𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞; 𝐚 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

[3] Prix

   The night following the entrance exams proved to be a relentless ordeal for the contestants, as their secret Kamen Rider identities had been exposed to the world. Social media platforms were flooded with posts about the enigmatic masked vigilantes battling monsters during the U.A. Entrance Exam. It wasn't just the Kamen Riders who faced scrutiny; U.A. itself was under the intense scrutiny of the press due to this breach in security. Tarou sat in his room, his gaze fixed on the live broadcast of Principal Nezu addressing the situation, his sigh echoing the weight of the circumstances.

Closing his phone, Tarou surveyed his disheveled surroundings, realizing that he had neglected his room for several nights. His living quarters were situated on the top floor of his foster parents' home, accessible not through a conventional door but by a set of stairs. The sloping ceiling provided ample space to hang various items, such as the old Christmas lights he had strung up—a makeshift solution since the room lacked a proper ceiling light or fan to combat the sweltering summer heat. The cool breeze wafted through two large windows, offering a brief respite. Hidden beneath his bed, a collapsible ladder awaited his patrol nights.

His foster parents, though kind-hearted, were perpetually absent, their late nights keeping them away from home. Tarou couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment, the limited time they spent together barely warranted the title of "parents." Making his way over to his desk, he glanced at the old photos salvaged from his previous home. Most of them bore the scars of fire damage, a poignant reminder of the tragedy that befell his family. Though marred, the photos held a cherished place in his heart, and he couldn't bear to part with them.

Throughout his life, Tarou had devoted days and nights to gathering information to expose those responsible for the suffering inflicted upon his family. Yet, time and again, his efforts fell short, his theories and plans riddled with loopholes that allowed the culprits to evade justice. He understood that not all heroes were paragons of virtue, and any attempt to conceal this reality only highlighted the fragility of a society centered around heroism.

And now he was drinking the poison he made.

 Inside a modest Mustafu residence, a sense of tension hung heavy in the air. Harumi Shuzenji pushed her food around her plate, the room illuminated by a dim light that mirrored her somber mood. Her mother's cane echoed on the floor as she made her way to the table, joining Harumi for dinner. The strained relationship between the two was palpable. "So, how was the test today, Harumi?" her mother asked.

"It was... eventful," Harumi replied, her words laced with half-truths.

The facade of normalcy clung to the atmosphere as her mother continued, "Do you still want to be in the Hero Course? You know, I can pull some strings to get you into a more comfortable class..." Her voice dripped with a mix of concern and manipulation.

Harumi swallowed the slow-cooked pork, wiping her mouth hastily. "No, I don't want you interfering with my schedule. I earned my place at U.A. through my own efforts and merit, not your influence. I want to be in these classes," she retorted, her anger rising. It was far from the first time her mother had attempted to sway her, these dinner conversations becoming battlegrounds where her mother tried to coax her into transferring to a "comfortable" class—one where she could exert control and ensure Harumi's safety.

Her mother sighed, the weight of disappointment evident, and they continued to eat in silence. "Alright, if that's what you want, then I can't stop you," her mother conceded, her tone dripping with a subtle attempt to guilt trip Harumi. "Did you make any new friends at the exam?"

"A few," Harumi replied tersely.

"I saw those dreadful monsters on the monitors, it was quite frightening to witness everyone in a panic," her mother shared, feigning concern. "I tried to find you, you know?"