them.”

“You really like them, don’t you?” Ann sighed.

“Yeah, they’re some of the closest people to me… who don’t live with me, that is.” Akira lingered on the texts he sent to them for a moment before getting up. “But enough about that. Let’s see if you can recreate what you just did, okay?”

“Riiiiiight.”

As Ann’s training continued on, she couldn’t quite get the feeling out of her head about Ryuji and Sumire. She knew enough to know that Akira wasn’t even trying to hide his crushes on them. Heck, he’d probably just flat-out admit it if she asked him. But not yet…

Mainly because she knew he would say no if she told him what she was plotting…

“You’re scheming, aren’t you?” Akira suddenly spoke.

“What? No!” 

“You’ve got the look on your face,” Akira insisted. “I don’t trust it…”

“It’s nothing bad, I swear!” Ann stammered out. “Let me surprise you, bro! Please?” 

“Hmm… alright.” Akira smiled at her. “I trust you.”

Wasn’t that a fantastic feeling?

“You’ve really improved!” Shiho cheered. “Yoaki is doing a brilliant job in training you.” 

“Thank you!” Magmadame said, stretching a little. Sparring always made her shoulders go stiff. “Can we take a break?”

“Of course,” Shiho said, tossing her a water-bottle and protein bar. They sat down together quietly for a few minutes while Ann ate her protein bar and drank her water. By now, Shiho knew her favorite kinds of chocolate.

Then, Ann spoke up. “You said, if I trained hard, you’d tell me why you aren’t an active hero. Am I ready to know?”

Shiho looked at her for a moment, a hesitant expression on her face. “It’s a long story. Not a pleasant one either. Are you sure you want to know?” 

“Please?” 

Shiho took a breath, moving her hands to rest on her lap. “It’s not solely my story. To understand it, I need to tell you a bit about my family. My mom, Mifuu, was the heroine Winged Victory, until she retired a few years ago, following the arrest of her archnemesis, Asmodeus. I grew up watching my mom destroy herself for Tokyo. I’ll never forget how she’d patch herself up in our tiny bathroom every night, as if seeing her covered in bandages would traumatize me less than seeing the wounds themselves.” 

“She sounds… like a strong woman.” 

“She is,” Shiho said. “A brilliant woman. When she retired, the hero community was sad to see her go, but it was time. Everyone knew it.” 

“Did she… enjoy retirement?” 

“Oh, immensely,” Shiho replied, with a little chuckle. “She finally got to marry my step-father, now that she didn’t have to worry about endangering him. And I got to meet my step-brother, Yuuki. He works here too, in fact.”

“What does he–”

“He can control the way light interacts with objects, changing their visibility,” Shiho explained. “When he didn’t have much control, he’d spend days being completely invisible and talking his voice hoarse just so we’d know where he was… it was rough for him, not having control.” 

“I know how that feels…” Magmadame mumbled.

“Maybe I should introduce you two,” Shiho said. “In any case, things were good. Until… Asmodeus broke out of prison, with some kind of power-enhancing crown.”

Magmadame paled - wasn't that the sort of thing Madarame and Okumura had possessed?

“After her retirement, my mom made her identity public knowledge, so he knew exactly who to target. He knew where we lived - where my family lived. I tried to get my mom to put on the suit again, but… she refused. She was so sure another hero would stop him, and she didn’t want to risk losing everything that she had built for herself. So…”

“You didn’t…”

Shiho nodded. “I stole her suit. I was convinced I could beat Asmodeus on my own. As an untrained, inexperienced teenager.”

“Did you… did you win?”

“I’m standing here right now, aren’t I?” Shiho shot back. “I threw him off a roof and stomped his head. It didn’t kill him - enhanced durability - but it knocked him out long enough for the authorities to take away that damn crown and bring  him back into custody. Asmodeus raved for a savior, though - someone he called Captain? I think the head trauma had him talking nonsense. I immediately collapsed and woke up in the hospital with multiple broken bones, beaten-in ribs, two black eyes and a broken nose. It took months for me to get back into any sort of fighting condition, and once I did… I realized that I didn’t want to be a hero. I don’t regret a moment of it, but… it didn’t make me happy in the way it makes some other people, you know?”

Magmadame thought back to the ease Surhomme moved as he fought, the way Yoaki would grin as he explained a plan, the way Ethopath could comfort you without you needing to say a word, or the way Yukitsune could turn his ice into pieces of art.

