Chapter 21
Monday mornings were a bad idea.
Getting up in the early hours to drag myself to school sucked. I'd gotten used to not thinking about the hot mess that was the tenth grade. Kan-sensei had said something about a special assembly, so regular classes might wait another day, but dealing with the social fallout from once again having my face plastered over the news shows was waiting for me regardless of the day's curriculum.
It might not be so bad, Emily offered. The Sports Festival has dominated the media for days. Tokuda's reports have only been showing for the weekend.
And most people only remember the last thing they saw on TV. But, I guess we'll find out.
I looked out my window and saw a steady rain was falling. Wonderful.
I went into my small bathroom, turned on the shower, and looked at my reflection. Bed hair and shadows under my eye – check. A familiar silver eight-pointed symbol imprinted into the black silk of my new eyepatch – check?
What is that?
It is the kagome – a common symbol of the Shinto faith. You must have noticed it carved in many places at the Temple.
Yeah, ok. I remember seeing it. Why is it on my eyepatch? More importantly, who put it there?
I do not recall seeing it on the patch when we surrendered to slumber.
You were sleeping too?
I usually devote myself to meditation while you sleep. Occasionally, I find it beneficial to embrace the release of somnolence. Last night was such an occasion.
So, you were asleep too.
That is what I just stated.
And someone switched the patch while we were both snoozing.
Why do you assume a replacement rather than an embellishment?
Look closely. The pattern is woven into the silk, not added on.
How extraordinary.
Yeah. I sent my spirits around the apartment but found nothing out of the ordinary – including no sign of the original patch. I went out and searched in person. Both the windows were still locked, as was the door, with the chair still set under the knob. I wasn't allowed to install a security bar, but did what I could. After several minutes of searching, I found nothing to explain the new patch. Unhappy, but not willing to be late my first day back at UA, I set the patch aside and took my shower.
I kept the hood of my rain poncho up while on the bus. Several people were watching the news on their phones. I saw clips of the Sports Festival interspersed with scenes of my two fights in the Valley. The picture of Bakugo with his manacled arms and the ribbon hanging from his foam-flecked mouth was disturbing. From all I'd heard and seen around the school he was a hothead on par with Kamakiri or Awase, maybe worse.
There were also clips of three third years dominating their events. I was happy to see that Amajiki, the socially anxious Changer Kan-sensei had brought in as one of the class mentors, was one of them. I had to admit the pixelated pictures of his nude friend caught my eye. Big and built, reminded me of Brian. The media was already calling them the 'Big 3'.
Occasionally I caught glimpses of my 1-B classmates in the festival footage, but far less frequently than my own face graced the screens. I was getting more screen time than any of the other UA students. Mr. Yanagi would be pleased, as I was often described as the Burakumin hero student. But, the rest of my classmates were likely to be pissed I was stealing the limelight.
I'd sent Shoda, Kodai, Rin, Jin, and Tokuda my new regular phone number – even sending a text to the American college students. Pretty much everyone I knew. I wanted to pick up a new cape phone as the old one had been compromised by my using it so much since the bus attack. My classmates had all sent messages letting me know how happy they were I was up and about.
Walking up the hill towards the school gate, I noticed Midoriya talking to the speedster Iida. The green-haired boy had bandages on both hands and an angry red palm-shaped scar covering most of his left cheek. The news said that the guy I'd almost caught outside All Might's office – couldn't remember his name – had managed to get a light touch on Midoriya during the USJ invasion, just before the teachers arrived to save the day. The villain's disintegration quirk had left a wound so deep; the remaining disfigurement was the result after weeks of quirk healing.
Looks like I wasn't the only one who'd had a rough couple of weeks.
As the two boys ran to the school's main entrance, I followed more slowly. I didn't need to draw attention.
"Yanagi-chan!" Pony – the American blond with the horns and hooves – swept me into a hug as soon as I had my rain gear hung up. "I was so worried. Are you ok?" She was chattering a mile a minute, but it was in English, so I didn't have to wait for Emily's translation.
