Chapter 12: The Burden of Evidence
The observation room remained paralyzed in a state of clinical, suffocating silence. The usual post-battle analysis, typically filled with All Might's boisterous laughter and the students' excited chatter, was absent. All Might himself stood with his massive, scarred hands white-knuckled against the guardrail. His gaze was fixed on the screen where the "judicial void" had just collapsed. Katsuki Bakugo, the class's most explosive and untamable force, was on his knees. He wasn't yelling. He wasn't sparking. He was staring at his trembling palms as if they belonged to a stranger.
"Young Bakugo... he's completely hollowed out," All Might whispered, his signature grin replaced by a grim, thin line. "That wasn't just a defeat. It was an erasure of his very identity. To take a student's Quirk in a training exercise... even temporarily... it feels less like heroism and more like an execution."
Beside him, Shota Aizawa was typing with frantic precision into his tablet, his brow deeply furrowed as he analyzed the energy readouts. "It's not a standard cancellation, All Might. When I use Erasure, I'm just shutting the 'valve' of the Quirk factor. The pressure is still there, just contained. But look at the readings from Higuruma's sphere." He turned the tablet around.
"The energy didn't just stop; it was relocated," Aizawa continued, his voice dropping to a low, troubled raspy tone. "For three minutes, Bakugo didn't have a Quirk factor at all. Higuruma didn't just break the rules of the game; he changed the physics of the courtroom."
The Walk of the Justiciar
Outside the training building, the dust of Bakugo's final explosion was still settling. Hiromi walked out first. His charcoal-grey suit was impossibly crisp, lacking even a speck of debris, as if the world itself refused to stain his resolve. He didn't look like a student who had just won a high-stakes combat trial; he looked like a senior partner leaving a successful litigation.
Behind him, Momo Yaoyorozu walked with a focused, predatory grace. She wasn't celebrating the win. Instead, her eyes were scanning the perimeter, cataloging the reactions of the hidden cameras and the teachers. She had already moved past the "test"—she was already thinking about the "precedent."
They were intercepted in the tunnel by All Might and Aizawa. The air between them crackled with a tension that surpassed the battle itself.
"Young Higuruma! A word!" All Might boomed, though the usual heartiness was replaced by a heavy, paternal concern. "That power... 'Deadly Sentencing.' It is a terrifying tool. To strip a peer of their Quirk... do you realize the psychological damage you've dealt? A hero's job is to inspire, not to leave their opponents in a state of total existential despair!"
Hiromi stopped. He turned slowly, his dark, weary eyes meeting All Might's bright blue gaze. The height difference was nearly two feet, yet as Hiromi spoke, he seemed to loom over the Number One Hero.
"Despair is the natural state of a defendant who realizes their power cannot buy them a 'Not Guilty' verdict," Hiromi said, his voice flat and clinical. "You see a student losing his spark. I see a reckless individual who utilized excessive force with intent to cause grievous bodily harm. I did not 'strip' him of his power, All Might-san. I placed his Quirk in legal escrow until he proves he possesses the maturity to wield it without endangering society. Is that not the very core of your 'Hero Society'?"
"This is a school, Higuruma," Aizawa interjected, his eyes glowing red for a brief, warning second. "Your 'Domain' creates a space where you are the sole arbiter. You are the judge, the jury, and the bailiff. That is a dangerous, unchecked authority."
"If the current authorities were doing their jobs, Sensei, my 'Domain' wouldn't need to exist," Hiromi replied, adjusting his tie with practiced ease. "You teach these children that their Quirks are gifts. I am teaching them that their Quirks are Liabilities. If they cannot justify their actions to the scale of justice, they have no right to the power they hold. If you find that 'dangerous,' perhaps you should audit your own curriculum."
He walked past them without waiting for a rebuttal. Momo followed, pausing only briefly to look Aizawa in the eye. Her gaze was cold, devoid of her former self-doubt. "He isn't trying to be a villain, Aizawa-sensei. He's simply the only one here who refuses to look away from the 'collateral damage' your heroes leave behind."