Maybe some people were made to be heroes after all. 

Maybe she was made to be a hero. 

Her train of thought was cut off by Shiho saying, “And… yeah, that’s why I’m here. How about you?”

“Huh?” 

“What’s your origin story?” Shiho asked. 

Magmadame paused. “I suppose I don’t have one,” she replied. “I spent so long under my parents’ thumb… I never got to make my own choices.”

“You’re here now, though,” Shiho said. “That’s something. That’s your origin story. You got away.” 

Magmadame… the one who got away in a burst of flame. 

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.” 

“There’s always another way to look at it,” Shiho said, offering out her hand to Magmadame. “Come on, let's fix your left-hook.” 

“What’s wrong with my left hook?” 

Shiho gave her a look. “Many things. Your left hook sucks. That’s why we’re gonna fix it.” 

Magmadame laughed despite the insult. Shiho really was an easy person to fall in love with.

Chapter Text

After a lot of practice controlling her powers, Ann was officially given the go-ahead by Shiho to make her debut as Magmadame. “You’ve got as much control over your powers as I can teach you,” she said. “You’re welcome to come back anytime, though.”

Without really thinking about it, Magmadame gave Shiho a hug. “Thank you! I’m so glad I got to meet you! You’ve really changed my life!” 

Blushing a little, Shiho replied, “I’m glad I met you too, Maggie.” 

Magmadame had found the affection nickname a little silly when she first heard it, but now she couldn’t help grinning. “I’ll totally come back and see you,” she said, flexing an arm. She’d built up quite a bit of muscle in the last few weeks. “Gotta get some practice in, right?” 

“I’ve taught you so well,” Shiho said, her smile bright. 

After saying her goodbyes, Magmadame kept her composure until she was in the alleyway near Leblanc. Once sure there was no one watching, she slid down against the wall until she was sitting, and pulled her knees up to her chest. 

Oh…

Oh, no.

She had it so bad for Shiho, didn’t she? 

This wasn’t just a crush. She had proper feelings… which she was going to have to do something about. Still, there was a lot to do before she could unpack that. She could wait… right? She really hoped so. 

And she really hoped Shiho was willing to wait for her. 

When Ann told Sojiro that she was ready to join Surhomme on the field, the look on his face could only be described as one of total relief. “That’s perfect! There’s this case the rest of us have been stumped by. You’d be a huge help!”

“Oh, sure! What’s the problem?”

“I thought we were finished with the whole mind-control ordeal once we dealt with Father and Sugimura,” Haru explained, “but take a look at this…”

There was a video pulled up on Akira’s phone. The angle wasn’t perfect, clearly taken from a security camera that wasn’t perfectly trained on the scene unfurling below it. A masked figure beckoned a man in a suit across a busy intersection. 

Ann winced as he was hit by a fast-moving car. 

“Why would he do something so reckless?” she asked. 

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Sojiro replied. “There’s been a few cases like this over the last few weeks. No signs of mental issues, nor any external factors that might cause them to want to end their own lives or harm themselves. They simply… walk into danger because that masked person tells them to.”

“So less of a mind control and more persuasion…” Akira noted as he read it over. “That’s gonna be a bit more difficult to figure out, let alone break.”

“Exactly,” Sojiro said. “Besides… we have no idea what their motivations are.” 

“Does that matter?” Ann asked. 

“It can. People who believe they are acting righteously often have much more to lose.” Sojiro sighed. “They tend to make for trickier foes for that exact reason. Someone who knows that they are doing the wrong thing often wants to be caught. Someone who believes they are doing the right thing will stop at nothing to avoid being caught.”

Ann looked closer at the video. There wasn’t much of the mysterious masked figure visible, but something Ann did find interesting was that she was standing perfectly still. Not trembling, not shaking, not shivering. 

Still. Firm. Confident. 

“She knows what she’s doing,” Ann announced, “so it’s not coercion. She knows it's wrong, and she doesn’t care.”

Akira raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think they’re a woman?” 

Ann shook her head. “Just a hunch.”

“Hmm… it might be worth looking into Sae’s database of registered mind-manipulators,” Sojiro said. “A few of her victims lived, as well. We should talk to those of them willing to give a statement.”

“Sensible. Should we split up and see what we can do?” Yusuke suggested. “A low-stakes mission like this would be good for Magmadame’s debut.”

“Agreed,” Haru said. 