"Hey, Pony," I said, pushing her back. "I'm ok…"
"Oh my God!" She screamed, reaching out to brush my bangs aside. "Your eye!"
I slapped her hand away, teeth clenched, and turned to hide my face in my locker. My shadows let me sense that everyone had turned to stare at me. There was no way I was avoiding this, so I put my street shoes into the locker, put on my school shoes, then turned to face the crowd. I brushed the bangs behind my ear, subtly holding them back with some geists.
"Yes. My eye." I said to the overly-excitable girl. I spoke Japanese because I was really addressing the crowd. "I have, for the most part, recovered from my injuries. But I lost my left eye in the final battle." As several students started to yell questions, I stated. "I would rather not talk about it anymore."
I then stomped to my class, leaving the American in tears behind me. I felt bad about it. She was a pretty nice person, but she really needed to learn some tact.
I got several comments as I climbed the stairs to the classroom. People I don't recall ever seeing before were calling out "Yanagi-san!", even "Reiko-chan!" I guess I had been in Japan long enough to feel slightly offended at the informality.
This had never happened to me before. At Winslow, I was nobody – on a good day. On a bad day, I was the girl sitting in glue, Sophia's punching bag, Emma's bitch, or worst of all – the girl in the locker. Now everyone seemed to know me and they all wanted to be my friend.
Almost all of them.
"There she is," Bakugo was leaning against the wall outside the 1-A classroom door. "Who do you think you are?" His voice was tight, controlled but filled with venom.
"What?" I asked, stopping next to him, but not facing him.
"You made a mockery of the Festival."
"I don't know what you mean," I replied. "I wasn't even there."
"Exactly!" he said spinning to face me, his voice rising in volume with every word. "I've seen you fight. You could have been a contender. But you weren't there. That means my win was worthless!" Small explosions popped in his cupped palms as he lowered himself into a crouch. "Fight me now!"
Is he crazy? I blurted.
I think it very likely he is at least somewhat unhinged. Emily agreed. Interestingly, I didn't feel her retreating. Instead, she seemed almost eager to put the bully in his place.
As he readied to throw himself at me, I just waved him off and walked away. "No thanks."
"I'll kill you!" he screamed.
"Not today," I replied, not bothering to look back. Of course, I had several spirits tracking his every twitch. I also saw Eraser Head watching the two of us from the corner of the stairs. I knew if the blond bomber tried anything, his homeroom teacher would have him nullified and probably wrapped in capture cloth before his first step.
This was exactly the sort of drama I don't need. Remind me to kick Tokuda next time I see him.
I will give your request all due consideration, Emily replied. The girl was getting sarcastic. I think she'd spent too much time around Mieko.
In class the reaction to me seemed to be split along three lines. My friends – the people I often ate lunch with – were anxious about my health. Kodai and Shoda in particular, were happy to see I was alright. I kept my hair covering my eyepatch and downplayed my time in the hospital.
"I think I slept so long because I just needed a break. It was a busy couple of weeks." I lied.
Kamakiri the lizard/insect boy and the rest of the class troublemakers were all glaring daggers in my direction. I wasn't sure why. Jealous of my media attention? Angry that I had 'disrespected' the sacred Sports Festival? Or prejudice against my caste? Could be almost anything with them. 'Angry' was their default setting.
Monomo, the blond power copier, sitting with the other class leaders, was complaining, "… with her quirk we could have had all the headbands. It would have been an all 1-B final round!" Class rep Kendo patted his hand while Juzo, my English Study Club co-lead, gave me a nasty glare.
The rest of the class didn't seem to know what to do with me. They gathered around Pony, who was normally friendly, but I'd just embarrassed her – or allowed her to embarrass herself.
As the bell was about to ring, Kan-sensei stepped into the room and called, "Quiet down and take your seats. As you can see, Yanagi-san has rejoined us. Please allow her the space she needs to readjust to class after her convalescence."
The students murmured among themselves for a second until the teacher cleared his throat.
