Amazing work by thejunestone on deviantART.
Take a moment to look around you, and appreciate the moment you're in. Things can be hard at times, but things do get better; and if things are going well for you please take this moment to appreciate it.
Beta: emplatinum
Triple update 'cause it's my birthday :D Special birthday wishes for all my fellow July babies and Cancer buddies.
Big beautiful fanart by niasweet71 on deviantART! Please check it out when you get the chance. :)
◟(◕◡◕❀)
"You're gonna intern at your dad's?" I asked, genuinely surprised by Shōto's choice.
Shōto gave a small shrug, sitting at my kitchen table and looking steadily at the glass of lemonade in front of him. Baba was humming something about first love while she mixed the batter for sugar cookies. She occasionally burst into full blown song, doing a little twirl around the kitchen and drawing a smile out of Shōto as he watched her dance without a care in the world.
Shōto took a sip from the lemonade after another heartbeat of silence. "I decided to learn what I can from him. I'm going to surpass him eventually, and I need—I need to learn how to better control my left side."
I rested my cheek in my hand, still staring at my friend with blatant worry. "I won't stop you if you think this is best, but I'm still worried about you."
"I know. You worry more than there are stars in the sky," Shōto told me.
"Doesn't she?" Baba chimed in, "Oh, darling, won't you save the last dance for me?"
Shōto and I smiled as Baba broke into a completely different song halfway through her humming. She started scooping out the sugar cookies from the batter and placing them on a sheet.
The door to our patio opened up and Papa and a couple other men stepped into the quaint kitchen. Papa gave a small cheerful wave to Shōto and me. "Sho-chan, are you here for breakfast?"
"Yes, sir," Shōto said. "And cookies."
"No one can resist Mimi-chan's cookies," Uncle Tashi said, slapping Papa over the shoulder. "Kiyo-chan, Sho-chan, would you two mind helping us?"
Shōto and I immediately stood up from our table, ready to do whatever was needed.
"That old hag has a hole in her roof, but we've got to head over to Sakura's place to fix up their walls and fencing," Tashi said.
"Stop calling your sister an old hag," Baba scolded Tashi, waving her cookie-dough covered spoon at him.
"I call her an old hag because she is an old hag," Uncle retorted.
"You're older than she is!"
"But I have the heart of a twenty-year-old," Uncle Tashi declared, pounding his chest.
"We'll take care of Auntie Hanako," I said quickly before Tashi and Baba could get into another singing contest.
"Thanks, Kiyo-chan. Use the wood in our shed, since Lord knows that hag doesn't have any on hand," Papa said. Baba promptly swatted him on the shoulder the moment he said hag, which made Papa laugh and head back out. Uncle Tashi and Naru followed him out shortly, both grinning cheekily at the huffing grandmother who looked more than ready to paddle them.
Shōto followed me out towards our back shed, accepting the extra straw hat we kept inside, and doing a quick spray over with the sunscreen. I slipped on my work boots, tucking in my jeans. I used my bubbles to grab an abundance of wood while Shōto carried one of our sets of tool boxes (we had collected almost twenty over the years since that seemed to be a go-to Christmas gift for Papa for some of our neighbors).
Technically it was illegal to use Quirks outside of certain work zones and home, but no one would report me for using it to carry wood.
Especially since everyone used their Quirk willy-nilly around here.
"Thanks for helping me out," I said to Shōto as we walked over to Hanako's home. Her husband was currently in America on a business trip and wouldn't return for another week. Not that he would have been able to fix the roof because holy smokes Uncle Eric could not use a hammer without breaking his thumb, or nailing something into his foot.
"It's no worry. Learning this stuff is useful," Shōto replied. "You have to do this all the time when you live here, right?"
"Not all the time," I defended. "Maybe six times a year, unless we went through a really bad storm. We're usually pretty good about keeping up to date with the roads and houses. Sakura-neechan is a bit of an exception, though."
"Who's, uh, Sakura?"
"She's new here," I answered. "Sakura-neechan moved here about a month ago with her two kids, Rika and Haru. They lived in the city all their lives, but I guess Rika and Haru have some healthy issues so Nee-chan moved here. They, uh, they don't know anything about farming, but they're definitely trying. We sometimes get cityfolk—er, I mean—people from the city that come and go during the summer, but they've never stuck around. Papa and the others feel like she'll stay around so we're trying to help her spruce up the old dump she bought. It was a real mess, and she doesn't have a lot of money."
"Oh," Shōto said.