“I’m happy with that,” Ann said. Hesitating for a moment, she added, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to mention to you all. I was talking to Shiho about her last fight as Winged Victory, and she mentioned something… odd.” 

That caught Sojiro’s attention. “Odd? What do you mean?” 

“Her family’s nemesis mentioned someone called The Captain before he was brought back to prison. I looked into it, and I couldn’t find any information about a villain with that name. I don’t think a case was ever properly started.” 

“Hmm… I’ll keep an ear out for any mentions of a Captain.”

“Same here,” Akira said. “If none of us have heard of him, he can’t be that important.”

“Fair enough. I just wanted to mention it.” 

“Alright, everyone, suit up. We’ll be heading out in twenty.”

“Got it, Boss!” Ann snarked.

“Can you please stop calling me that? Makes me feel old.” 

“We’ll try our best, Boss.”

“Akira! Don’t encourage her!”

Yukitsune and Ethopath split off from Surhomme and Magmadame to meet with Ms. Niijima, hoping to find a lead for their mysterious mind manipulator in the governmental databases. This left Surhomme and Magmadame alone on a rooftop, making a plan of which victims they wanted to interview first. 

Not for long, though. 

Green Genius hopped down onto the roof next to the duo, making Magmadame jump. “Is this your new one, then?” she asked, head tilted to the side. “She’s so tall!” 

“Ummm… can I help you?” 

“Maybe,” Green Genius said. “Are you guys looking into the Beauty Queen case?” 

“Beauty Queen?” 

“The person who’s making people hurt themselves. That’s what she’s been calling herself on the Dark Web,” Green Genius said. “Leaves all these taunting messages about ‘bringing scum to justice’ and stuff.” 

“You… really shouldn’t be on the Dark Web.” 

“Ehhh, it’s only traumatized me, like… four times tops. Only one of which was by accident.”

“That… really isn’t reassuring,” Surhomme murmured. He already suspected that G.G. had a less-than-stellar home life, but the lack of parental supervision really was immensely concerning.

“My methods get results. I don’t question what you guys get up to in your spare time.” Green Genius shrugged. “But enough about that, want my help tracking down her victims? I’m pretty good at that sorta stuff.” 

Though something about the situation struck Surhomme as suspicious, he really could have used the help. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Coolio!” G.G. looked over to Magmadame. “Hey… is your suit meant to be black at the wrists?” 

Magmadame looked down at herself. “Oh! No… this suit is flame-resistant, but the fabric on my arms still catches fire sometimes…”

“Lemme guess - pyrokinetic?” G.G. checked. “Yeah, you can’t just go for flame-resistant. You need flame-proof, or you’re just gonna keep lighting your suit on fire.”

“You… know a lot about this,” Magmadame remarked. “Do you have fire powers that you’ve never shown anyone, or…?”

“Nope! I just have a friend who makes suits. She’ll talk about this stuff for hours if I let her.” Futaba sighed fondly over the thought. “Honestly, you should prepare your suit for any situation, really, fire or not. I learned that the hard way a while ago, when I went up against this zealot guy who wanted to burn the city down. Called himself Throne. I coulda used Yukitsune’s help back then, but I managed to disable his powers, so it worked out in the end.”

“It is fascinating how many people in this city have an elemental ability,” Surhomme mused. 

“Yeah, if this were a comic or something, the audience would be so mad!” G.G. said, laughing a little. “Anyways, want me to give you her address? I bet she’d be willing to help you out if you said I sent you!” 

“Did she make your suit?” Magmadame asked. 

“Nope! This baby came built-in - she just helped!”

Magmadame’s face lit up. “Oh, like a magical girl!” 

“I am not a magical girl!” G.G. exclaimed. “I use the power of a god to fight bad guys!” 

“So do magical girls!” 

G.G. looked to Surhomme. “This one’s mean… take her back.” 

Magmadame’s hands crackled with flame. “Hey! Don’t say that!”

“Wow, uh… struck a nerve there, huh?” G.G. looked a little uncomfortable. “Sorry…”

Magmadame took a breath, grounded by Surhomme’s hand on her shoulder, and spoke. “I’m not… completely used to my place with Surhomme yet. I guess it’s a sore spot.” 

“Yeesh… my bad, then.” 

Surhomme hummed thoughtfully. “Tell you what, give me your friend’s contact information, and we’ll call it even.” 

“Deal!” G.G. said. “She’s been wanting more customers, anyways!”

