Location: Minato Ward, Tokyo – "The Obsidian Garden" (Private Restaurant)
Date: Wednesday | 09:00 PM
CLINK.
The sound of heavy crystal meeting the dark stone table echoed through the room.
They were on the sixty-fourth floor, in a space that officially didn't exist on any building manifest.
There were no waiters; the food had been laid out before they arrived, and the heavy doors were bolted from the inside.
Kaito Arisaka sat at the head of the table. He had his vest unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Across from him, Rikiya Yotsubashi was methodically cutting into a thick steak.
He looked entirely too satisfied for a man who had spent the day running a multi-billion yen corporation and a shadow militia.
"Three months, Arisaka-san," Rikiya said, pointing his knife toward Kaito before taking a bite. "The Detnerat-Shield merger is the only thing the news talks about. You didn't just fulfill your contract. You changed the fundamental structure of the industry."
"David Shield was bored and your board members were lazy," Kaito replied. He picked up his water glass. "I just stopped them from wasting each other's time."
"It's more than that and you know it," Chitose Kizuki—Curious—interjected.
She leaned forward, her blue skin catching the low light as she swirled her wine. "But we need to talk about these new audits. My editors at Shoowaysha are complaining. Why am I suddenly filing 'Environmental Impact Reports' for every single pamphlet we print? It's slowing down my publication cycle."
Kaito set his glass down. "Because you were printing those pamphlets on untraceable paper and shipping them through hubs that haven't been inspected in five years. If the police actually looked at your supply chain, they would have been at your front door by noon. I'm not doing this for the sake of paperwork, Chitose. I'm doing it so you don't end up in a cell because of a bad shipping manifest."
"Is the trail really that obvious?" Curious asked, her eyes narrowing.
"It was a neon sign," Kaito said. "I've rerouted your paper sourcing through three different legitimate shell companies. It's slower, but it's invisible. Do you want speed or do you want to keep your printing presses?"
Curious leaned back, a small, sharp smile on her face. "I'll take the invisibility. For now."
"He's right about the security," Tomoyasu Chikazoku—Skeptic—muttered. He didn't look up from his handheld device, his long hair hanging over his face as he hunched over.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
"I spent the last ten days setting up the digital request system," Skeptic continued. "Every regional cell now has to ask for a budget before they even buy a liter of gasoline. It's a bottleneck. It's a massive pain. But I can see exactly where every single yen is going now. No more 'disappearing' funds in the Kansai branch."
"And how are the soldiers taking it?" Rikiya asked, looking toward Trumpet.
"They're too busy arguing over their 'Office Supply Budget' to plan any street fights," Koku Hanabata—Trumpet—added with a dry chuckle.
He smoothed his tie, looking every bit the polished statesman. "By forcing the cells to act like corporate branches, Arisaka-san has effectively turned our militia into a bureaucracy. The hotheads spend their nights filling out forms instead of looking for trouble. It's remarkably quiet."
Trumpet swirled his drink, looking toward Kaito. "The HPSC chairman actually complimented my latest proposal on 'Meta-Human Occupational Safety.' He thinks I'm trying to protect the economy. He has no idea I'm actually securing the right for our people to use their Quirks on the job."
"The best lie is the one that helps your enemy sleep at night, Hanabata-san," Kaito replied.
Rikiya laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "The professional way to run a revolution. Kaito, tell them about the changes you suggested for the individual companies. I want them to hear the logic."
Kaito looked at Curious. "For Shoowaysha... stop the capes. The world has enough stories about heroes. Start publishing 'True Stories.' Get the biographies of the people the hero system threw away. The kid abandoned because his power was 'scary.' The mother who lost her home because a hero leveled her block to catch a petty thief."
"Biographical stories?" Curious tilted her head. "People read fantasy for escapism, Kaito. Why would they want to read about a tragedy?"
"People want to feel like someone is listening to them," Kaito said. "You aren't just giving them a book; you're giving them a reason to be angry. If they read a story that looks like their own life, they don't need a speech from us to join. They'll do it because they feel like we're the only ones who see them. It's not escapism; it's validation."
Curious tapped her finger against her chin. "A mirror instead of a dream. I like that. I've already got a team looking into the different records."
Kaito turned to Skeptic. "How is the model coming along?"
Skeptic finally looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "The simulation is at ninety-four percent. I've mapped the traffic, the power grids, and the police response times for most of Japan. But your new variables... the 'Market Shifting' and the 'Civilian Mood' indices... they're keeping me from hitting the ninety-nine percent mark. I can't start the next phase of the digital takeover until the numbers are perfect."
