Chapter 13
By the time the smoke cleared, the villains were gone – except for two helmets left when the female powered armor goon carried off her boss. I had tracked them in the cloud until they were out of my range, but had felt taking them down with the Pro Heroes nearby was too much of a risk. After nearly killing Blade-mouth and Top Hat, I remembered where I was and what the rules were supposed to be.
I was kicking myself for attacking them so brutally. I overreacted. For the first half of the fight I had tried to keep on the defensive – delaying the villains until legally sanctioned help had arrived. I had let the concerns about the legality of my actions guide my tactics.
It was only when people really started getting hurt and the villains started fighting seriously that I overcame the fear of legal reprisals this new world had pounded into me. It seemed like legal crap made up two thirds of everything we talked about in Hero Basics.
After Rin got catapulted away, we got stabbed, and Top Hat was threatening Kodai, I got serious. Given the limits on my new powers, I chose to attack Top Hat physically to get Kodai away at the same time as I hit him with a debris cloud to get his mask off and open access to his mouth and nose for follow-on attacks. It worked, but I wasn't prepared for his response. Damn Strikers.
When I came out of whatever temporary Grey Boy effect he had me in, I was confused by the changes on the battle field. I could try to justify the risk to take down the two villains One guy had stabbed us and the other guy had threatened Kodai and attacked me. They deserved to go down hard. The truth is I was angry at getting caught so easily and I overreacted.
This was not how I would normally respond in a fight. Something was changing my decision making – possibly some physical aspect of Reiko's body or the combination of two minds in a single head – or it might be my trying to fit into the new world's rules. Whatever it was I needed to be better prepared – mentally – for the next fight. Just relying on the cavalry was not an option when things could turn deadly so quickly.
Luckily, I regained my perspective. The flying peashooters were pests, but I wasn't going to jail to stop them. It was probably for the best that the two I did attack got away. I wasn't looking forward to explaining my actions if anyone asked.
Almost as soon as the air cleared – aided in part by Nightwing's created windstorm – the dragon vigilante disappeared.
I couldn't blame him. He took a chance – helping outside of Mosuaizuri and during the day. I would not have been surprised if the registered heroes turned on him next. Armsmaster would have, in the old days – at least outside of a recognized Truce.
"Daijōbu?" Kodai asked me.
"Hai, daijōbu." I responded. She looked at my blood-covered jacket and I realized I might not be alright. I could see she was hurting too.
"Did it work?" she asked quietly in English.
I nodded. Through two languages and pantomime, I had convinced Kodai to shrink a block of concrete and unshrink it when I gave her the signal. She did. That was what I had flown into Blade-mouth's maw just before Top Hat got away with him.
I knew the exploding block had damaged the villain, just not how much. I'd torn up Top Hat pretty badly with my glass storm, but he still managed to disappear. Reminded me way too much of Trickster.
The two Pro Heroes came to the bus and started checking on the passengers. They introduced themselves as Native and Uwabami – I think. Emily was still AWOL. Not long after that, the stone guy reverted to a bloody mess. He was tough in his rock form, but not invulnerable by any means.
Then Rin and the two other passengers that had been thrown out of the bus limped back. Kodai started to struggle out of her makeshift seat to go check to them when the snake lady stopped her. They had words and Kodai came back. There was something in her expressionless expression, but I couldn't make it out.
"We do not help?" Kodai sounded uncertain of her English.
"We're not supposed to help anymore?" I suggested.
"Hnn," she nodded.
That was when the police and ambulances showed up – along with a hero Kodai told me was Triage. I got the impression they had been waiting for the all clear – a sensible if not courageous decision.
I tried to wave them away from me when the medics started their examination. I was sure there were people who needed their attention more. My shoulder was throbbing, but if I didn't move it the pain was bearable. I was more concerned about Kodai and Rin. The villains had attacked them directly too.
And the statue boy. He may have taken more damage than any of us. I really wanted to get to know him. He showed a lot of guts to block that shrapnel after going through the pain of the first attack. I assumed the immobility aspect of his quirk kept him out of the hero course – but depending on the actual limitations, there might be several ways he could use his ability effectively in a fight.
They ignored my protests. Triage touched my forehead. I felt something go through my body. Then he started jotting notes on a tablet, recording my condition I assumed – given his name. He spoke to the closest paramedics. I was still not comprehending.
I really needed to find a way to push my language learning. I thought. Today showed that this is too dangerous a world for me to have inconvenient bouts of incomprehension. But who could I work with? I've kept the extent of my language difficulties secret from everyone except the Yanagis. And they're too far away to be useful.