"Wanna visit them after we fix up the roof?" I offered. "Rika and Haru are super cute."
"Okay," Shōto said.
I grinned brightly. "Good. I love kids. I want, like, a million of them when I'm older."
Shōto tugged down his hat. "A million?"
"Yep! Maybe two million."
"Oh," Shōto said, looking down at the road.
"I want to adopt like three. But I want to try the whole pregnancy thing once," I carried on. "What about you, Sho-chan?"
"Adoption sounds nice," Shōto answered. "I haven't put much thought into it, to be honest. I, uh, will now, though."
"Okay. Ah, Auntie's just up the hill. Let's get that roof nice and patched up."
Shōto and I headed up the hill, traveling the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Auntie Hanako was working the melon patch in the back, looking up long enough to wave us in and say, "Ice cream in the fridge, help yourselves darlings. Thank you so much!"
"I smell cake, too," I called back out, poking my head into her home.
"No more than one slice, missy! I know your Baba is making cookies too."
"Party pooper," I muttered under my breath, heading back outside and hopping on a flat bubble. I floated Shōto and myself up, and we set to work on patching up the roof. I wasn't very good at shingles, so Uncle Ruka would have to come back out and finish it, but this would keep nature out until then.
It didn't take more than half an hour to cut the wood up and nail it in. We did a couple layers—just to be sure—and we grabbed a couple cups of tea and cake to go; I managed to persuade Auntie to let me take some slices to Sakura and her children.
I teleported us over there right as Haru and Rika barreled out of the front porch like hell was at their heels. Both were covered in dirt, and Sakura was soon chasing after them, "No! You need to wash up for lunch, children!"
Shōto and I immediately grabbed both children before they could get further than past the front porch, scooping each dirt-caked one up. Sakura's big blue eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled shyly. "Oh, Kiyo-chan, thank you. You are?"
"This is Sho-chan, er, Shōto," I said, not letting go of Haru even as he wiggled furiously. "Need help, Nee-chan?"
"I couldn't impose, Kiyo-chan—"
I held out my other arm to take Rika, and Shōto placed the fidgeting girl in it. I had a child underneath each arm, and a big grin on my face. "Take me to the bath. Let's see if we can get these rascals cleaned up."
Sakura bowed to me, and my phone dinged. I looked over at Shōto, and my best friend grabbed it out of my pocket, flipping it open. "It's a text message from... someone named Bocchan McMurder King?"
"Katsuki," I explained. "Answer him for me? I'll be back in a bit."
"Okay."
Shōto headed around back towards Papa and the others—a decently sized group of seven men and three women—who were working steadily on making Sakura's shed decent once more. Sakura guided me towards the bath, and both children fought valiantly to remain covered in dirt, but I was wise to their mischievous ways.
After much fussing the two were cleaned and dressed and threatened with lack of desserts for an entire week if they got dirty again.
My shirt and overalls got more than a little soaked in the process, but I didn't mind. Sakura looked immeasurably grateful. The poor woman must have been exhausted from such a hectic month. First evicted from her apartment, on top of her children's health issues, she had no choice but to move out here. And moving out here was not something easy for most people who grew up in the city.
We had some basics, certainly, but living there was far from convenient.
Far from it.
You couldn't even see convenient with a telescope, that's how far away it was.
It was worth it, in my opinion, but I understood perfectly well that the transition was not an easy one.
Sakura ushered her children into the living room and gave them some coloring books while she went back to making lunch for the abundance of helpers. I helped her out, and Shōto joined us shortly.
"How's the job hunt going?" I asked her.
"I found an opening at the library a couple towns over," Sakura said with a small, tired smile. "It'll be one hell of a commute, but thankfully the children will be going to school in the fall."
"If you ever need a babysitter literally ask any of the aunties," I told her, perfectly serious.
Sakura gave a small laugh. "I've noticed. I'm going to take out these snacks now."
"Okay, we'll work on the vegetables," I said, looking over at Shōto and grinning. "You always get stuck doing this kind of stuff with me every time you visit."
"Yeah," Shōto said. "Oh well. Did you decide who you wanted to intern under?"
"Oh, yeah. Mirko."
"Mirko? Isn't she a Hunter? I thought you wanted to be a rescue specialist."
I gave a small shrug. "Cactus-sensei and Shishō insisted I ought to give hunting a try. They seem to think I'd be a natural at it."
Shōto looked down at the leek he was chopping up. "I guess. You're very strong, and you can be extremely quiet."