"Then keep working on the numbers," Kaito said.
'He's completely obsessed. He won't authorize a single field operation until his game tells him he's won. As long as I keep giving him more variables to crunch, he'll keep the army sitting in their rooms waiting for a green light. It's the perfect delay.'
Trumpet raised his glass toward the group. "My move to the middle is working, too. I'm not the 'Radical' anymore. I'm the man who talks about 'Safety Regulations and Mental Health.' I actually got invited to a gala by a HPSC official last night. They think I'm playing their game now."
"Let them think that," Kaito said. "The more you look like a regular politician, the more power you have to change the rules. A rebel gets arrested. A statesman writes the law that stops the arrest."
Rikiya leaned back, watching his team.
They were debating budgets and talking about editorial calendars like a real board of directors.
"You've turned my movement into a real institution, Arisaka-san," Rikiya said, his eyes full of respect. "And for the first time, I think we're actually going to get results that last."
"I'm just cleaning up the waste, President," Kaito said, standing up. "My contract with Detnerat is done tonight. I appreciate the dinner."
"You're a Main Member now, Kaito," Rikiya said, sliding a matte-black coin across the stone table. "You don't need a contract to be part of the family."
Kaito picked up the coin and put it in his pocket.
'I've turned a cult into a bunch of office workers and lobbyists. Now I just have to make sure they don't notice it happened.'
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Minato Ward – Arisaka Consulting
Date: One Week Later | 09:00 AM
The hallway outside Kaito's private office was a silent battlefield of expensive suits and tactical gear.
Pro-hero managers, veteran sidekicks, and even a few heroes in civilian clothes sat on the leather benches, eyeing each other like rivals.
Kaito sat at his desk, the surface nearly buried under physical files.
He had purposely turned off his digital notifications; the sheer volume of requests after the Best Jeanist ranking shift was enough to crash a server.
BZZZZT.
The intercom on his desk clicked. A temp assistant he'd hired for the week spoke through the speaker.
"Sir, the representative from the Crust Agency is here. He says the Hero Billboard update has the Boss 're-evaluating his entire defensive strategy' and they won't leave until they have a consultation date."
"Send him in," Kaito said.
Ding.
The door opened.
A man in a sharp, metallic-grey suit walked in, looking like he'd been drinking coffee for twenty-four hours straight.
"Arisaka-san, thank you," the manager said, dropping a thick folder on the desk. "Crust is the Shield Hero. He's the best at taking hits, but against that villain in the Sky Egg incident, he was just a stationary target. He's tired of being the 'wall' that people just go around. We want him to move the way you taught Jeanist to move."
Kaito flipped through the file. "Crust relies on his armor to solve every problem. If I take this on, I'm going to make him stop hiding behind his shields. He'll have to learn to read the street before the fight even starts. Is he ready for that?"
"He's ready to do whatever it takes to stay in the Top 10," the manager promised.
"I'll review his patrol logs," Kaito said. "Next."
_-_-_-_
11:45 AM
The smell of expensive cologne and stress filled the room.
The manager of the Shishido Agency—the Lion Hero—was pacing back and forth in front of Kaito's window.
"The property damage claims are killing us, Arisaka-san!" the manager pleaded. "Shishido is a powerhouse, but his last three arrests in the warehouse district cost more in repairs than the villains actually stole. The insurance companies are calling him a 'natural disaster.' We need a way to wrap these fights up without leveling the block."
"Shishido fights with his gut," Kaito noted. "You're asking me to teach a predator how to be a scalpel."
"I'm asking you to save his career! If he drops any further in the rankings because of his repair bills, we're finished."
"I'll look at the damage reports," Kaito said
_-_-_-_
01:30 PM
The office went quiet as an older man in traditional traveling clothes and light chest-plate armor walked in.
He didn't bring a manager.
Yoroi Musha, the veteran Rank 9 Hero, sat across from Kaito. His presence was heavy, rooted in decades of history.
"The world is moving too fast for an old sword, Arisaka-kun," Yoroi Musha said.
His voice was calm, but there was a flicker of genuine worry in his eyes. "During the Sky Egg. I saw myself standing there while the world changed around me. My sidekicks are young; they deserve a leader who understands this new era."
"It's about how you use your presence, Yoroi-san," Kaito said respectfully. "You don't need to be faster; you just need to be in the right spot before the villain even thinks of moving."
