Chapter Text
The spikey-haired vigilante leader ran full speed despite carrying Yoichi on his back. Yoichi did not protest being carried. He knew he couldn’t run very fast.
The front of the mansion was a wreck, with the outer wall burned down and spikes from someone’s metapower sticking out of the dirt-covered floor. Debris and used bombs spread across the lawn. The air reeked of smoke. In the distance, people shouted, then another explosion rocked the air. The ponytailed vigilante had said he would detonate bombs further away as a distraction. Hopefully it would last long enough. Yoichi clung tighter to his rescuer’s muscular neck.
The spikey-haired man called “Leader” looked to be in his early twenties, about the same age as Yoichi himself. How impressive, for such a young man to already be in charge of a vigilante group. Hopefully he knew what he was doing, because Yoichi was desperate to escape the vault and his batshit insane brother.
The ponytailed vigilante held open the truck door, allowing his leader to place Yoichi in the back seat.
As he pulled on his seatbelt, Yoichi winced. His arm felt stiff. His neck throbbed. All of his muscles were frozen. He barely fastened the buckle.
Leader handed Yoichi a blanket.
“Thank you,” Yoichi said. “Here you go.” He tried to give the blanket back.
“No, that’s for you.” Leader tucked the blanket around Yoichi’s shoulders. Then Leader sat in the backseat next to Yoichi, using an arm around his shoulder to hold him steady.
Yoichi winced at his own stupidity. “Of course. Thank you.” What had he been thinking? The hunger must have gone to his head.
The ponytailed vigilante got behind the wheel and turned the ignition. The sound brought back part of Yoichi’s wits. “Wait! There’s a tracker on me!”
“Where?” Leader asked.
“Embedded in my wrist.” Yoichi held out his arm. “My brother—All for One—he said there was another one I didn’t know about implanted somewhere in my body.”
Leader hissed. To his companion, he said, “Call the kid to meet us.”
“We’ve got to dig out the tracker,” Yoichi insisted.
Leader frowned. “We’re not cutting into you without medical supplies. It won’t make a difference if there’s another one.”
“Do it. I don’t care if I bleed out. He’ll…be coming…” Yoichi coughed. Blood speckled the back of his hand.
Leader turned to the other vigilante. “Do we have any food? Water?”
The ponytailed vigilante gestured at the water bottle in the cup holder. “That’s all we have. I didn’t exactly pack a celebratory feast when I never expected to get this far. Hell, I didn’t think we were coming back alive from this one at all. This was supposed to be a hit, not a snatch.”
“Shhhh,” Leader growled, glancing at Yoichi.
Seeing through the coded language, Yoichi realized the vigilantes had originally planned on killing him. He wondered why they’d changed their minds. It would be foolish to ask—he’d already learned that All for One’s brother couldn’t expect much from other people, and he feared straining their limited tolerance. Yoichi wondered if they still might murder him later. It said a lot about his mental state that he barely cared. He no longer trusted self-proclaimed heroes. But even if he’d known for a fact that these two were taking him to his death, he’d still follow them rather than go back into the vault.
Footsteps came down the long mansion driveway. “Shit,” the ponytailed man said, then pressed the accelerator pedal to the floor.
A metal spike pierced the back window, headed straight for Yoichi’s eye. His battered body failed to react. He stared at his incoming death.
Leader moved faster. He threw himself on top of Yoichi and pushed them both down on the seat cushion. A spray of blood flew from Leader’s face and covered the front of Yoichi’s shirt. The bloodstained metal spike landed on the floor with a wet thud.
Yoichi screamed. The blood felt sticky on his skin. He had to do something. Desperately, he wanted to be useful to his rescuers. But his head spun and his hands refused to move.
Leader pulled out a gun and returned fire. Blood dripped down from the slash across his nose and struck Yoichi’s face with a disgusting steady patter. Leader did not react or utter a sound of pain. He fired steadily, his eyes blazing.
The car hit a bump, and Yoichi passed out.
When Yoichi opened his eyes, the truck had stopped moving. Seatbelt unfastened, he lay sprawled across the backseat. His head bumped someone’s back. Leader’s blood had dried to Yoichi’s shirt and his neck.
Yoichi’s arm throbbed. He glanced down, seeing more dried blood and a fresh bandage on his wrist. They’d removed the tracker while he’d been unconscious, a small consideration he appreciated. It probably said very bad things about his health that he hadn’t woken up during the procedure.