I suppose I could let someone at the school know – either a teacher or a student. I just don't trust them enough to spill that secret, especially since it would likely lead to spilling all the secrets. My thoughts were running in circles.
I don't know the answer, but I'm going to have to find one soon. I determined.
The paramedics were probing my shoulder and checking my vitals. I thought Triage had just done that. I wondered if they didn't fully trust the Hero's results. The woman of the pair asked me something. I shook my head and said "Wakaranai," – I don't understand.
Kodai tried to explain, but the paramedic shut her down. Some adults don't want to hear anything teens have to say.
She turned back to me and repeated her question, more slowly. I just shook my head. She whipped out a penlight and shone it in my eyes. I blinked then held them open. I had a feeling this was day was going to get even longer.
Sure enough, I was put in one of the first ambulances and driven away.
When I arrived in the emergency room, I saw a pair of nurses wheeling a bed into an elevator. I only caught a glimpse, but it looked like the U.A. teacher Eraser Head was on it. Before I could ask anything, they rolled me into a curtained alcove and transferred me to a hospital bed. The paramedic said something to the nurse, who checked her tablet and nodded.
Emily? I closed my eyes and started meditating. I wouldn't be able to communicate with the doctors until I got my passenger back online. Are you ok? The fights over. Time to come out. We need to talk with the nice doctors so they can make us better.
It hurts … Her mental voice was tiny and so pitiful.
I know it does. I can feel it too. We have to be able to talk to the doctors so they can help the pain go away. Maybe they can call Recovery Girl.
No …
Then silence.
I sighed. It was her first real injury. First real battle really.
When she figures out what I did … what I tricked Kodai into doing … she's going to be even more unhappy. But, eventually, she will either learn to cope with the nastiness that exists even in this world – or she'll disappear forever. I didn't want that for her. But she'd more or less made that suicidal choice once already.
From the sounds outside my curtains, this was a busy day for the emergency room. I sent out some sensor spirits to determine that more casualties from the bus were coming in. My spirits didn't have enough sensitivity to let me tell people apart very well. I suspected the big guy with the weird hair was the statue boy, but couldn't be certain. He was put in an alcove two down from me.
After the noise settled a man in scrubs came in, followed by two women. The man spoke to me after looking at a tablet.
"Wakarimasen. Gomen nasai." I apologized for not understanding, then tried English "Due to a previous head injury I have some difficulties with Japanese in stressful situations. For some reason, my English is not affected. Do you speak English?"
"Your records say you are Japanese?" His English was accented, but not too heavily.
"That is true." They do say that. "I cannot explain the cause."
"Very well. Triage said you have a stab wound in the left shoulder, several lacerations, and contusions. And …" He double checked the tablet. "A possible problematic quirk interaction. What happened there?"
"I'm not certain," I began. I knew enough to give the doc the important details. "There were a lot of powers being thrown around. It's probably when the Top Hat guy did something to me – not sure what. It interfered with my memory. Or perhaps interrupted it. One moment I was fighting with him. The next I was on my back next to one of my classmates. I think she used her Size quirk on me. Which is odd because I didn't think it worked on people."
"Top Hat guy?" the doc asked.
"He was the leader of the villains attacking or seemed to be. Did not get this name, but I would recognize the costume if I saw it again."
"We think it was Mr. Compress," said a trench-coat wearing man with a badge stuck in his pocket. "Sorry to interrupt. I'm Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa of the Police Force. The villain with the top hat has been identified as Mr. Compress. His quirk is Compress. It shrinks people or objects into a small marble-like construct. Time is suspended for the person inside the marble."
"So, if her classmate's Size quirk countered the compression," replied the doctor. "There may be adverse side effects, including some temporal misalignment." He turned back to me. "I think we are going to need to do several tests. X-rays to determine the damage done to your shoulder by the blade and further tests and observation to determine what, if any, effects the quirk interaction may have caused."
Without waiting for a response, he spoke to one of the women. Of course, he was speaking Japanese.
The detective interrupted, "If she is not in any immediate danger, I would like to ask her a few questions before you begin your tests."
The doc just shrugged and walked away. He never bothered to tell me his name. The detective's gaze followed him with a slight frown. When he turned back to me, he smiled. "You prefer English at this time?" He had almost no accent.
I nodded. I was hurting but knew better than to talk to the police under the influence of narcotics – including emergency room grade painkillers.
"Can you tell me what happened this morning since the first alarm sounded at U.A.?" He pulled up a chair and sat, taking out a tablet. "I would like to hear about everything you saw or heard. Concentrate on the intruder and the attack on the bus. I will record your statement and ask questions after you finish. Understand?"