"We're having a special hero informatics class tomorrow," he said. The students looked around inquiringly. "Today Class 1-A and 1-B will meet together during Hero Studies for a series of special exercises."
"Finally!" Monomo stood and cheered. "We'll show them which is the better class."
"Thank you Monomo-san for so clearly illustrating the concern the Principal has voiced that the stressful events of USJ Day and the pressure of the Sports Festival may have created an atmosphere of unhealthy competition both between the two hero classes," He glowered at the young trump who sunk back into his seat, "… and within each class."
Several of the students looked around with either hostility or guilt in their eyes.
I think he may have a point. I sent. There's a definite tension in the air. I thought it was all aimed at me, but that might not be the case.
It appears to be a more general disquiet. Emily pointed my attention at the silent bickering between Awase, the dark haired, headband wearing Bakugo wannabe, and Kamakiri, with Sen Drill-hands literally caught in the middle. In another row, Komori the mushroom girl and Ibara the vine girl were very conspicuously ignoring each other. Next to them, Pony was still sniffling and sending sorrowful glances my way. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
These were all just kids. They were only two or three years younger than I was. But in this case, it wasn't the years, it was the experiences. They hadn't been through anything like I had, and it made them seem decades behind.
Part of me wished I still had their innocence. I was so tired of constantly fighting. Maybe I could make a difference in another way. I'd mentioned sharing some of "Weaver's" experiences to Kan-sensei and the Principal. Perhaps I should carry through with that. It would feel good to share some of the lessons I'd learned with them and help them avoid some of the same mistakes.
"With that in mind," the teacher continued. "We will be doing a series of teambuilding exercises this afternoon – with students from both classes on each team."
He allowed the class's vocal reaction to continue for half a minute before knocking his UA ring on his desk to get our attention. "Please save your questions for the exercise. We will proceed to the small auditorium after lunch. In the meanwhile, other announcements include …"
Classes were classes. I was caught up on everything but English, which I was able to wing.
At lunch, I decided to head for the roof.
While I was in line for my hot meal, I was a bit overwhelmed with the attention I was getting from almost all the students. As I passed a group of tables filled with Class 1-A students, Monomo taunted Bakugo for not having faced me in the tournament. I winced when Kendo head-chopped him into unconsciousness. That can't be healthy. I waved at the people at my normal table and walked up the stairs.
The roof of the cafeteria was only three stories tall. There were several other people seated at the picnic tables that had been scattered around the roof. Seeing they were almost all third years, I realized I was probably breaking some unwritten rule about territorial boundaries. Not wanting to deal with anyone, I headed to a corner away from the tables and hovered into my floating meditation pose. My lunch dishes circled around me like satellites.
"Hey, Reiko-chan," Haya Yuyu, the third year mentor who was helping with the English Club called quietly. I had sensed her coming but not turned until she spoke. "Mind some company?"
"Not at all," I replied. Here was a possible friend. She still lacked my battle scars, but she was at least closer to my real age. And, she knew more about life in the city and life at UA than Emily or anyone in my class. "How did you do in the Festival? Sorry I wasn't able to watch."
"Not as well as Nejire, but I made the final eight." Despite her claim, she looked a little disappointed. I noticed her hair was a different shade than last time I had seen her – a brighter red. I also noticed she was wearing a third stud in her left ear along with the two in her right. Her style proclaimed her one of the 'bad girls' – which was the furthest thing from the truth.
"Nejire?" I asked.
"Haddo Nejire." Yuyu, as she had earlier told me to call her, pointed to a pretty girl with very long blue hair seated in the middle of a gaggle of third year students. I recognized her as the female member of the Big 3.
"She's my best friend, so I wasn't too upset when she knocked me out of the running. In practice, I can take her one out of three, or two out of five on a good day. But when she gets serious, Mirio-kun is the only one that can beat her. And not even he can do it all the time."
"Impressive," I allowed. "Is Mirio the naked guy? What's his story?"