"That's what they said," I said. "I figured I might as well try it, you know? Mirko is one of the top ten heroes, so if I were to learn from anyone, she'd probably be a great teacher."
"I suppose," Shōto allowed. "I remember my father calling her a disagreeable sort."
"That—That doesn't mean a lot from him."
"This is true," Shōto agreed. "Oh. Before I forget, Bakugō-san wanted a rematch with me tonight. Are you okay to bring him here after dinner?"
"Huh? Sure. Wait did he seriously text me to ask for a rematch with you?"
"Not exactly," Shōto said slowly, handing me back my phone.
Katsuki: Bubblegum what the fuck are you doing right now?
Shōto: She is giving two children a bath.
Katsuki: Who the fuck is this then?
Shōto: Shōto Todoroki.
Katsuki: I DEMAND A REMATCH YOU HALF AND HALF BASTARD. THAT LAST MATCH WAS BULLSHIT.
Shōto: Okay.
Katsuki: TONIGHT.
Shōto: Okay.
I read over the messages one last time before texting Katsuki, If you're going to use me like a taxi service I demand a bigger tip next time you cheapskate.
Katsuki: FIGHT ME FOR IT PRINCESS.
Me: I WILL WHOOP YO ASS BOI.
Katsuki's only response was a picture of a middle finger. I decided to put my phone away then and return to helping Sakura make lunch.
We returned home a little before noon, both ravenous for brunch. Baba had quite the spread made, along with her divine sugar cookies. The four of us ate in the blessedly air-conditioned dining room, Papa telling Shōto another one of his wild adventures from childhood with Tashi and Ruka.
Shōto and I lounged around for a while until it was dark, then I picked Katsuki up for his rematch with Shōto—no Quirks allowed—and the two sparred against each other for over an hour before Baba came out, called it a draw, and told us to get to bed since we had school tomorrow.
Of course this didn't make Katsuki happy, so he demanded another rematch next weekend—which Shōto agreed to—before I took him back home.
Shōto and I went to bed after that, Papa warning us to keep the bedroom door open because if he found me curled up in Shōto's bed again ("I can't help it if I naturally seek out heat, Papa!" / "I don't care!") he was gonna have to make him sleep outside in the shed.
All in all, it was a lovely Sunday.
A perfect way to prepare us for Monday, when we would start our internship.
◟(◕◡◕❀)
"You all have your costumes, right?" Aizawa asked flatly, addressing the entire class that had gathered at one of the main stations. "Remember, you aren't allowed to wear them in public. Don't drop them or anything."
"Yes!" Mina shouted gleefully.
"Speak clearly," Aizawa cut in sharply. "It's yes, sir, Ashido."
"Yes, sir," Mina repeated mournfully.
"Make sure you mind your manners with the heroes at your internships. Off you go now," Aizawa finished.
"Yes, sir!" we shouted as one.
I gave a small wave towards Aizawa, Izuku, and Ochaco, since I would be teleporting straight away to Mirko's base. My friends bid me farewell, and off I went.
"Come on in, pinkie," a loud voice called out the moment I landed on the steps to the front door. At the invitation, I turned the door handle and entered the apartment. Cool air greeted me at once and the first thing I saw was a spacious room filled with workout equipment.
It was also covered in dirty clothes, reeked of sweat, and had piles of empty energy drinks thrown about haphazardly. At first impression I was immediately left with the assumption that whoever lived here was either lazy, or a slob. Perhaps both.
My attention eventually fell onto the extremely athletic young woman who lay on a bench press and was currently doing some arm curls. She grinned at me, her smooth dark skin lightly coated in sweat and her lightly-colored hair swept up in a messy bun. Her feral grin seemed at odds with the adorable bunny ears on either side of her head. "Yo!"
"Hello," I greeted in return, smiling politely. "I'm Kiyomi, you must be—"
"Hero names only," she interrupted. "I'm Mirko."
"S-Saki."
"Saki," Mirko repeated, dropping the weight down and standing up in a swift movement. Bright eyes gleamed as they examined me. Mirko gave a slight hmm sound then raised a hand. "Come at me. Let me see what you got, princess."
I shifted stances, setting down my suitcase and slightly raising my hands. I was glad I had chosen to wear practical over cute that day, correctly anticipating I would immediately be put to work.
'She's the current number eight hero—'
(Five too soon)
'—so I can't underestimate her. She's stronger, bigger, and faster than me. Judging by how athletic she is, she's probably equal if not superior to me in flexibility. The only way I'll win—'
"Quirks?" I asked her.