The Strategic Summit: Strategic Meeting 01
By sunset, the Higuruma estate's influence had already begun to move. In the quiet, mahogany-scented corners of the U.A. library, Hiromi and Momo sat at a secluded table. Surrounded by thick, leather-bound volumes of Constitutional Law and pre-Quirk Era statutes, they looked less like students and more like a shadow cabinet.
Momo's laptop was open, displaying a complex, encrypted organizational chart. "The Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC) has already flagged your file, Hiromi," she whispered, her fingers flying across the keys. "My father's contacts say they're calling you 'The Great Equalizer.' They're terrified of a power that can strip a Pro-Hero of their status instantly."
"Fear is a confession of guilt," Hiromi muttered, his eyes never leaving the case file he was reading. "They've built a world where top-ranked heroes are 'too big to fail.' They've legalized negligence under the guise of 'heroic necessity.' We need to accelerate the timeline for the Higuruma & Yaoyorozu Judicial Agency."
"Agreed," Momo said, her voice hardening with a new, fierce resolve. "If we wait until graduation, they'll have three years to lobby for a law that bans your Domain. We need to register the agency as a private consultancy now. My family's legal team is already drafting the paperwork. We will provide 'Internal Audit' services for hero agencies—starting with the ones that have the highest civilian casualty rates."
Hiromi finally looked up. The flickering lamp light caught the dark intensity in his eyes—and the reflected devotion in hers. "We start small. We find the mid-tier agencies taking bribes to ignore 'Quirk accidents.' We build a mountain of evidence that even the Number One Hero can't ignore. We aren't just opening an agency, Momo. We're opening a cold-case file on the entire era."
The Ideological Collision: The Green Witness
"I... I can't let you do that, Higuruma-kun!"
The voice trembled but held firm. From the shadows of the tall bookshelves, Izuku Midoriya stepped out. He was clutching his "Hero Analysis for the Future" notebook so tightly his knuckles were white. He had clearly been listening, his face pale with a mixture of horror and conviction.
"Midoriya-kun," Hiromi said, not sounding surprised. "Eavesdropping is a violation of the Student Code of Conduct, but I suspect you're here to give me a closing argument on the power of 'Hope.'"
"It's not just hope!" Midoriya cried, stepping into the light. "Heroes are supposed to be symbols! All Might saves everyone because he wants them to feel safe! If you start 'auditing' everyone and taking away their Quirks because they made a mistake, you'll just make people afraid to act. You'll be a tyrant who rules through fear!"
Hiromi stood up. The sound of his chair scraping against the floor echoed like a gunshot in the silent library. He walked toward Midoriya until he was inches away, his shadow completely swallowing the smaller boy.
"You worship a man who is a god, Midoriya. But gods don't pay for the buildings they knock down. They don't hear the cries of the families who are 'collateral damage' in their glorious battles because they're too busy posing for the cameras," Hiromi's voice was a low, vibrating growl. "I am not here to be a symbol. I am here to be the Scale. A symbol can be broken, but the Law is immortal."
"But who judges you?!" Midoriya shouted, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration. "If you have the power to take everyone else's voice away, who holds you accountable? You're acting like you're above everyone else!"
Hiromi paused, a small, grim smile—the ghost of a weary defense attorney—touching his lips. "The Law does, Midoriya. If I ever violate the very statutes I enforce, my Judgeman will turn his scales on me. I am bound by the verdict just as much as the defendant. Can your 'Symbol of Peace' say his power is bound by anything other than his own will?"
Midoriya had no answer. He stood paralyzed as Hiromi and Momo packed their belongings. As they walked past him, Momo cast a side-long, protective glance at Midoriya—not a look of a classmate, but of a partner ensuring no witnesses interfered with the plan.
"The audit has officially begun," Hiromi whispered as they left. "And the record will reflect the truth."
...
Author's Note:
In this expanded chapter, I really wanted to highlight the 'Civil War' of ideals. Midoriya represents the traditional Shonen hope, while Hiromi represents the cynical, Seinen reality of a lawyer who has seen the system fail. The dynamic between Hiromi and Momo is also evolving; she isn't just following him, she's the one providing the corporate and political armor he needs to fight the HPSC. This volume is all about setting up the 'Hero Agency' that will eventually challenge the entire MHA world!