I nodded and gathered my thoughts. As long as I don't mention the exploding concrete … Damn it. They'll ask Kodai and she'll probably mention it. She didn't see the end results, so they won't get that detail from her. I guess I'll have to take the same tack.
I gave my report carefully. There was no holding back that we had used our quirks. I thought we were covered by the actual self-defense laws, but it was not unheard of for custom to trump written law. I talked for almost an hour – according to the clock on the wall. Afterwards the detective asked several clarifying questions.
"Why didn't you wait for the heroes before engaging the villains yourself?" He didn't sound judgmental, just professionally curious.
"One of the other students found himself in a position where the villains were actively attacking him. I tried to defend him. We all did. Other than the big boy's initial attack on the villain that had just showered the compartment with glass and metal, we used our quirks purely defensively. I did not take aggressive action until the top hat guy – Mr. Compress? – was threatening Kodai. That was almost the only offensive action I took during the whole fight. I did trip one or two of them and used a few whirlwinds as distractions."
"The boy …" He checked his tablet. "Agoyamato, was the student that was being attacked by Moonfish outside the bus? He took the first aggressive action by a student?"
I hated to rat him out, but it was widely witnessed. "I don't know his name. A first-year general education student."
Before the polite interrogation could continue, a lady in scrubs came in and told the detective that it was time for my tests.
"Yes. I have enough for now," He turned and spoke to me. That was when I realized they had been speaking Japanese and Emily had been translating. "I will be in touch again in the near future. Thank you for your time."
I nodded to him as he left. The lady gestured for me to lie back in the bed as she started moving it towards the elevator. I saw the ER was filled with victims from the bus.
Emily, are you ok?
I am terribly sorry I abandoned you. It is my fault that people got hurt because I was too cowardly to even attempt to facilitate your necessary communications.
I don't know if I'd call it cowardice, but you're right. Things might have gone better if I'd been able to communicate. We have to come up with a solution to this problem. Either I need to learn more Japanese quickly or you need to find a way to overcome this reaction to even the thought of combat. Or both.
"Yanagi-san?" the lady pushing me raised her voice to get my attention.
"Yes?" I said.
"I was letting you know that Recovery Girl will be stopping by later this afternoon. She had to see to the students wounded at the USJ attack first."
"What USJ attack?" I asked.
"Oh! I thought you had been told. It's all over the news so it can't be a secret." She pulled out her phone and handed it to me.
The headlines seemed to be split between the bus attack and a much larger attack by dozens of villains at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint – a search and rescue simulation center attached to the school. That was where Class 1-A had been. Two teachers and a three students had been wounded in what had apparently been an attempt to assassinate All Might.
All Might was not injured.
So this was all a distraction, I thought.
What do you mean? Many more people were hurt in the bus attack.
Collateral damage. All Might is a high-visibility, high-risk target. Everything that happened today – maybe even the first break-in – was part of a plot to take down the Symbol of Peace. We were all just collateral damage.
That is horrible!
That appears to be the reality of this world. You know this. Your history books talk about a sixty-year Interregnum where no effective government existed in most of the countries on the planet. The Restoration was less than fifty years ago. Japan didn't fully recover until the coming of All Might twenty-five years ago. Your life, unpleasant as it may be, is a pool of peace in the river of shit that has been raging on for two centuries. If you want to make the world a better place, you have to be able to face how bad it is to start with.
I want to help, Emily wailed. I just do not know how!
I barely noticed the lady taking her phone and leaving us in the X-Ray waiting room as I spaced out.
You passed the entrance exam. I know it had a combat practical portion. How did you get through that? Given the way you've been retreating at the first sign of stress, I don't see how that was possible. I tried to keep my 'voice' calm, but I was pretty upset with her.
I truly cannot comprehend how the faculty determined I was worthy of the honor and capable of thriving in this environment. Almost the entire experience was shattering to my sensibilities. I felt Emily 'shudder' in revulsion at the memory.
Almost? I probed. If there was something that she didn't hate about the experience, maybe we could work with that. Why don't you tell me what happened? It might help me understand.
You know you sound very like my father when one of his people come to him for spiritual guidance. She hesitated. As you wish. I shall recall for you this sad experience.
Yanagi Reiko/Emily
I was rather looking forward to the practical examination – excited to finally have the opportunity to test my abilities in something approaching a real crisis.
While I had practiced aikido with my father for years and trained my body and quirk, I had never allowed myself to use my ability in a real confrontation. All I had ever faced was the petty depredations of the people of the valley and the children at school. Those had to be endured with stoic forbearance.
This examination would not only allow me to unleash my aggressions, it would require me to do so.