Leader sat sideways with his legs hanging out of the car, applying bandages over the cut on his face. The other vigilante was gone. As Yoichi sat up, Leader looked over and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Yoichi couldn’t help sounding a tad hysterical. “Your face got ripped off!”
“Eh. I’ve had worse. It won’t be my biggest scar.” Leader shrugged, sending a bloodstained bandage falling off his nose.
Yoichi leapt forward. “Let me help you put those on.” The movement made Yoichi’s head spin. He gritted his teeth and clung to consciousness.
“You should lie down,” Leader said.
“So should you,” Yoichi said dryly. Locking eyes with the other man, he took the bandages from his hands. Yoichi used the metal fasteners to wrap the bandages in place around the injury. It had mostly stopped bleeding, but he avoided putting too much pressure on the wet cut. He tugged a bandage down to avoid covering Leader’s eyes. The piercing gaze on him made Yoichi shiver and wonder if he’d done something wrong.
“Thank you,” Leader said. He sounded sincere. Maybe he just had a bad case of resting bitch face.
Yoichi’s injured wrist throbbed, protesting each movement. He clenched his jaw.
“Lie down and rest,” Leader ordered. He pulled his gun across his knees and resumed a guarding position.
The ponytailed vigilante returned, trailed by a white-haired little boy.
The child wore a bandana over one eye. He looked no older than ten or eleven. “Leader! You’re hurt! Will it scar?” The boy sounded morbidly fascinated.
“We’ll have matching facial markings,” Leader said. He spoke very flatly, with no trace of humor, but the boy laughed. Apparently that had been a joke.
“Ew. He smells.” The boy’s nose wrinkled.
“Shhh! You can’t just tell people that they smell bad!” Leader hissed.
Yoichi’s nose had long ago died, but he already knew. Hopefully no one wanted the blanket back, not after it had touched him and his weeks of grime.
“Hurry and use your power,” the ponytailed vigilante said. “If they have another tracker on him, they’ll be after us soon.”
The boy pointed. “I’m getting danger from around his collar.”
Leader reached down. Yoichi flinched. “Just removing the bug on you,” Leader said. He ripped off the fabric.
“There was only one tracker implanted under my skin? He lied.” Yoichi’s head spun. “I could have ripped my body apart looking for the other one. That bastard.” He was angry. So angry. “I want it gone! I don’t want to be wearing anything he gave me!”
“Yes, we’ll get you new and less bloody clothing back at the base,” Leader said soothingly. “Lie the hell down. You’re as red as a tomato, Skin and Bones.”
Yoichi passed out again. He barely felt gentle hands catching him and lowering him down to the cushion.
Hisashi leapt over a bleeding man in the hallway, then took the stairs two at a time. The shouting and burning scent rising off his mansion did not concern him. There hadn’t even been any casualties during the attack. Not a single minion had died defending his little brother. He would certainly change that after he figured out who to hold responsible for this catastrophe.
No bodies lay on the stairs. No one had come to defend Yoichi during his time of need. This might be because Hisashi hadn’t told anyone about the treasure he’d locked in his safest location, but he was in no mood to be charitable. Not toward his minions and not even toward himself. He never should have left the vault unguarded. He should have kept it in the more isolated location. He should have found more people to guard this place. No, he should told fewer people—he never should have let anyone know that he had a brother at all.
The vault door hung off his hinges. Even though Hisashi believed in no higher powers, he had been praying the door would hold. He forced himself to step inside.
The tiny, dark space reeked of sweat, rotten food, and waste. But not the metallic scent of blood. Hisashi had forgotten to even bring a light in his haste. He stumbled around with his arms extended like a desert traveler in search of an oasis. The room was empty. Except for a few old dried drops, he found no blood. There was no body. But that did not prove anything. Yoichi could have been taken elsewhere and… (Hisashi shied away from the word “murdered.”)
This can’t be happening, a childish voice in his mind screamed. My little brother was supposed to be safe. He wasn’t happy, but at least he was safe. Everything I did, I did to protect him.