“Before we begin our search for Beauty Queen, I would like to ask you about another case we’ve been looking into,” Surhomme said. “Are you at all aware of a villain going by the name ‘Captain’?” 

“Captain, huh?” G.G. said. “That name does ring a bell, now that you mention it. Let me think…” 

“Take your time.”

“I’ve got it!” G.G. pulled out a tablet, scrolling through a series of complicated coding information. “Remember when we looked at the code used for the Astronomyx Hat thingy? Turns out, Okumura wasn’t very tech-savvy, because he kept the original code on the same servers as his emails and stuff. Wasn’t hard to get in, once I knew where to look. Anyways, take a look at this!”

She showed the tablet to Surhomme, who had to squint a little to read the smallprint. It showed an exchange between Okumura and a mysterious individual going by the alias of Captain.

“Shiho was right…” Magmadame murmured. “This person seems to have been active somewhat recently, as well.” 

“This is worrying,” Surhomme said. “Especially with Okumura’s recent death… we might have found our prime suspect.” 

“We should let everyone else know about this after we finish today’s investigation,” Magmadame said. 

“Agreed.” 

They both looked at G.G., who shrugged. “Don’t look at me… I’m not part of your weird little family.” 

That statement made Surhomme hesitate. Green Genius often made those sorts of quips, and it made him wonder if she was genuinely uncomfortable with the idea, or if she was acting like she didn’t care because she wanted it that badly. Neither seemed like a great option. 

In any case, the trio got to work with their investigation, the greater question of the Captain’s identity hanging over them. 

It took a few days for them to get any real leads on Beauty Queen. In the meantime, Magmadame paid a visit to Green Genius' friend, a quiet girl named Kana, to get an upgrade to her suit. She was surprised to see that Kana worked under her civilian identity, but it made sense; she was a vital ally to a lot of heroes in Tokyo, so villains knew better than to target her, lest they have the full force of Tokyo’s hero scene thrust upon them. 

While she was waiting for her suit to be finished, the girls got to chatting, discovering that they both had a love for fashion. Kana hadn’t been able to pursue that interest until she’d managed to escape her abusive parents, and Green Genius had been her number one supporter.

Magmadame considered asking Surhomme if he had anything he could offer the young woman.

“Sometimes, I do wonder if Green Genius helped me because she saw part of herself in my situation,” Kana admitted. “She doesn’t tell me much about her family. I understand that her secret identity is important to her, but… I can’t do anything to help her if I don’t know who she is…” 

The silence hung between them for a moment. Then, Kana stood up. “Your suit should be finished now. Let me fetch it for you.” 

Magmadame left Kana’s studio with a lot to think about.

Unfortunately, she’d have to wait a little while to bring up her thoughts to Surhomme. According to a call she got, he and G.G. had finally gotten a strong lead to Beauty Queen’s location, and they planned to strike tonight. Magmadame decided to talk to Surhomme as soon as Beauty Queen was dealt with. 

For now, they had a queen to catch!

Chapter Text

After a lot of work, they’d finally caught up with the brainwasher who called herself Beauty Queen. It had been a lot of near-sleepless nights chasing leads that never went anywhere, but with a little extra help from Green Genius, they’d finally managed to figure out the common thread behind all her targets.

“They’re all related to the fashion industry,” Magmadame said. “See? A predatory photographer, then an even worse manager, then the editor of a magazine known for his nitpicking of models’ bodies. Even the guys who don’t seem related to the industry still have ties! This guy cheated on his wife - who was a model - and tried to get her blacklisted when she divorced him.”

“You think we’re looking for someone working in the industry?” Surhomme asked. 

“I’m sure of it!” Magmadame turned to Green Genius. “You still have that database of suspects, right? If you look for someone who used to be a model, I bet you’ll find her!” 

Though a little skeptical, Green Genius did oblige. The others waited with baited breath for her to spit out a result.

“Abe Mika…” G.G reported. “Twenty-two years old. Ex-model. Her manager let her go after she refused to work with that first guy as her photographer.”

“It seems she’s been on the warpath ever since…” Yukitsune remarked.

“I disagree with her methods, but I do have some sympathy,” Ethopath said. “I know the frustration that comes with feeling as though no one is on your side… it is easy to imagine why she might have come to the conclusion that she had to handle these problems herself, never mind how lethal the method….”

“She may still listen to reason, if we can get through to her,” Surhomme said. “Do we have any idea of who she’ll strike next?”