"Go ahead," she said with a purr. "Don't hold back, because I sure as shit won't."
I dropped, teleporting in between her legs and going for a sweeping motion to knock her off her feet. It was an unexpected place to teleport—most people would teleport on the front, or behind, not beneath—so I hoped to catch her off guard.
Her elated grin at this, however, threw me for a loop. She leapt up high into the air, easily hopping up to the second floor—which was when I realized this room's ceiling went all the way to the top of the five story building—and landing on the balcony. "Not bad, princess! I can honestly say I didn't expect that."
"Your reaction time is impeccable, then," I said, looking up at her with a tilt in my head.
"Of course it is," she answered with a scoff. "Come at me again, little girl. I want to see you work for it."
I obliged.
◟(◕◡◕❀)
Our match lasted three hours before Mirko decided she was satisfied with my showing. My wand had dropped down to fifty percent—thankfully I didn't have to use my bubbles, which took up a considerably larger amount of power than simply teleporting—so I was grateful for the chance to rest. Even though I was physically fit, trying to catch someone—and occasionally fight them off—for three hours was tiring.
Mirko, who I had learned had been working out since six that morning, was sweaty but looked exhilarated and gorgeous. It amazed me how some people could be beautiful under any circumstances, and Mirko was undoubtedly one of them.
"Not bad," Mirko said, breathless, "not bad at all. Alright, princess, I'll take you out on patrol... after you clean this place up. It's a fucking mess."
I let out a small sigh at that, looking around the thoroughly messy apartment. "Okay. Where do you keep the trash bags?"
"Underneath the kitchen. Ah, I love it when they don't back talk. Although you're the first kiddo I've agreed to take on. Consider yourself blessed. I hate working in teams; if you can't do it on your own then you're weak," Mirko declared, her rabbit ears raised.
"We'll have to agree to disagree on that end," I said quietly.
Mirko reached over and patted me hard on the top of my head. "Don't be so polite. If you have an issue, speak up. Disagree, say something."
My lips twitched. "Okay. People who usually cry out that working with a team is a weakness, are usually the people who are too afraid to make any deep emotional connections."
"Fuck you," Mirko responded eloquently, still grinning. "I'm not afraid of anything. Working with people only slows me down." She patted the top of my head again roughly. "But there. Doesn't that feel better? Now get to work, princess. I want this place immaculate. Hey, you like pizza? Too bad, I'm gonna order some. Hope you like meatlovers."
Mirko gave a big stretch as she casually walked around the room, her grin never fading.
'A little erratic, but who isn't?' I thought to myself, heading into the kitchen. I was tired and could definitely use a hot bath, but I pushed through. I'd worked on the farm after intensive workouts with Katsuki or Shōto; this wasn't all that different. Besides, heroes had to constantly push themselves to improve.
(Keep mOvInG)
Grabbing the trash bags, I set to work.
◟(◕◡◕❀)
Mirko only came by one more time to bring me my own pizza and a few bottles of water. She headed off to her private work room shortly afterwards, telling me I could go to bed whenever I wanted, and that my room was on the top floor.
I declined, choosing to finish cleaning. The sooner I finished cleaning, after all, the sooner we could go on patrols.
I worked well on into the night, and into the morning. When the sun finally rose up again, I tiredly threw out the last of the trash bags I had filled.
Mirko told me to get some rest, and that night we would go out on our first patrol.
All too happily, I slipped into my provided bed and slept for the rest of the day.
◟(◕◡◕❀)
At nineteen hundred, Mirko and I were dressed in our hero uniforms, about to start our first patrol together.
"Here," Mirko said, handing me something that looked vaguely like a walkie-talkie. I carefully took it, raising an eyebrow when I looked up at her. "This is what we use instead of phones. This has anti-tracking on it, so villains can't trace our location. Leave your real phone behind."
"Oh," I said, accepting it. That sort of made sense.
"I'm a Hunter," Mirko said, her standard feral grin on her face. "I'll do the rescue-stick every now and then, but my primary job is to hunt down the big baddies and give 'em a good beat down. There's nothing better than the feeling of hunting down some dumbasses and watching them pee their pants when yeh find 'em."
She cackled with glee, placing an arm around my shoulders and pulling them in. "You'll see what I'm talking about soon, little princess. With your teleportation you could hunt down anyone. Ha! I bet if you popped up right underneath those fuckers they'd shit their pants."
"That sounds like something I very much do not want to happen when I'm under them," I pointed out.