Yuyu giggled. "His quirk lets him turn intangible, but he can't take his clothes with him. I know he's trying to learn how, but so far … nada!" She pronounced the last word in Spanish. I knew from earlier discussions she was bilingual in Japanese and English and was interested in picking up several other languages. She was even considering going to a university abroad.
"And they call Midnight-sensei the X-Rated Hero." I grinned. She slapped my arm.
"He's really nice – friendly and helpful. It's not his fault his bits are always hanging out. He really is trying."
"Um-hum," I agreed. She slapped my arm again. The cheerful banter was like something out of a high school drama, but this time it wasn't so bad.
After lunch, it was time for teambuilding. Wonderful.
The auditorium had eight tables – each with five seats. Name tents marked each place. I found mine at table four. As I sat, I was joined by Midoriya Izuku, the green haired walking casualty; Tokoyami Fumikage, the bird-headed shadow-summoner; Fukidashi Manga, the comic book guy; and Yaoyorozu Momo, the girl who had maybe hinted at Burakumin bias in the first English Club meeting.
An interesting bunch. I knew Yaoyorozu was a recommendation student so she was both skilled and connected. I suspected that Tokoyami was one of the other Medium-type quirk bearers in the year. Midoriya gave new meaning to the term glass cannon – or in his case glass cannonball. Extremely powerful, but his body couldn't handle his quirk. After overloading my body by stressing my quirk controlling the Guardian, I knew how that felt. Manga was the most familiar to me, a versatile combatant with inexplicable abilities. Since day one, there had been something that made me anxious. I just couldn't figure out what it was.
We offered polite introductions before All Might called the expanded class to order. "Greetings!" he boomed. "We are here today to remind you that you are all studying to be heroes. You must remember – contests aside – heroes cooperate to save the day, not compete with each other. We push you to excel, to go above and beyond every day – Plus Ultra!" Many of the students shouted the school motto after him.
"Pushing you often means setting you against each other in practice. This is not because we are preparing you to battle each other in the real world, but because …" He paused and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Because it's the most efficient way to allow you to face opponents with the sorts of quirks and skills the villains you'll fight as Pro Heroes possess."
"But making you fight each other every day means it's easy for you to start seeing one another as the enemy. But that's wrong! You're future colleagues, maybe even partners. You'll be relying on each other for the rest of your professional lives. And we need to remind you of that. So today, and on other days in the future, we'll be having exercises where you have to work together to succeed. We'll start with the truly perilous and deadly serious case of the sinking ship!"
Kan-sensei and Eraser Head passed out tablets for each person. On the large screen in the front of the room appeared what looked like a news report shot from a helicopter. It showed a small yacht sinking in the ocean, smoke pouring out of the back end. Figures could be seen launching a rubber lifeboat. On each of our tablets, small, labeled pictures of items formed a matrix on the screen.
"You are an ad-hoc team of heroes sent to rescue a family whose yacht was captured by pirates on the high sea. During the battle with the pirates, your transport was sunk and the yacht was badly damaged. There is an inflatable lifeboat large enough to carry you, the three hostages, and the three pirates that you captured. The rest have retreated and are no danger to you for this exercise. The lifeboat has no supplies except a large container of matches. Your team has managed to salvage the fifteen items listed on your tablet, undamaged and intact."
"Your task is to rank the fifteen items in terms of their importance for your survival, as you wait in the lifeboat to be rescued. Place the number one by the most important item, the number two by the second most important and so forth until you have ranked all fifteen items. You are each to do this individually. Then work as a team to decide the consensus ranking. Remember if you get this wrong you, your rescues, and the captured pirates may never live to see land again."
I raised my hand.
"Yanagi-san?" he acknowledged.
"Why wait to be rescued? Why not use our quirks to rescue ourselves? Or at least to improve our chances of survival beyond the fifteen items?" I gestured to Yaoyorozu, whose Creation quirk would make this whole exercise meaningless."
"Very good question!" All Might acknowledged. "It seems that in this case the rescued family were being sought because of their almost unique family quirk that nullifies all quirks in a hundred meter radius." He gestured to the A-1 homeroom teacher. "And unlike my colleague's quirk, this effect cannot be turned off. That is why you had so much difficulty defeating the pirates. You had to act without the benefit of your quirks. But that's another exercise. For this one, you cannot use your quirks at all."
