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Sometimes Barnaby regrets their hero name.
Just a little. Just a brief flicker of regret, easily dispelled by Kotetsu bumping their side asking to be pet.
It’s not that there’s anything wrong with the name, exactly, it’s just that sometimes it seems like people misinterpret it. Barnaby has tried and tried to explain it as plainly and clearly as they can, but they’ve never found the words that make a difference in those situations, if those words even exist. It’s like nothing they say or do is able to prevent this. It feels silly to let this bother them, who is Barnaby to say what is right if other people have found other meanings in their hero name. Barnaby’s not the boss of them and it’s not like it’s hurting anybody.
Unless it is?
That’s why Barnaby can’t help worrying at the issue like a dog with a bone. Because if it is hurting people, they need to work harder at people understanding.
It’s so simple to Barnaby. Saint Bernard is a dog. Loyal, full of love and compassion. Always ready to help. Solid and steadfast. Every ideal Barnaby strives for, everything they work hard at being for the world each day more than the last.
But sometimes. It feels like people are just putting Barnaby on a pedestal. Like all they hear is Saint. Like they think Barnaby is naïve at best, seeing goodness in the world. Like Barnaby is impossibly good themself and everyday people could never be that good, could never measure up, shouldn’t even bother to try.
And that is the worry. They should try, Barnaby wants them to try. Maybe the world’s not always the best place, but if everybody tries to make it even a little better in whatever way they can, it all helps. Nobody needs to be perfect or perfectly good, whatever good they put into the world still counts.
Barnaby’s power is not superhuman goodness, and they are far from a Saint.
There are times Barnaby isn’t proud of what they did. Times where Barnaby didn’t recycle, times where Barnaby saw someone struggling and didn’t help. Times Barnaby was tired and didn’t offer someone a ride, or where Barnaby took the last cookie.
As much as those choices can eat at Barnaby if allowed, Barnaby just tries their best. Some days their best is finding a lost kitten, some days their best is not crying when the grocery store is out of what they wanted.
They can’t imagine what it must be like to be an A Tier hero and have villains make you choose between two impossibly important people, make you choose between saving the bus of scared kids or the office building where dozens of people are just trying to live their lives and have no idea that they’re in danger.
Though Barnaby has barely met any of the Fairness Association members, they’ve never seen one of them flinch in a crisis. The A Tier heroes have a confidence in their choices that is intimidating.
But Barnaby’s power isn’t strong enough for the Fairness Association to give them a second glance, they hardly know who Barnaby is.
Barnaby may have stumbled into heroing when they had to recover their grandparents’ missing teaset, but they take it seriously. It’s their civic duty, like paying their taxes and voting and volunteering at the foodbank.
It’s part of being a member of the community, and it’s so much more than stopping villains. It’s helping a kid reach a library book from the top shelf and reading it to them when the words are a little hard. It’s shovelling the sidewalks of their neighbor who can’t manage on her own, and accepting the hot cocoa offered as payment so she has someone to talk to because Barnaby can tell she’s lonely. It’s finding out what people need and doing their best to help them get it.
Even villains have some sense of community, though from what Barnaby can tell it follows slightly different rules. They look out for each other, in their own way, and that’s proof of something. Maybe that their original community let them down, maybe that they’re not evil and they can change their ways.
Ultimately, naïve or not, Barnaby does believe in redemption arcs.
Barnaby believes in redemption arcs for anyone. It’s easy to believe in redemption arcs for those whose powers are weaker, everybody believes that the guy whose only power is perfect peripheral vision can return to normal life or maybe even turn to heroing one day. But Barnaby doesn’t stop there, they believe that the villain who spits acid is just as redeemable.
Not necessarily just as easy to redeem, but how easy a villain is to redeem doesn’t relate to power level. Not that Barnaby is an expert on this, they just watch and talk with a lot of people. It’s about motivations.
Sometimes the right thing for a hero is to thwart the villain in the moment, sometimes the right thing is helping the villain decide to take that step away from villainy.
It can be hard, being patient and gentle with villains. Especially doing so while firmly standing their ground. Sometimes doing that has left Barnaby hurt, but their body will heal faster than the hearts of those who turned to villainy.
And even if they’re not leaving villainy, Barnaby wants everyone to know that someone’s there for them. Not to enable further villainous acts, but for whatever they might need just as a person. That if they’re hungry, Barnaby has a granola bar right now and can make something more substantial while they eat that. That if they’re injured, Barnaby has first aid certification and yes it has been renewed. That if they’re feeling hopeless, Barnaby will listen.
With every bit of their heart, Barnaby believes that’s what the world needs from them, believes they are making a difference.
Barnaby isn’t a saint and doesn’t want to be.
They just want to help.