She laughed, slapping my back. "I'd pay money to see that. Alright, put that walkie away and let's go. Any electronics you got; leave 'em here."
"Sure thing," I agreed easily. I reached behind to my small fanny pack that I kept securely behind my waist and pulled out my phone and GPS. I placed both of them in Mirko's outstretched hands and she tossed them into a safe near the door. I placed my walkie in the pack instead before I closed it.
"Let's hunt down some bitches," Mirko declared, heading out the front door. "We won't hunt anyone too big, since you're a wee baby and all, but I've been saving a couple of thugs just for you."
When I stepped out the front door Mirko shut it behind her.
Mirko patted her white messenger bag once before she pulled out a folder and handed it to me. "Let me see what you can do. That's the fella we'll be hunting. I've already given you his habits, and a list of his usual haunts. Find him, and kick his ass."
I flipped open the folder, scanning over the MiSiSiOn report with narrowed eyes.
Name: Baru Hirakami
Age: 23
Quirk: Knife nails
Wanted for several accounts of attempted homicide, aggravated assault, and robbery.
The summary went on for a few more paragraphs before fading away into a list of locations the culprit was last seen at.
"You have my permission to use your Quirk," Mirko said. "This isn't someone you want to mess around with, even if I would only classify him as a C."
"C?" I murmured, the ranking tugging at some familiar strings in the back of my head.
"Us Hunter Heroes work exclusively on bringing in the baddest of the bad. The Hunter Guild—that's the worldwide organization in charge of us—labels each baddie on a scale. C, which is the most common, means slightly above average thug. Ds are your average thugs. Bs can be a bit tough, especially for a rookie, but if you play it smart you should be okay. As' are reserved for veterans or highly skilled Hunters like myself, and Ss' require teams." Mirko's grin stretched more widely across her face, showing off her canines. "Although I became the a top hero by bagging a couple S dumbasses on my own. Never needed a team, never will."
I gave a slow nod, acknowledging the information. I knew Hunter Heroes operated on a different ranking system than the typical hero, they were held to another standard, as well. Some Hunter Heroes literally had a licence to kill—although such a thing was usually reserved for truly dangerous criminals, like Hero Killer Stain, and they had to pass an abundance of psychological evaluations on a bi-annual basis.
Taking a life, no matter the reason, was an awful thing and should only be reserved as a last resort.
"When you got this punk tied up, let me know and I'll head your way. Other than that? Get outta here. I've got my own patrols to do, kiddo."
Without another word Mirko turned on her heel and leapt up
Time to hunt.
(hunthunthunthunthunt)
Hunting for targets was an art on its own. It required a good amount of predictive, logical, and strategic thinking; a handful of luck; strong instincts; and the physical capability to do so. Aizawa had frequently told me I would make an excellent hunter due to how I naturally walked.
I hadn't been aware that I walked so quietly until Aizawa had pointed it out to me when I was around twelve.
"Like a cat stalking her prey," Aizawa had told me. "Your distribute your weight evenly with every step, and move with extreme care. It's a habit not typically learned by someone your age. It'd be a waste not to capitalize on it."
I knew how to sneak; I knew how to hide in the shadows and more importantly, how to hide in plain sight.
Obnoxiously pink hair, and a bright outfit would normally draw attention.
But to someone with enough talent, they knew how to utilize such odd things in order to hide amongst the populace.
When people thought of hunters they thought of dark colors, quiet stalkers, and a certain level of threat to radiate off of them. Mirko, in her bunny costume, contradicted the first two but exemplified the last thought. Her aura, and her presence, radiated danger and violence. Prey—the hunted—unless they were inept, had a basic instinct to sense the threat.
I had read up on Mirko.
She didn't successfully sneak up on her enemies, so much as she literally ran them down with her superior speed and strength. A lot of Hunters—especially younger ones like Mirko—did this. They relied on their strength, and Quirk, to catch the perps in the end.
They ultimately had to retire from the Hunting program earlier than others because eventually their bodies and Quirks would fail them.
The ones that last until the end, that always survive, and always capture their prey are the ones who disappear into the crowd.
They're the women who smile kindly before digging the poisoned knife into your back.
They're the grandfatherly men who chat your ear off before they knock you so quickly off your feet you don't even blink.
They're the ditzy girls who look like magical girls or maids before they break your legs in one fell motion.
My bubbly outfit was designed to calm the others around me, to reassure everyone that I was here, and I was helpful, I was kind.