Hisashi wanted to throw himself to the filthy floor and weep. He wanted to rip this entire mansion and everyone inside to shreds in a slow and painful manner. He wanted to chase after the intruders. But he needed to be smart about this in order to get his little brother back. Hisashi could not afford to run around with no direction like a dog chasing his own tail. The intruders had gotten away clean and broken Yoichi’s trackers. First, Hisashi needed information to find them. Hisashi took all his pain and fear and locked it away. As long as Yoichi lived (might live) there was hope. Hisashi must focus on his little brother’s survival. All else came later. With shaking hands, he removed a camera from the wall. Then he used a metapower to project the footage across the wall.
The grainy image showed Yoichi lying on his side, staring at the wall. He might have been sleeping with his eyes open. He didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. Flicking his fingers, Hisashi fast-forwarded.
The sharp bang of the door being kicked open made Hisashi jump. He watched with horror as the spikey-haired man pointed his gun at Yoichi. Unfortunately, Hisashi knew that face. He rarely bothered to remember enemies, but panic and terror had sent his mind into overdrive. His treacherous brain insisted on reminding him exactly why that particular man would want revenge on him badly enough to kill his poor, innocent brother and not care about the consequences.
Hisashi needed to fast-forward to the end and find out if his little brother still lived. If Yoichi had been murdered, Hisashi couldn’t bear to watch. The sight would break him. But his body refused to move. A broken sob emerged from his lips.
Like a miracle, the spikey-haired man lowered his gun. Then the brute grabbed Yoichi and dragged him up to his feet and out of the room.
Hisashi wept. He had not cried like this since he’d been a young child. Sinking to his knees, he sobbed onto the steel floor. Even Yoichi’s betrayal and abandonment had not made Hisashi break down like this. But then, Hisashi had been confident that his little brother lived and could be retrieved. Now he was terrified. Hisashi had no idea why the assassin had changed his mind about killing Yoichi. If he had to guess, he would assume that because Yoichi had been weaker than anticipated, the vigilantes had decided his death would not cost All for One’s forces enough. Instead, Yoichi had seemed in frail enough condition to be easily taken hostage.
But the kidnappers could easily change their minds, if another vigilante disagreed or if Yoichi proved as obnoxious a prisoner for them as he had for his big brother. The vigilantes hated All for One. They had no legal restraints. They might torture Yoichi. Rough handling could kill Yoichi accidentally in his delicate condition. Horrific images of Yoichi beaten and burned flashed across his mind. Hisashi’s terrified sobs echoed off the steel walls.
Hisashi slapped his own cheeks hard enough to stop his crying. He had to pull himself together. Where there was life, there was hope. As long as Yoichi still lived, Hisashi would always find him and protect him.
Now, Hisashi acknowledged that trying to force Yoichi to join him had been a mistake. In his desperation to prevent another brotherly betrayal, he’d spread word of his little brother supposedly joining his side too widely among friends and enemies alike. He’d turned Yoichi into a target. When Hisashi got Yoichi back, he would fake his little brother’s death. Forget his original plan. He didn’t need his little brother to join him, just stay by his side. The vault had lasted longer than originally intended. Everything had gone too far. It was time to change tactics. Hisashi would find a nice, isolated place for Yoichi to live. Somewhere with beautiful scenery, plenty of comic books, and good food. They could work on repairing their relationship. Perhaps Yoichi would be injured after his ordeal and need Hisashi to look after him. After Yoichi had suffered at the hands of both the government and the vigilantes, he might finally realize that he had nowhere left to go except back home to his big brother.
Slowly and painfully, Hisashi stood up. That vision of a perfect future hovered before him, but still too many things could go wrong. He needed to find his little brother and come up with a plan to retrieve him from his captors. As Hisashi climbed the stairs, he’d already taken out his phone, preparing to turn the massive resources of his organization to this sole purpose.
How painful, for Hisashi to have someone he loved who was not part of himself and thus could be taken away. Hisashi wished he could carry Yoichi around inside his own head forever, where his little brother could never be out of sight and they would live and die together. Sometimes he even wished that he could stop caring about his little brother so that his loss wouldn’t hurt. But without Yoichi, all of Hisashi’s careful plans for power and survival had no purpose. He’d done everything in order to protect himself and his only family member. Pain was the price of love.
Hisashi would work out his pain by punishing everyone who’d failed to protect his little brother, then those who had stolen him away. Until Hisashi found Yoichi, he could not collapse into despair. His little brother needed him.
Just hold on, little brother, Hisashi thought, wishing he could transmit his promise directly to Yoichi’s mind. I’m coming to save you. I promise.
Yoichi felt a chill. He shivered. His foot slid on the pavement, sending him falling into the spikey-haired man.
