"What makes a hero what they are? Is it because of their quirk, or something more?" She asked. The symbol of peace was standing right before her, and with doubt clouding her mind, she hoped some light could be shed. "Being a hero is not determined by strength: it is determined by a great desire to help people, no matter who they are, and the ability to act on it, no matter the odds." He answered, keeping a mental note to wrap the conversation up before he ran out of steam. She looked at him, a final question plaguing her mind. "Then, is it possible to be one with a villainous quirk?" Silence took the two by storm, the answer already apparent. · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · This story is one I had on my mind for quite a long time, and it originally was written differently in private, but was eventually abandoned after irl events.