And I was (I hoped). I would help those in need without hesitation. If it was a choice between saving someone and hunting down my prey, I would always choose to save someone.
I would smile and spread hope however I could.
But I fully acknowledged that this outfit could perfectly hide my intentions and I'd be foolish not to take advantage of it.
So while Mirko would hunt on the rooftops, I would casually walk around the streets of the old haunts this man had frequented. I would strike up conversation with the locals, chatting with practiced ease like I would at the café and oh-so-subtly slip in I'm a friend of so-and-so and I haven't seen him in awhile. Do you know if he's okay?
"Oh him? I saw him over at such and such."
"Thank you so much! I really hope he's okay."
"He looked a little off last I saw. I think you should check up on him."
"I'll go do that, thanks."
"Adorable outfit, by the way! You'll do great at that cosplay con, I bet."
"Thanks!"
Within the hour I caught sight of him ducking down an alley and likely heading towards a different bar. I teleported into the next alley over, anticipating him to come down, and when he turned down it and saw me—
He took one look at me and grinned. "Hey, kiddo. Halloween's not here, yet."
"How rude! As if I would wear something this cute on Halloween. I'm Saki!"
"Lee," the prey lied. "You lost, little girl?"
"I'm waiting for someone," I said, looking up at the sky. He started to approach me, his guard dropping quickly. "Whatchya' doing here, mister?"
"Oh this and that," he said, now directly in front of me with a grin that promised nothing nice. "You probably should have stayed ho—"
Two of my bubbles wrapped around each of his legs before my third one rammed itself hard on the back of his neck.
He slumped over, and I merged my two bubbles into one, and used my extra one to bind his wrists.
Satisfied I would be able to hold him for a while, I got out my handcuffs and tied him up properly before I used the walkie to contact Mirko.
She arrived about fifteen minutes later, giving me a thumbs-up. "Atta girl. Only took you an hour, s'not bad for your first time. 'Course he was only a C. Ya know I picked this dumbass special for you."
"Really? What's special about him?" I inquired. "Because he was so easy?"
"Oh, no," Mirko disagreed, shaking her head. "Because he wanted to be an assassin. You know all about that, don't ya?"
'An—'
It clicked.
I turned around towards her, slowly, cooling my features. "For someone who detests teams, it's odd to request an intern."
Mirko's grin didn't leave her face, but a colder spark entered her eyes. "You think?"
"A little blatant about it, aren't you?" I retorted, my voice coming out in a snap. "If you wanted to know, you only had to ask. You didn't have to pretend—"
"I don't pretend," Mirko cut in sharply, dropping her smile. "You performed well enough in the festival to catch my eye. You being who you are was simply the extra motivation I needed to ask you."
"What do you want, then? I barely know the woman."
"She's your mother," Mirko said, her rabbit ears cocked towards me. "I bet you know more than you think."
"What do you want?" I asked again, disgust settling inside of my stomach. It was hard not feel hurt by this revelation. I was behind stoked when I found out one of the top ten heroes in the world had asked me for me. Now, though, she had apparently only requested because of my mother.
The feelings of disappointment and disdain was hard to ignore. I felt physically nauseous, and I clenched my hands into fists. I kept from openly glaring at her—regardless of how I felt, being rude to someone who was technically my superior went against my upbringing.
Even if I definitely wanted to kick her shins.
"What do you know about her?" Mirko asked unabashedly. "Do you have her Quirk?"
My lips curled into a fleeting sneer. "I don't know if I have her Quirk or not. I've never tested it out. As for what I know about her? She was raised to take over the farm. She was loved, and cherished by two wonderful people. Her Quirk didn't fully develop until she was fifteen, and she—and she killed her boyfriend.
"Papa's Quirk is that whenever he eats a strawberry whoever he kisses experiences a minor paralysis. Enough to make them lay still for a minute or two, but they become immune to it for an entire day afterwards. Mother showed signs of this, but her Quirk's paralysis lasted longer and longer as she got older. When she was fifteen she—she wanted to play a prank on her boyfriend. She kissed him, but that time she stopped his heart.
"He died. She ran away. She was a missing person for almost three years before she debuted as an—as an assassin. Baba and Papa didn't know about that for many more years, until the Hero Association approached them to ask about her. Sometime after that she had me, and dropped me off at Baba and Papa's farm. That's all I know."
Mirko hooked her fingers behind her head, leaning back as she regarded me. "You never tested to see if you got her Quirk? Looks like it's genetic."