“Jeez, are you okay?” Leader spoke gruffly, but his grip on Yoichi’s arm was gentle. The bandage on his face had stayed in place. “You barely weigh anything, Skin and Bones.”
“I’ve been hunger-striking,” Yoichi said, too dizzy to have a filter.
The vigilante leader offered his arm. “I’ll support you.”
Yoichi hesitated. “I don’t want to put you to the trouble when you’re injured.” Honestly, Yoichi didn’t want anyone to touch him. But he realized as soon as he spoke that would be an unrealistic request. They needed to get off the street and out of sight quickly.
“Let me help.” The ponytailed vigilante took Yoichi’s other arm. Between the two of them, they lifted Yoichi down the dusty street toward a squat concrete building.
The boy ran ahead of them, unlocking the padlock on the fence. “No one has spotted us yet,” he muttered with the confidence of someone using his metapower.
The building looked like an abandoned factory on the outside. Vines crawled down the dusty walls. The windows were boarded up. But as soon as Leader pushed open the door, it revealed an impressive line of computers and a cork board covered in photos and notes. The large, high-ceilinged room also contained a giant brown sofa covered in tools and a wide screen TV. Wires hung down from the pipes overhead. The vigilantes carried Yoichi, lifting him over a toolbox. Pushing open a blue curtain, they placed him down on a medical bed. The wall was lined with monitors and medical equipment. A calendar hung next to the bookshelf with stacks of textbooks.
This place was giant, but it only had three inhabitants. Had there once been more people? What had happened to them? Yoichi realized that maybe Leader had been placed in charge despite his young age by default.
Yoichi squirmed on the bed, trying to get comfortable when he was bruised all over.
“Try not to pass out again,” Leader said. “We’ve gotta get you out of those bloody rags, then fill your stomach.”
“You can’t feed regular food to someone who’s been starving,” the ponytailed vigilante said. His fingers flew across his phone. “I read it online. First off, the victim needs a thorough medical exam—well, that’s not happening, the closest thing to a doctor we have is me and I’ve only read a few textbooks. Then use an IV line to feed nutrients—we don’t have one of those either. It says to feed him therapeutic foods: peanut butter paste, dry skim milk, and vitamins.” His head shot up. “That we have! Hikage, get the peanut butter and milk. I’ll find the daily vitamins.” The ponytailed vigilante left.
Leader brought in a fresh shirt and sweatpants. “You said you wanted a change of clothes? These are mine. They might be a little baggy on you.”
“Thank you,” Yoichi said. “The boy is Hikage. What’s your name?”
Leader scowled. “That idiot shouldn’t have told you Hikage’s name. We don’t use names around here. It’s dangerous. You can call me Leader, like everyone else.”
Right. Of course All for One’s brother wouldn’t be permitted to know their names. Out of a combination of annoyance and mischief, Yoichi said, “Maybe I’ll call you ‘my hero.”
Every bit of skin visible under Leader’s bandages turned bright crimson. “I-I…t-that’s…” He skuttled backward out of the medical room like a crab, closing the curtain behind him. Even the tips of his fingers had turned red.
What an unexpectedly cute reaction. Smiling, Yoichi changed into the fresh clothes. His fingers felt swollen, making it difficult for him to button up the shirt. But it was worth the effort to finally get out of the sweat-stained, bloody rags of his imprisonment. It made his escape feel real.
The ponytailed vigilante entered carrying a jar of peanut butter, milk, a glass, and pills. The man took Yoichi’s pulse, then muttered, “I wish I knew what I was doing.” He poured a glass of milk and held out a spoonful of peanut butter. “Try to eat slowly. That will help, I think. You’re not allergic to nuts, are you? Sorry, I should have asked sooner.”
“I’m not allergic.” Yoichi stared at the peanut butter. After resisting temptation for so long, he felt strange about breaking his hunger strike, even though he had no reason. He finally brought the spoon up to his mouth. The grocery story peanut butter tasted like the ambrosia of the gods. His tongue scraped around his mouth, determined to taste every last drop. He moaned as he licked the spoon.
“Here.” The ponytailed pseudo-doctor handed him the milk. “Take two of these pills.”
The milk tasted delicious, too. Yoichi did try to drink slowly, but he couldn’t resist gulping it down. Then he devoured more peanut butter. When the vigilante took away the jar, Yoichi protested, “More.”