“Her ex-manager’s still alive…!” G.G. suddenly exclaimed. “I bet she’s gonna go for him! Asakura Shiro’s been out of the country for the last few weeks, but he’s flying back into Japan tonight.”

Surhomme scratched his beard. “Get dossiers on both of ‘em. Just because we’re protecting Asakura from her doesn’t mean he hasn’t hurt others, too.”

“Great point!” G.G. chirped. “Yeah, I’ll shoot these files over to Yoaki.”

Before Green Genius could hop off the rooftop, Surhomme stopped her. “Kid… after this mission is finished, can we talk? Nothing bad, promise.”

“Oh… yeah, I guess that's fine?” Green Genius murmured. “Alright, see ya.”

With that, Surhomme and his kids got a much better night’s sleep than the few before.

Eventually, they found Beauty Queen and Asakura near a quiet street around the Shibuya Square. The manager was marching down the street, with Beauty Queen stringing him along. When she saw the heroes approaching, eyes trained on her, she scoffed. “Seriously? You’re coming for me now?” 

“Step away from him,” Surhomme said, calm yet firm. “Release your control.” 

“Why should I do that?” Beauty Queen said. “You figured out who I am, haven’t you? I left him for last because it would have made it too obvious, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore. Are you really on his side, knowing what he did to me? To other women?”

“That isn’t the point–” Yukitsune began, but the villainess cut him off.

“Oh, so the predatory fashion industry can take advantage of as many young women as it wants, but the second I try to get a little bit of revenge, they send Lieutenant Loser and his Brat Pack after me?” Beauty Queen scoffed. “Typical! God forbid women do anything!”

“You murdered sixteen people.”

“They were scumbags who ruined lives. Some of them had body counts! Like, actual body counts,” Beauty Queen snapped. “It’s not my fault they didn’t see the danger until it was too late. Blame that on the mind-control.”

“You’re still culpable,” Ethopath coldly countered. “You don’t have to fight us. You can walk away, we’ll make sure Asakura faces justice, and so long as you don’t do it again, we can pretend you disappeared.”

“You must think I’m stupid,” Beauty Queen snarled, charging a blue and purple beam at the heroes. Magmadame rushed in front and created a fire-wall to block the attack.

“Nice try!” Magmadame shouted. “But your powers only work on men, right? You have no power over me.”

Beauty Queen rolled her eyes. “That’s a bit reductive, don’t you think? My powers work on anyone who could be attracted to me… with exceptions. But I’m not telling you shit!”

When Magmadame dissipated the flames to see through them, Beauty Queen took the chance to shoot another blue and purple beam at the heroes, managing to hit both Magmadame and Ethopath with the blast. When the smoke cleared, Magmadame and Ethopath… 

… were both completely fine. 

“I don’t understand…” Magmadame murmured.

Ethopath narrowed her eyes at Beauty Queen. “Your mind-control seems to use a sense of infatuation as the primary motivator… I presume it can’t overwrite attractions that are dedicated enough if the feelings are for someone else, though.”

“Way to spill my secrets!” Beauty Queen scoffed. “I guess love isn’t dead after all! No matter! I still have plenty of guinea pigs to try out! My luck isn’t over yet!” Turning to Yukitsune, she smirked. “How about you? Tall, dark and handsome. I bet the ladies love you.” 

“Some do, but I am, as the ladies say, aggressively homosexual,” Yukitsune deadpanned. “I appreciate the compliment, though.”

Beauty Queen batted him away. Surhomme was her last ditch attempt. “How about you, old-timer?” 

“My heart still belongs to someone else,” Surhomme replied solemnly. “You’re way too young for me, anyways.”

Beauty Queen pulled a face and let out a groan. “Is there no one here my powers would work on? Ugh, what a miserable night-”

Green Genius appeared out of nowhere, disabling Beauty Queen’s allure over Asakura and kicking her to the ground in one swift movement. Putting her heel to her neck, the youngest super admitted, “I mean… they might have worked on me, if I weren’t able to disable that kinda stuff,” Green Genius said. “Sorry, but the gig is up, Beauty Queen.”

The police arrived soon to take Beauty Queen (and Asakura) to a secure facility, but Magmadame paused them. “Could I talk to her? Please?”

“We’ll give you a few minutes,” one officer said after clearing it, moving to give Magmadame and Beauty Queen some space. 

“What are you still doing here?” Beauty Queen snarled. “You won. Are you here to gloat, or something?”