"I've always said I had an allergy," I muttered. "There's no safe way to test something like that, and it's not something I want. There's no way to help someone with that."
"Hmm," Mirko hummed.
"She's on your list, I bet," I continued to mutter quietly. "Shishō told me she's made it into her own little top ten. You think you can get to her through me? Or find her because of me? You're only wasting your time. She wants nothing to do with me."
"You're still her child," Mirko pointed out idly. "Whatever you want to think, that's a connection that doesn't go away." Mirko shifted her posture. "Look, kid, you're gonna do well in school. You'll graduate in no time and then you'll be one of my colleagues. While it's not advertised who Death's Kiss's family is, people with the connections—like myself and any good Hunter—will figure it out. They're gonna judge you, and test you. I chose you because I wanted to judge you for myself. Mainly, I wanted to see if you would be the type to help your mother."
"Don't be absurd," I snapped out. "She's a murderer. I know all about the families she's ruined in her greed. She's not the kind of person I would ever help. And just because she's my mother doesn't make her my mom."
Mirko's grin returned. "I believe yah. Let's get this guy over to the nearest precinct before he wakes up."
"Fine," I bit out.
◟(◕◡◕❀)
"You did well," Mirko said to me when we returned that night. "Your Quirk is tailor made for hunting. Have you thought about it?"
"Yes," I admitted quietly, still upset with her and not really in the mood for conversation.
"You should ask for some tracking tips, then. There's a hunting course in your second year, and all those psychological mumbo jumbo can be real helpful," Mirko continued. "You'd make a good Hunter, I bet. When you're all grown up, I might even let you help me clean up."
"You clearly need a maid," I said, my lips twitching.
"Too true, princess, too true. What do you want to eat? I'm starved. Noodles sound good? Yeah, they do. Alright I'm gonna order some noodle, what do you want kiddo?"
"Whatever is fine," I answered her.
"That's the spirit. But, uh, hey I'm serious about the Hunter part. You got some killer instincts, and your footsteps don't make a sound. It took me years before I could be quiet like that, ya'know? Really think about it, kiddo."
(Better to hunt)
(than be hunted.)
I watched her head down the hallway and go into her private workroom, the queasy knot in my stomach slowly untangling itself. Talking about mother always left me conflicted. Baba and Papa sung praises of her—even to this day—and they both adored her. No matter what she did they would always love her.
Yet she threw all of that away.
Yes what she did was awful, but it was an accident. When Quirks are stabilizing these things can happen. No one was to blame, it was simply a tragedy. If she had stayed things would have been okay for her. She'd have to go to mandated therapy, attend some classes, and whatnot; but that wasn't so bad. People didn't go to jail over things they couldn't control—certainly not minors—and she had no way of knowing her Quirk would kill him. It never had before.
At worst she would have had to spend a couple years in juvenile detention, but when she got out she'd have the entire community there to support her. She'd keep working on the farm, go to therapy, and grow up into a relatively well-adjusted adult.
Instead she left him there to rot, and ran away.
It was—it was such a stupid choice. Baba and Papa always said—hell, everyone always said—that she wasn't an idiot. She was smart.
She'd have to be smart to evade capture for almost twenty years now, despite being one of the top ten most wanted assassins in the world.
How could someone so smart do something so stupid?
Unless it wasn't an accident.
And that bothered me.
Everyone would swear up and down that that it had to have been an accident, that she could have had no way of knowing.
But if it was an accident, then why did she run off and become an assassin?
It made no logical sense.
Unless it wasn't an accident.
Unless she intended to kill him.
But why? And how would she know what her Quirk did unless she tested it—tested it elsewhere?
All these thoughts made my stomach turn into a ball of yarn. It was all mostly instinct, and theoretical. I hadn't dared bring up the subject to Baba and Papa, and I didn't want to bring it up with Nezu without proof.
'You don't just flip a switch and start killing people. You're either born with it, or you turn into it.'
Yet, for all intents and purposes, when someone glanced at Death's Kiss's file it looked like that's exactly what she had done.
The whole thing stunk of something weird, and it wasn't something I was ready to deal with.
Maybe one day I'd get the whole truth, but that day wasn't today.
'That woman has taken up enough of my thoughts, I won't let her have any more tonight.'
◟(◕◡◕❀)
The next night was another patrol.
"I let you have a go at it last night to see how you think," Mirko said, leaping up onto a rooftop. I followed shortly behind her. "Tonight, though? Tonight you're gonna watch me. I don't wanna hear a peep outta yah until we're back safe, 'kay? We're going for some of the bigger assholes tonight. I know you can handle yourself well enough, but don't go thinkin' yeh can solo these dirtbags."