“I’m sorry. You can’t eat too much in one sitting after you’ve been starving. It could kill you.” The ponytailed vigilante looked truly sorry.
“Did you read that in one of your historical fantasy books?” Leader poked his head around the curtain.
“It’s true!” the ponytailed vigilante protested. “Who’s the only person here who took a first aid class half a decade ago, you or me?”
Heat rushed to Yoichi’s face. His stomach twisted and gurgled. “I think…I should have eaten slower…” he mumbled as he fell backwards.
As the less-than-reassuring last words Yoichi heard, Leader shouted, “Is it bad if he passes out? Does that mean he’s going to die?”
Yoichi woke up, so he wasn’t dead. He heard voices over him. “…Worried about his…ji…”
A big hand reached down and touched his forehead.
Yoichi screamed. He lashed out with his legs, arms, and elbows, even gnashing his teeth. His left fist connected.
The ponytailed vigilante shouted, “Hey! Stop!” He reached for Yoichi.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Yoichi shrieked, clawing with all his meager strength, his heart racing and his face sweaty.
“Stop.” Leader pulled his comrade away. The edges of his bandage flopped off his face. He raised his hands. “We won’t touch you. I promise.” A bruise started to form over his left eye.
Yoichi paled to see his handiwork. He was no longer in the vault. Looking around, he saw the same makeshift hospital bay. He’d been rescued by these men, and he’d attacked them in return. What if they gave up on him? Their patience for All for One’s brother in their midst must surely be limited. “I-I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Leader said. “I was trying to take your temperature, because I was afraid you might be feverish. You were thrashing in your sleep. I should have asked first. I made a mistake, but it won’t happen again.”
Yoichi felt even more like scum. “I’m very sorry. Let me tend to your injury.” He looked around as if expecting ice to materialize. “Here.” He tried to unwind the bandage from his wrist.
Leader reached out to stop him, barely halting before touching Yoichi again. “Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself. I don’t need another bandage—my eye isn’t bleeding.”
Of course he didn’t. Yoichi felt sick to his stomach and terribly foolish. Why did he keep trying to give things away? “I’m sorry.”
The ponytailed vigilante said, “I’ll get some food. According to what I read online, you should be able to handle liquid food now.” He left.
Yoichi curled up with his knees to his chest. He had trouble meeting the vigilante leader’s eyes.
Leader said, “Here.” He held out a thermometer. “You still gotta take your temperature.”
Yoichi dared glance up. The spikey-haired man’s eyes were surprisingly gentle. It didn’t seem like Yoichi would be thrown out. “Okay,” he mumbled. Then he dared ask, “Can I have a shower?”
“Of course. I’ll get towels and fresh clothes ready for you after you eat. I should have offered sooner.” Leader flushed again. It seemed easy to make him do that. Rubbing the back of his neck, he left.
Yoichi stuck the thermometer in his mouth and left it until it beeped. He took it out. Just as he was about to check it, he heard a noise.
Hikage poked his head in the door. “The bag of bones is awake?” The boy skipped into the room. “I’m Hikage Shinomori. What’s your name?” As the child spoke, Yoichi noticed he had lines on his lip peeking out of his bandana. A tattoo? Why did the boy cover up his eye?
“I’m Yoichi Shigaraki.” Yoichi attempted a smile.
Hikage’s one visible eye widened. “It’s true? You’re related to All for One? Are you secretly super-strong?” He inspected Yoichi skeptically.
Yoichi snorted. “I’m the weak, useless brother, sorry. I don’t even have a metapower.” He winced. “At least not until recently.”
“You don’t feel dangerous,” Hikage said. “I can sense that. If you wanted to harm me, then I’d know.” He puffed out his chest. “I keep everyone safe.”
“What an impressive ability,” Yoichi said.
The ponytailed vigilante entered the room. “Don’t bother him. You shouldn’t go into his room without permission, and definitely don’t touch him. That’s important. Promise me.”
“I promise,” Hikage mumbled, slinking off.
“I wouldn’t hurt a child,” Yoichi said defensively. Then he realized that after he’d lashed out at Leader in a blind panic, he couldn’t say that for certain. He hung his head in shame.
Mildly, the ponytailed vigilante said, “He should ask for permission anyway. Your thermometer?” He took it. “Looks like you have a mild fever. I’m glad it’s not worse, because we can’t take you to a hospital. At least I can give you some lunch—you slept until noon.” He held out a bowl of beef ramen.