When I arrived, dressed in a black aikidōgi – without the hakama – and black sneakers, there were so many other students, dressed in all sorts of outfits – from tracksuits to full costumes with masks. There were a disproportionate number of boys. Girls made up less than a quarter of all examinees in my 'battle center'. I was amused by the pretension of the name. It was just a square kilometer of densely built cityscape surrounded by a high wall.
I knew we were to face four different types of robots – equipment on which I could test the limits of my poltergeists without fear of anyone getting hurt. Several boys were mocking a green-haired boy when the test proctor, Present Mic, interrupted to start the examination. We had ten minutes to disable as many of the three smaller classes of robots while avoiding the larger zero-point obstacle. The robots could be expected to be found throughout the cityscape.
I began my search as soon as the doors opened. Removing myself from the larger group, I began to hunt on a side street. I had been gathering my swarm even before the doors opened and was at full strength when I came upon my first robot.
It was surprisingly intimidating. Standing, if that is the right word, more than two meters tall, rolling on a single wheel, it waved its machinegun arms and stared with its single baleful crimson eye.
"Target acquired. I'll kill you!" The voice was reassuringly artificial.
"Indeed, you shall not!" I was determined to deliver a stinging quip reminiscent of the more popular Pro Heroes' badinage.
It rolled towards me. I sent a small cloud of spirits to infiltrate the openings in the mechanism, feeling for internal cables and lines. The spirits easily pinched off hydraulics and disconnected vital circuitry. The mechanism ground to a halt well clear of me.
"One point," I counted.
Emotionally it had been no different than practicing on the vacuum cleaner at home. In fact, the elation I felt at my easy 'victory' was slightly disturbing.
I found this feeling of internal unease at my own growing aggressiveness increasing as I disabled more testing devices. The visceral enjoyment disagreed with the serenity I had been taught to strive for. I found myself starting to avoid the confrontations, trying to create a moment to allow me to regain my equilibrium.
Then I realized that if I did not continue then I would inevitably disappoint my family and my father's ambitions for my raising awareness of my people's plight. So, I forced myself to move forward.
Shortly after Present Mic announced there were six minutes left in the test, I found myself on the main thoroughfare with a number of other examinees confronting a veritable army of robots. The others used a panoply of quirks to disable or destroy the testing machines.
The ensuing chaos was disturbing. I saw boys and girls devolving into bestial states through shared violence. It was almost as if their spirits cried out to me from the harm they were doing to themselves.
Watching one girl who had floated a number of robots at once assume a prayerful pose as the machines crashed to their destruction around her was a mockery of all that was meaningful in my life.
Then the real violence began. Individual examinees were pushing the limits of their stamina. Exhaustion was making them careless – or the machines were set to become more dangerous as the examination went on. People started getting hurt. Robots would shoot children with rockets and bullets or smash them with unyielding steel arms and tails.
I worked to prevent as much injury as I could – removing one red-horned boy from the path of a two-pointer's tail strike or deflecting rockets targeted at a bat-winged girl in purple. I used the ever-growing piles of robotic remains to block and interfere with the mechanical attacks.
I was not the only one trying to help others. I watched as a blond boy in a frilly white shirt shot an energy beam out of his abdomen to save a tall boy with maroon and white striped hair coming to a point from a robot preparing to attack him from behind.
My efforts were not enough. Every battered boy or bloodied girl was another blow to my soul.
Worse was the madness caused by the growing stress of competition between examinees over the increasingly scares robotic targets.
"That's mine! Don't take it!" cried a boy in a yellow unitard and helmet with a white eye mask.
"It's first-come, first-served!" replied the dark-haired boy in a white tank top and jeans with a right arm that looked like it had been transplanted from an ogre – knee-length, green, and muscular.
The boy in yellow screeched, sending a wave of sonic energy that knocked the long-armed boy backwards towards a jagged piece of robotic carapace. I shoved the stumbling boy sidewise to avoid his impalement, only for him to grab the metal debris and throw it at the boy in yellow.
I was able to deflect the metal missile into a building but had to remove myself as the horror of the situation swept over me.
This was not the only altercation between examinees I witnessed. A small child, no more than a meter tall and possibly less – hairless and doughy with no outward expression of gender – was using the whip-like head and neck of a two-pointer to beat an athletic boy in a dark blue bodysuit with half-face mask and black hair into unconsciousness. A boy with a blond flat-top and a sleeveless blue shirt was trading energy bolts with an orange-haired girl in pink with silver sidebars on her head. The pressure cooker of the examination was causing people to abandon not only their heroic aspirations but their humanity itself.