It was an interesting puzzle. The items ranged from cases of rations, to rope, to a sextant, to a shaving mirror. Some had obvious utility, others not so much. I indicated my rankings then waited for the rest of the team. When we had all completed the task, the rankings appeared in a matrix on the table, which was itself a large touch screen. I wished we'd had this sort of technology at Winslow.
"So why did you rank the radio so high?" I asked Manga. He had listed it as number one. I figured we needed to start at the top and come to a consensus for that spot, then we could move down the ranking. I knew if we could agree on our top priority, the rest would be a lot easier.
"We can use it to call for help," he replied.
"That is a Sonix B300," Yaoyorozu argued, pointing to the image. "It doesn't have broadcast capability, only short range reception."
"So no calling for help?" His face read 'Sending out an S.O.S.' in English, with little musical notes around it. "At least we'd have tunes to keep up our morale."
"Not if we were more than a hundred kilometers from any station," Midoriya disagreed. The creator nodded.
"So which did you select as first?" I asked Yaoyorozu.
"Basic survival priorities – according to the Rule of Threes – are shelter, water, and food," she replied. "Exposure can kill you in three hours, thirst in three days, and hunger in three weeks. Therefore, I prioritized the water and rations."
"I don't know," Midoriya said. "What about shelter? It's first on your list. We could make a shelter out of the tarp and rope. Or we could use the sextant to navigate our way to shore. We know more or less where the yacht was when we got to it. Still, food and water are pretty important. Or …" He started speaking more quickly and more quietly. All that came out was an unintelligible muttering.
"You're being very quiet," I said to the bird boy.
"I am contemplating the terrible isolation one would suffer being set adrift on the ocean. The nigh unbearable heat of the burning sun alternating with the awe-inspiring grandeur of the endless night sky." His voice was low and measured, dramatic without being theatrical. "I cannot decide whether the positive would outweigh the negatives, given one survives the experience."
"Survival seems to be the point here," Manga countered.
"Then I suggest that you were correct to begin with," Tokoyami replied. "We would never have enough water or food to sustain us indefinitely. Our only hope, slim though it might be, would be in rescue. Being found on the vast emptiness by chance is almost unheard of. We would need to find ways to draw attention to our plight. Without it we are surely lost."
"I have read in some guides that signaling is placed higher than water or food in the survival hierarchy. But the radio is useless for that task," the other girl complained.
I agreed with her, and more importantly so did my PRT SERE – Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape – training. Signaling was the essential element in this situation. She was just stuck inside the box. There were two items on the list that could be used to gain attention from over the horizon. I had prioritized them on my list. But I didn't want to blurt that out. These people were smart, but they needed to think differently. I could help guide them, without telling them the answers.
"Is radio the only way to signal? To whom would we be signaling?" I threw out.
"Other ships," Yaoyorozu stated.
"Airplanes," Manga added.
"Flying or ocean going heroes like Gang Orca and his crew, or Selkie, or Water Hose – but they're gone … mutter mumble mutter mumble …" Midoriya trailed off into incoherence.
"Satellites, observing silently from the vast empty reaches of space." Tokoyami offered.
"And is radio the only way to communicate with these people – or even just gain their attention?" I prompted. It was heavy-handed, but this was our first time with this sort of problem. Crawl, then walk, then run – my old trainer used to say.
The exercise lasted for almost an hour before All Might shared the government-approved priority list and gave their reasons. The consensus my team had reached was close, if not an exact match.
The teachers shuffled us into new groups and gave us another problem. Then another reshuffle and another problem. By the end of the afternoon, I'd had a chance to work with most of the students in both classes. While we were nothing close to friends, I'd certainly gotten to know them all a little bit better.
A/N: Lost At Sea Exercise Details
For anyone who wants the list of 15 items and the Coast Guard solution - google Lost at Sea - Insight - Typepad