The old hero gave a short, stiff bow. "I will wait for your instructions."
_-_-_-_-_
03:00 PM
A sidekick from the Gang Orca Agency stood by the desk, presenting a series of public opinion charts.
"Sakamata-san is concerned," the sidekick explained. "People are starting to find his sonic blasts 'unrefined' compared to the way Jeanist is handling things now. After the loss at Sky Egg, his ranking is unstable. We want that carbon-wire system you developed."
"I don't sell gear," Kaito said, leaning back. "I sell a way of working. If he wants the wire, he has to accept the rules that come with it. No more wide-area blasts in crowded zones."
"He's already agreed to the terms," the sidekick replied.
_-_-_-_-_
04:30 PM
BZZZZT.
"Last two, sir," the assistant's voice crackled. "The manager from the Hawks Agency... and a woman from the Endeavor Agency who just pushed him out of the way."
Kaito rubbed his temples. "Send the Hawks rep in first. Quickly."
Creaak.
The door opened.
A man in a light blue suit named Takagi stepped in.
He moved with a restless, nervous energy, clutching a business card and a crate of expensive, gourmet chicken.
"Mr. Arisaka! Truly an honor!" Takagi chirped, setting the chicken on a side table. "I'm from the Hawks Agency. Look, Hawks is the fastest-rising pro we've ever seen. He's going to hit the Top 20 soon, and the HPSC wants him to be the new face of Japan. But he's outrunning his own support team. He's literally doing three days' worth of work in three hours, and the paperwork is a disaster."
Kaito looked at the card.
He knew exactly what this was. The HPSC wanted their 'Golden Boy' under Kaito's wing so they could figure out how he was outmaneuvering their regulations.
"Hawks is fast, but his routes are set by the HPSC, not his own agency," Kaito said. "If I take him on, I decide where he flies. Will the Commission allow that?"
Takagi's smile wavered. "That's... a conversation for later. But Hawks said he'd pay whatever you ask if it means he can stop worrying about his agency's backlog."
"I'll think about it, Takagi-san. I'll send you a response by Friday."
Takagi glanced at the door nervously. "Please, Arisaka-san. Hawks is literally flying circles around his own logistics. If we don't get a system in place, the HPSC is going to force a handler on him. We'd rather it be you."
"Thank you! For the time." Takagi scrambled out of the room as if he were being chased.
SLAM.
The office doors were kicked open, hitting the walls with a violent bang that shook the frames.
Kaito didn't move.
Moe Kamiji—Burnin'—marched in.
She was wearing a heavy leather jacket over her hero suit, her green flaming hair flickering with enough heat to make the air in the office shimmer.
She ignored the crate of chicken and slammed a black leather folder onto Kaito's desk.
THUD.
"Long time no see, Arisaka. Endeavor doesn't wait for a response," Burnin' said and she pulled a folder out. "And he doesn't send bird meat as a bribe. Look at the paper."
Kaito opened the folder.
It was a blank check from the Endeavor Support Corp, signed in thick, aggressive ink by Enji Todoroki.
"Rank three," Kaito said, glancing at the check. "I saw the billboards. Jeanist took his spot."
"The Boss is losing his mind," Burnin' said, sitting in a chair and throwing her boots onto the corner of Kaito's desk.
"He's spent the last week turning his private gym into a furnace. He watched the news footage of Jeanist ending a fight in ten seconds with zero damage, and he realized his fire is starting to look like an old tool. He's obsessed with power, but he's smart enough to see that effectiveness is the only thing the public cares about now."
Kaito looked at the blank check. "If I sign this, Kamiji-san, your boss loses his autonomy. I will rewrite his patrol routes. I will tell him exactly when he is allowed to use his quirk and when he has to stay back. He is a man of massive pride. Is he actually going to listen?"
"He's desperate," Burnin' said, her eyes turning serious. "He wants Rank 1. He thinks if he uses your 'way of moving,' he can finally beat All Might. He's not doing this because he likes you. He's doing it because he hates being number three."
Kaito leaned back, his fingers touching the matte-black MLA coin in his pocket.
'Endeavor is the most destructive force in the country. If I can get a handle on him and turn that agency into a precise machine, I can settle the entire Kanto region.'
"Tell Endeavor I accept," Kaito said. "I'll be at his office Monday at dawn. Tell him to have his last five years of damage reports and budget sheets ready. I'm going to start by showing him how much waste his pride has cost him."