I admit I ran, fleeing in panic. Looking to find a way out of the nightmare.
Then it got worse.
A calamitous crash resounded throughout the city. Buildings rocked as the ground itself trembled. Great dust clouds rose to obscure the distance. A robot the size of the tallest building began moving towards the bulk of the examinees. I was off to one side, standing near a quiet giant with silver hair and a plethora of limbs. He pointed his dish-antennae-like appendages at the disturbance, then blanched and raced way.
I saw many of the examinees fleeing and began to join them. Then I noticed two figures who were not retreating – the green-haired boy from earlier and the prayerful girl.
The girl was trapped – her ankle pinned by heavy debris – in the path of the oncoming monster. The boy was staring at her, realization of her impending doom just dawning on him.
I got close enough to reach out with my spirits, to try and pull the girl free or to shift the debris so she could free herself. All to no avail. I was not strong enough.
The boy launched himself at the massive machine and in one mighty blow stopped it in its tracks.
I watched in dread as he then fell towards his death, his arm and legs flapping like empty sleeves in the wind of his decent.
Again, I tried to help. Again, I was too weak.
The girl saved him. She had floated the missile pod which had held her to the ground and slapped the boy, somehow arresting his fall millimeters from the hard ground.
I watched as they both collapsed.
Then I collapsed as well, overwrought and exhausted. I lay on the ground – the boy's destroyed body in the center of my vision.
I could not do it. I could not save either of them. And I could not imagine making the sacrifice he had made to be the hero she needed. The hero I had proven I was not and could never be.
As the other examinees began to crowd around the two, I withdrew. I could not bring myself to move my body, so I drew my spirits tight to me and closed my eyes and mind to the world. Searching for some semblance of the serenity with which I had started the day.
It was not to be found then. And I have not found it since.
Taylor
Yeah. I can see how that might cause issues. I offered sympathetically. A therapist once told me that when people are in a really stressful situation the brain can produce an imbalance between certain chemicals. Sometimes that imbalance lasts and causes all sort of problems. That might have happened to you.
Then, when you brought me in, who knows if your spirit was separated from your brain while still in a state of imbalance. This could be causing you to still be in a heightened fight-or-flight state. I know this is all probably wrong. I'm not a doctor. I'm just wondering if we should talk to one.
If we were anywhere near my brain chemistry, I'd probably be suffering similar issues. I considered. And I might be having similar problems. Something is wrong with me. It might be from your brain's imbalanced chemistry. Or from some sort of spiritual imprint of the stress I suffered before I was killed. Who knows? Who could we even go to for advice?
My parents are the only ones I know that might understand. Emily replied.
And they already know our situation, I thought. Maybe we can request some recuperative home leave or something.
We discussed the possibilities. During the discussion, it became obvious that just talking about her experiences in the exam had helped her open up somewhat.
She was able to differentiate her discomfort with the natural excitement she felt overcoming the robots from the disgust she had at the bad behavior of the other examinees. Adding in the fear caused by seeing the several people get hurt by the robots, especially the last guy who almost got killed in front of her, and her high stress was understandable. We were able to pick apart some of the reasons behind her prior actions and current state.
We didn't get far but we made some progress.
Recovery Girl and Kan-sensei came around 5p.m. after we had undergone the initial battery of tests.
SMACK! Recovery Girl kissed me. I felt my shoulder knitting. I also felt exhaustion overtaking me.
"Your shoulder should be fine in the morning, but they are concerned about quirk interaction and possible brain injury," the school nurse informed me. "You are going to have to stay in the hospital for at least another day of testing."
"After that you are going home to recover," Kan-sensei added. "U.A. will be shut down for a week so we can revamp our security and repair damages from the attacks. After that will be the Sports Festival, so you may want to take this time to practice your quirk and prepare for the event. I'll organize a bag for you and escort you to the station tomorrow. Is there anything in particular you want me to pack?"
This seemed intrusive to me, but he was acting as my parent here. "Just some clothes and schoolbooks. Do you know what happened to my backpack or phone? They were on the bus, last I saw."
"Your phone was destroyed, but your bag was recovered from the bus," he said calmly. "It will be delivered here sometime this evening. Your parents should be able to download the police report for the insurance claim on the phone."
"Thank you both." I bowed as well as I could in the bed.
After they left, I started thinking about someone else who might be able to help me with my language studies. Someone who was at least aware that there was more than one 'voice' in my head. His number would be in my burner phone in my backpack – if it survived.
We could ask my father to help with his spiritual fracturing as well, Emily added. That sounds like a wonderful idea.
Not worried he might be a danger to your family? I questioned.
Nothing can truly harm us in our home, she assured me.