Yoichi took the ramen gratefully. He didn’t want to pass out again, so he talked in order to force himself to take small bites. “Why is a child living here?”
“He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.” The vigilante sighed. “It’s not ideal. We’re looking for someone else to take care of him. But it would be too dangerous to take him to an orphanage. He’s been branded, like me.” The ponytailed man pulled back his headband to reveal an M tattooed onto his forehead.
Yoichi gasped. Hate groups had attacked and forced such tattoos on metahumans who had no outward mutations, so everyone as hateful as them would know. “I’m sorry. How cruel and hateful.” He understood why an orphanage wasn’t an option. Kids who looked different didn’t fare well. His older brother had made certain they’d never ended up in the system, with good reason.
“Hikage fought the people who attacked him. The mark is all over his face. It ended up looking more like two lines, but people can still guess what it means.” The ponytailed man put his headband back on. “It’s even harder for him to hide his mark than me. We can’t even take him out in public.”
Yoichi swallowed another bite of ramen. His stomach screamed for more, but he forced himself to ask a question instead. “What’s your metapower?”
“My ability, Fa Jin, lets me build up kinetic energy. Another invisible one.”
“That’s a cool ability. It’s just the three of you here?”
“There used to be more vigilantes, but they died or quit.” The ponytailed man spoke matter-of-factly, as if death was nothing out of the ordinary.
Yoichi swallowed a big chunk of beef. He was afraid to ask, but he had to know. “How long can I stay here?”
“Do you have anywhere else to go?”
“No.”
“Then you can stay as long as our hideout exists.” The ponytailed man shrugged. “I hope that will be a long time, but I can’t promise it. All for One is hunting us relentlessly. We all plan to stay inside for as long as our supplies last. Hikage will let us know if any of All for One’s minions get close. You’re as safe here as you can be.”
“Thank you.” Yoichi wanted to cry, but he couldn’t afford to lose the water. “Leader said that you don’t use real names around here. What should I call you?”
“I hadn’t thought of an alias.” The ponytailed man scratched his neck. “You can pick one for me.”
Yoichi looked him over, taking in the sour face and caring eyes. “How about Sanzou?”
“Sanzou? Why Sanzou?” The vigilante looked perturbed.
“Because you have a stone face like a priest.” Also, because Yoichi loved the novel Journey to the West and High Priest Sanzou had been his favorite character.
Leader laughed as he entered the room. “He’s got you there, Sanzou. I like that. I guess I’ll have to start calling you that, too.”
“Leader!” The newly named Sanzou protested.
“How else can I keep your damn name secret, huh?” Leader asked innocently. “No choice at all. Sanzou. Ha.”
Yoichi turned his gaze on the vigilante leader. “Now I need a name for you, unless you want me to keep calling you ‘my hero.’” He’d said it to make the other man blush and was rewarded by Leader’s ears turning brilliantly crimson.
“Leader is fine,” the spikey-haired vigilante protested.
Sanzou said, “But Yoichi isn’t one of our members. You’re not his leader. If he gets to name me, then you should suffer, too.”
Yoichi tapped his chin. “I would swear I heard Sanzou call your name when I was sleeping. It had ‘ji’ in it, didn’t it?” Both went poker-faced, refusing to answer. “What good names have ‘ji’ in them? Hirojirou, Saiji, Niji, Yuuji, Shinjirou.” Yoichi watched the vigilante leader as he said each name, but none of them provoked a reaction. “I’ve got it! Kaiji with the kanji spelled to mean assistance, since you’re my hero.”
Kaiji turned bright red all over and stuttered. “Shower is first door to your right,” he mumbled, throwing down the fresh clothing and leaving.
“Does he not like the name?” Yoichi asked.
Sanzou laughed. “Nah, he’s just a sensitive soul. Try not to tease him too much.”
“When you say that, it only makes me want to tease him more.”
In a more serious tone, Sanzou said, “You’d be surprised how few people thank us even when we save them. He’s not used to it.”
Now it was Yoichi’s turn to feel embarrassed. “I wanted to die when you found me. A ‘thank you’ is the absolute least I can do.”
“Thank you for helping Leader bandage himself up. He’s the type who ignores his injuries unless someone makes him.” Sanzou sighed. “Can I check your bandage?”
“Of course.” Yoichi held out his wrist.