Burnin' grinned, a bright flash of green flame erupting from her hair. "I'll tell him. Try not to get toasted on your first day, Arisaka. I'd hate to lose a good manager so soon."
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Musutafu – Takoba Municipal Beach Park
Date: Saturday | 04:00 PM
The air at Takoba Beach was thick with the smell of salt, rust, and rotting garbage.
It was a massive, sprawling junkyard of refrigerators, old cars, and twisted metal that had been abandoned by the city for decades.
Splaash.
Sploosh.
Shhhh.
The waves crashed against the shore, washing more plastic onto the sand.
In the center of the mess, Izuku Midoriya was working.
He was twelve years old now. The scrawny, trembling kid who used to hide in the back of the class was gone.
His shoulders were broad, his arms were corded with lean muscle, and his movements were steady and deliberate.
He wore a dark green jumpsuit that was stained with grease and salt.
CLANG.
Izuku heaved a rusted refrigerator door onto a pile of scrap.
He didn't look tired. He looked focused.
He was wearing a pair of black Stability Braces on his wrists, modified gear inspired by Detnerat's latest tech.
Sitting on top of a stack of old tires a few yards away, Kuro watched him.
The cat's fur was clean despite the environment, his eyes tracking every move Izuku made.
MEOW.
"I know, Kuro! Almost done with the North sector!" Izuku called out.
His voice had dropped an octave. It carried a confidence that hadn't been there a year ago.
He wiped sweat from his forehead and looked at the massive pile of trash.
"If I use the kinetic anchor in the boots, I can pivot the weight of the truck chassis without straining my lower back. It's all about the center of gravity"
Izuku reached down and gripped the bumper of a rusted sedan. He took a deep breath, planted his feet, and engaged the braces.
H-ZTT.
The hum of the gear was barely audible over the waves.
With a slow, steady pull, Izuku dragged the heavy metal across the sand, his muscles tensing but his form staying perfect.
He had noticed this area when he was doing his vigilante works a month ago. Izuku and Kuro had apprehended a bank robbery villain that was still using trigger drugs.
He and Kuro climbed their way down from the dumpsite to the bay.
From then on aside from doing vigilantism at night, he decided to clean up this place and make it new again.
_-_-_-_
Fifty yards away, hidden behind a rusted van, Katsuki Bakugo was watching.
He had been trailing Izuku for a month. He didn't know why.
It had started as a nagging irritation. Deku had changed. He wasn't "Deku" anymore.
He didn't flinch when Bakugo walked past him in the halls. He didn't stutter.
Creaak.
Bakugo gripped the edge of the van, his knuckles turning white.
'What the hell is he doing? He's been coming here every day for weeks. Cleaning... garbage? Since when does he have that kind of strength?'
Bakugo watched as Izuku lifted a heavy steel beam and carried it toward the recycling pile.
Izuku's movements were fast and effective. There was no wasted energy.
'I tried to grab his shoulder last week and he wasn't even there. He just... stepped aside. He didn't even look at me. He just kept walking.'
The insecurity in Bakugo's chest burned hotter than his explosions.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to blast the whole beach to rubble just to see Izuku flinch again.
But he stayed in the shadows, his eyes locked on the boy he used to bully.
He noticed the cat.
The black-and-white cat was sitting on the tires, staring directly at the van where Bakugo was hiding.
"..."
Bakugo froze.
The cat didn't hiss. It didn't meow. It just watched him with a look of bored, feline judgment.
Bakugo felt like the cat knew exactly why he was there. It felt like the cat was laughing at him.
'Stupid cat,' Bakugo thought, his palms beginning to smoke. 'I could blast that furball into next week.'
But he didn't move.
He watched Izuku Midoriya—the Quirkless "nothing" of the neighborhood—perform hours of backbreaking labor without a single complaint.
He saw the way Izuku's body had transformed into a machine of lean muscle and endurance.
Izuku stopped and looked out at the ocean. He didn't see Bakugo. He just saw the horizon.
"Half a year. Six months should be enough to bring this place back to life." Izuku turned back to the trash, his eyes burning with a quiet, terrifying determination.
Bakugo stepped back, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. It wasn't Deku's strength that scared him. It was the look in his eyes.
Bakugo turned and ran.
He ran back toward the city, the sound of Izuku's heavy lifting echoing in his ears.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
MEOW. purr.
Behind him, Kuro let out a slow, satisfied purr.
The cat looked at the spot where the blonde boy had been hiding, then looked back at Izuku.
_-_-_-_-_
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