“I’m here because… I know what it's like to feel angry,” Magmadame began. “I know how hard it can be, when it feels like you don’t have anyone. There are people who need to die, and Asakura is damn close, but he’s not one of them.”

“… are you going somewhere with this?”

“It’s not easy to change, but I think anyone can. I managed it.” Magmadame chuckled. “I used to be a total brat, but I saw how the way people act can hurt others. I’ll make sure Asakura gets what he deserves for what he did to you and others, but I won’t let him die. He has to live with his consequences, and you have to live with yours.”

“Urgh… you’re right, of course,” Beauty Queen grumbled. “I can’t stand people like you…”

“You’re a total textbook supervillainess, you know that?” Magmadame coolly retorted. “Your powers could be used for good. You’re already on the right path, if you ask me… when you get out, I hope you’ll turn it around.”

“You know what… I take it back. You’re alright, Magmadame.”

“Only alright?” Magmadame snarked.

Beauty Queen turned the other cheek. “Don’t push your luck.” And with that, she let herself be led away.

“Are you alright, Magmadame?” Surhomme asked, coming up to her.

Magmadame took a moment, then nodded. “I will be, in time.” 

“I need to go talk to Green Genius,” Surhomme said. “Can you, Ethopath and Yukitsune meet me at home? If everything goes well… we might have a guest.”

Ethopath raised an eyebrow. “You mean…?” 

“Someone has to look after that kid,” Surhomme remarked. “It might as well be us.”

“Go talk to her.” Yukitsune said. “We’ll meet you at home.” 

Green Genius couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so great about being a heroine. Usually, the people she fought were jerks who had chosen malicious paths for profit, but this time, it looked like rehabilitation was possible! When she saw Surhomme approaching, she grinned.

“We make a pretty great team, huh?” Green Genius was so hyped up on adrenaline that she could hardly stand still. “You know, I wasn’t sure how to feel about the rest of your kids, but they’re pretty alright. Lucky, too. You’re a good dad.”

“I’m glad you think that,” Surhomme began. “We… we need to talk.” 

G.G. hesitated. “Huh?” 

“If you’re willing, I’d like to offer you a place with my family,” Surhomme said, crouching down to meet G.G.’s eyes. “You’re such a good kid. You deserve better than you’re getting.” 

G.G. froze. Then, she exploded. “You don’t know anything about me. There’s no way you know anything about me!” 

“I don’t know much, but I can make a couple guesses,” Surhomme said, trying to placate her. “G.G., please.”

“Leave me alone!” G.G. exclaimed.

“Your reaction is telling me everything I need to know. What reason do you have to stay where you are-”

“… I deserve it.” G.G.’s voice was barely above a whisper. When Surhomme’s face fell, she shouted, “I deserve it! All of it! You don’t know anything about me, and you don’t know what I deserve! I’m a bad kid, and I’m just going to ruin your perfect, happy family.”

“G-”

She crumpled, her sobbing obvious, even as she covered her face to hide it. “Just… just leave me alone!”

“Look, I can’t help you if I don’t-”

“You can’t help me!” There was a pregnant pause. “Just– just fuck off, and leave me alone!”

Before he could even get another word, out G.G. teleported away, only leaving her tears to hit the ground.

Surhomme stared at the space where the crying girl had once been, too stunned to even react.

It took Futaba a few stuttering tries to detransform, too caught up in her emotion and panic to will the change. She knew she was far enough away from Surhomme that he wouldn’t be able to find her, but she couldn’t stop the rising panic.

She had to… to purge this whole identity and start again. If she’d given enough away that Surhomme could figure out what her home life was like, it was too late. Her identity was already compromised. They were gonna track her down and– and–

Youji always told her that, if she called the police, they’d take her to prison for killing her mom. 

Maybe that had been Surhomme’s plan all along.

She was foolish to think there were any good people out there.

You’re getting too ahead of yourself. Prometheus’s voice spoke within her. There is good all around you. You have to seek it out.

“If there’s so much good in the world, how come I never find it? How come it never finds me?”

Futaba…

“Don’t lecture me, Prometheus. I really can’t… I can’t deal with that right now. I just want to go home.”

Too bad home didn’t exist anymore…

Sojiro paused for a moment, outside the front door, resting his forehead against the smooth wood. It felt like nothing had really sunk in until that moment. He was realizing all at once, how badly he had failed Green Genius. 

He shouldn’t have been so insistent. He should have offered her another option. He should have…

He should have done better. 