I made a miming motion of zipping my lips.
Mirko beamed at me. "Atta girl! Alright, keep up."
I kept a distance between us, and I watched her hunt.
She hunted like a rabid wolf.
(Sloppy.)
◟(◕◡◕❀)
"You know what sounds good for tonight? Burgers. Fuck yes. Let's get that shit ordered. What do you want, princess?"
"Whatever," I answered.
She grinned and gave me a thumbs up. "My kind o' girl. Six triple stacked burgers coming up! Oh, uh, hey—you know my old man was the leader to a mob."
At that abrupt confession, I turned towards her with wide eyes. She was still grinning at me. "Parents can suck, sure, but that just means you gotta do better. Your old woman is evil, no doubt about that, so you'll have no problem being better than her, yeah? So don't worry about it too much. If you get your panties in a twist every time someone talks to yeh about her, you'll never get anywhere. And if you wanna be a professional hero, you can bet your pink little butt that people are gonna find out. So prepare yourself, princess, got it?"
Words failed me momentarily, and by the time I could scrounge up a thank you she had already entered her private workroom and shut the door.
Mirko took me out on a couple more hunts since then. She hunted exactly as before; using her raw physical prowess to chase villains down rather than catching them by surprise. She never did anything to hide her blatant—well, I wouldn't call it bloodlust but it was certainly similar—desire to harm them.
Her confession about her heritage made me less irritated with her. She seemed—seemed—to honestly want to warn me what it would mean to come into the professional world with a villain as a mother. Even if I had not talked to the woman in fifteen years it wouldn't stop others from looking at me with suspicion whenever Death's Kiss was involved.
I knew that beforehand—Nezu had told me such—but I had yet to experience it until Mirko took me under her wing.
All things considered she wasn't a terrible person for choosing me to be her intern because of my mother.
I might even have done the same thing in her place.
That being said I didn't like the way she hunted.
It felt... crude.
(Amateurish)
(Basic)
(boring)
When she tried to make me follow her lead, I purposefully kept a certain distance between us and only did the bare minimum. She and I had very different views on how to hunt villains, and how to capture them.
I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she had already applied for a license to kill from the Hunter Guild, she was simply that overtly aggressive.
◟(◕◡◕❀)
Nothing else of real note happened during my internship, not to me at least.
Unfortunately since I did not carry my phone with me during I did not receive Izuku's message until nearly morning.
As it would seem, one of my best friends had been attacked by none other than the dreaded Hero Killer, Stain.
(Better to hunt)
(than be hunted.)
◟(◕◡◕❀)
Mirko is largely unknown to the fanbase, so how I'm writing her is based purely on first impressions. If I've incorrectly guessed her personality too much then I'll come back and rewrite this chapter, but I feel relatively confident in my guess.
Her Quirk is also unknown to us at this point, so this is also estimation on my end.
The Hero Killer Arc was a bit of tricky thing with this OC. Because frankly if Kiyomi was there she would simply immediately teleport to Nemuri and Aizawa and bring both of them to face Stain. The Stain fight was such a crucial point for Iida, and Izuku, that I didn't feel comfortable taking that away. I thought about having Stain simply carry around Magi Dust, thus forcing Kiyomi to run there and help, but that didn't make enough sense to me. Sorry for those who wanted Kiyomi in that fight.
Here's an AU for how it would have gone in a vain hope to satisfy:
I teleported onto the scene, my eyes taking in the surrounding before I gasped.
As soon as I saw Stain, I immediately teleported to Nemuri, grabbed her then teleported her onto the scene. I did the same to Aizawa, Nezu, and Katsuki. This was all done in the course of thirty seconds.
Nemuri was the first to leap into the fray, tearing off part of her sleeve. Aizawa's Quirk immediately cancelled out Stain's hold on everyone else, so they all popped back up, ready to fight.
"Todoroki-kun please create a wall of ice behind and above us. Best not to let this fellow escape," Nezu hummed.
Shōto didn't even hesitate.
And while Stain put up an admirable fight he simply couldn't hold his breath long enough before succumbing to Nemuri's Quirk.
And that was the end of that.
No lessons learned. No acknowledgement towards Izuku. Too boring. And so Kiyomi's not involved with that arc.
Answer: My imagination.
Question: If you could have a familiar, what would it be and what would you name it? What powers would it possess, and how would it help you?
Reviews are love!