Pushing the door open, Sojiro entered his home, where Akira, Yusuke, Haru and Ann were sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Dad? I thought you were…” Akira trailed off at the strained look on his face. “Oh.” 

“She said no, didn’t she?” Yusuke said, a little stiff. 

Sojiro nodded, because if he said anything, he was just going to start crying. 

“I’m going to brew a pot of coffee,” Haru announced. She often got uncomfortable around people feeling strong emotions, and would find a way to be helpful until she could figure out how to respond. “Do you want some?” 

“Coffee sounds perfect, sweetheart,” Sojiro mumbled, slumping down in one of the two remaining seats at the table. 

Ann put her arm around Sojiro’s shoulder. “I’m sorry…”

“You kids are the best thing that happened to me,” Sojiro said. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

Haru pushed a cup of coffee into his hands. “None of us wanted it to end like this.” 

“We could try asking her again?” Akira suggested. 

Sojiro shook his head. “You didn’t see the way she was looking at me… I think what G.G. needs right now is some space. I hate that this is how it has to be, but I’m willing to give it to her. At this point, I don’t think we have much of a choice.” 

“You are most likely correct,” Yusuke said. “I remember how unwilling I was to admit my own abuse. If G.G.’s living situation is as dire as you suspect… she most likely feels the same way.” 

The situation was terrible all around, but at least they had each other. 

Chapter Text

“As your big sister and new best friend–”

“I’m a month older than you.” 

“– I have decided to bless you with my match-making brilliance,” Ann declared, half-draped over Akira’s lap as they watched TV. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Akira snorted. “Okay, Big Sis. What makes you think I need matchmaking, anyways?” 

“You’re such a boy,” Ann scoffed. “You’re acting like you’re not stupidly in love with Ryuji and Sumire. You know you like them. I know you like them. I’m just giving you a little nudge in the right direction. Or a big shove. Depends on how cooperative you are.”

“Say I do like them – which I don’t – what would you suggest I do about it?” 

Ann rolled her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Akira. It’s not a good look on you. Anywayyyyyyyy, there’s a culinary festival in Ikebukuro. Sumire and Ryuji are both huge foodies, right? I bet they’d be excited if you invited them there.”

Akira hesitated, absentmindedly petting Ann’s hair. “Would you, uhh… happen to have a link to where I can buy tickets?”

“I knew it!” 

“This means nothing!” 

“You like them!” Ann squealed. “I knew it!”

“I wanna take them as friends.” 

“Really good friends?” Ann teased. “Who you wanna kiss?” 

“Shut up!” 

Ann just smirked. “For real, though, Ryuji is gonna think it’s a date. Sumire might as well. Just saying, you’d be saving yourself a lot of trouble if you just called it a date. Which is what it is, because you like them.”

Akira had his head in his hands. “You’re so mean…” 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” 

“… yeah. I really thought I was being subtle.” 

“Nothing gets past a big sister’s intuition!”

“I’m still a month older than you.” 

“Not in my heart.” 

“Just… just send me the link for the tickets.”

Ann, who had grabbed her phone from the coffee table, chirped, “Already on it!”

“You know, if you’re so worried about my love life, maybe you should think about your own,” Akira remarked.

The pink shade that dusted Ann’s cheeks was oddly satisfying. “I don’t know what you mean!” 

“Come on, Ann. Lying isn’t a good look for you, either,” Akira said. “How about this: if I invite Ryuji and Sumire to that culinary festival, you have to tell Shiho you like her.”

“I-I was going to do that anyways!” Ann exclaimed, promptly pouting. “… eventually.”

“Doesn’t really seem fair if you’re making me confess while you’re still single…” Akira smirked.

“You really know how to make a deal, don’t you?”

Akira shrugged. “One of the many things that’s gotten me by in life. So…?”

Ann groaned. “I’ll text Shiho…”

“That’s what I thought. We can even make this a double date if you want! If you’re so insistent that this is a date.”

“I already said I would,” Ann grumbled. “No need to push it.”

“Sorry, sorry. Just making sure you uphold your end of the bargain.”

“A double date sounds nice, though…” 

Akira grinned. “Texting Ryuji and Sumire now!” 

“Dork…” 

“I don’t hear fingers typiiiiiiing~!” 

Ann typed out a quick message to Shiho, sent it and immediately handed her phone to Akira. “Tell me what she says. I can’t look…”

After a minute or two, Akira grinned from ear to ear. “She says yes!”

“Really?!” Ann snatched her phone out of Akira’s hands. “I’m gonna… go call her.” 

Akira smirked. “Yeah, you go do that, Ann.”

Even after she left to find some privacy, Akira texted Sumire and Ryuji and asked if they wanted to attend the culinary festival with him.

Both of them said yes.

Akira silently thanked some deity or another that nothing had interrupted the event.

Ryuji and Sumire were both delighted to be there, and Akira would have been too, if not for the fact that the two of them had some fairly different tastes in food. Ann and Shiho had immediately darted to the sweets, even after a bit of heckling from Ryuji, but Akira told him to let them be. They’d be trying out all sorts of foods today; Ann and Shiho only wanting sweets was their loss.

“We gotta start with the meat,” Ryuji said, grinning ear to ear. “Man, those kebabs over there are calling my name.” 

Sumire thought it over. “I’d like to try the takoyaki first.” 

“I gotta get a look at that melon pan,” Akira added. “Meet back here in five?” 

“Sure!”

“That sounds perfect!” 

When Akira came back a few minutes later, Sumire was already there; Ryuji, a trio of kebabs in hand, wasn’t far behind. “I told the lady selling them they were for my boyfriend and girlfriend and she gave me a discount!” 

Sumire’s cheeks were a little pink. “I don’t know if we’re all dating just yet…”

“Oh, my bad,” Ryuji looked a little sheepish. “I mean, I kinda figured, since this is a date… thought you guys wouldn’t mind, but if it bothers you…” 

“It doesn’t bother me!” Sumire quickly interjected. “I was worried you felt like you had to call me your girlfriend.” 

“Oh, uhh… yeah, that’s not it.” It was truly impressive how red Ryuji’s face could get. “I mean, it’s really up to you guys. I know this is just a first date, so I guess you might not want to, like, label it or whatever.”

“I don’t know!” Sumire stammered. “ Do we label it?”

“Whatever works for you guys,” Akira piped up. “If we need to keep things hidden, that’s fine, but I’m not going anywhere.”

“I…” Sumire went silent for a moment, looking at both Akira and Ryuji.

“I’m cool with it.” Ryuji said, voice decisive. “Is that fine by you, Sumi?”

Sumire, face so red it blended in with her hair, could only nod. The grin on her face, however, was just as big as Ryuji and Akira’s.

The three were walking through the streets when Akira stopped. “We should find Ann and Shiho. I have no idea where those two are.” 

Ryuji’s cheeks were a little red. “No need. Those two are, uhh… busy.”

“The kind of busy that might be awkward if I walked over?” Akira said. 

“Well, last I saw ‘em, they were kinda making out behind the croquembouche stand. Up to you if you want to interrupt that.” 

Akira raised an eyebrow. “ Damn, they move fast…”

“Are you jealous?” Sumire asked. 

“No… okay, maybe a little? I don’t know.” Akira managed a smile. “If that’s what we all decide we want, we’ll get there. Maybe later today, maybe tomorrow, maybe way later… but we’ll get there.”

“Spoken like a true romantic,” Sumire teased. 

“Well, excuse me for being in touch with my feelings. I thought the ladies liked that.” 

“Ain’t just the ladies,” Ryuji confessed, a merry smile on his face. “Come on, let’s leave your sister to her date. Gotta enjoy our own too, yeah?”

Sure enough, the rest of their first date was perfect, and Akira came home in the best mood he’d been in for a long while. Ann shuffled through the front door bashfully trying to hide the lipstick stains around her mouth that definitely hadn’t been there before.

The last couple weeks of patrols had been seriously awkward for Surhomme and Green Genius. Every time they found themselves in the same parts of Tokyo, they’d find some excuse to go elsewhere. Surhomme wanted to actually talk to the girl, but it was beyond obvious that G.G. didn’t want to talk, so he always ended up giving her space - that, or she’d put some between them herself.

Akira was more than aware of the tension growing between the two, and did his best to stay firmly out of it, staying focused on his tutoring job and his classes, even stepping away from his work as Yoaki when stuff with G.G. occurred. To make matters even worse, he was starting to notice some worrying things about Futaba, who was coming to their tutoring sessions with unwashed clothes and tangled hair.

Then, one afternoon, Akira spotted Futaba running into an alleyway. Worried for her safety, he followed her…

… and got front row seats to watch her transform into Green Genius.