Sanzou grabbed a small pair of spectacles from the shelf and put them on. “It looks like the original injury where they implanted the tracker never fully healed. Probably because you were starving, so your body didn’t have enough energy to replenish your skin. It should heal now that you’re getting food.” He rewrapped up the bandage. “Come to me after your shower and I’ll add some antibacterial ointment. We don’t have much, so we can’t afford to let it wash off.”
“Thank you,” Yoichi said. Such meager words, but he could offer nothing more. He drained the last of his broth and licked the bowl. He knew he shouldn’t stick his face into the bowl but couldn’t help it.
“You’ll be able to eat solids soon according to my internet research,” Sanzou said in a kindly way that still embarrassed Yoichi. Then the vigilante took the empty bowl and left.
As he stripped in the bathroom, Yoichi was mildly appalled to see the rashes all over his body. His hair looked thinner and the tips of his nails had turned yellow. He turned away from his reflection and washed quickly. Just standing for a short period made him feel dizzy. But it felt good to finally be clean, wearing clean clothes.
After emerging from the shower, Yoichi went to Sanzou as ordered. Yoichi tried not to flinch as the vigilante took his wrist and applied ointment. He didn’t like the feeling of being restrained. But he knew it was necessary medical care and felt very silly for his jitters.
Sanzou handed him a bottle of pills. “These are antibiotics. Take one a day, starting with your next meal. Also, take these vitamins.” He gave another bottle.
“Thank you. I don’t have anything to give you in return.” Yoichi looked around. Then he handed the bottles back to Sanzou. “Here you go!”
Sanzou stared. “Uh…I just gave these to you.”
“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking!” Yoichi had an intense urge to give Sanzou something, anything. In gratitude for his help, obviously. But that didn’t entirely explain the itching under Yoichi’s skin, screaming, Give it away! Give it away! He desperately wanted to get rid of something, and he didn’t know what. “I must be feverish.”
Sanzou looked at him carefully. “You seem a little like someone suffering from metapower urges. What’s your power?”
“I was born without one. My brother forced a stockpiling ability on me.” Yoichi wrapped his arms around his shoulders as he remembered the horrific pain.
Sanzou jolted. “Damn, that’s ironic. Leader used to have that power, before a bad run-in with All for One. Now Leader is stuck with a very nasty ability that he can’t use without risking death.”
“I’m sorry.” Yoichi hunched more in on himself. “I didn’t mean to steal Kaiji’s power. I’m sorry.”
“No one blames you,” Sanzou said gently. “Having a metapower forced on you is a very painful thing. Maybe you’re subconsciously trying to get rid of the power because your body is rejecting it.”
“I think you’re right.” As soon as it was pointed out, Yoichi realized that he still felt the metapower crawling under his skin like it was trying to rip its way out of his body. He had to try to forget the constant sensation, or it would drive him insane.
Sanzou said, “I’ll tell Leader that you have his old power. Maybe he can help you figure out how to adjust to it. But don’t bring it up to him unless he does first. The story Leader’s last encounter with All for One is a very sad one. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”
Another person that his big brother had hurt. Yoichi felt ill. “I won’t,” he whispered, staring at his chapped hands. He took a sip of water to distract himself.
Sanzou asked, “Can you tell us anything about All for One’s operations? Even a little bit would help.”
Yoichi choked and water sprayed out his nose. Sanzou gave him a tissue. Miserably, hunching his shoulders over, Yoichi said, “I’d been away from home for a while before he…captured me. Then after that, I was locked in that place for…at least a month. I lost track of time by the end. I don’t know anything recent.” Yoichi glanced at Sanzou out of the corner of his eye, afraid he’d be kicked out for being useless.
“A month.” Sanzou looked sick. “Gods. It’s okay. I had to ask. If you don’t know anything, that’s fine.”
“I stole some information when I ran. It’s all out of date, though.” Yoichi spilled as much as he could remember while Sanzou took notes. He did not think it would be very helpful, since his older brother had already known about the leak and had time to take precautions. For good measure, he told Sanzou everything he knew about the professional hero program, too. He did not feel any lingering loyalty toward them.
Once done, Sanzou stood up. “We’re currently under strict lockdown, so there’s not much to do. How about I find us a movie to watch? What do you like?”
“A superhero movie?” Yoichi asked hopefully.
“Great idea. That would be age-appropriate for Hikage. Let me find one.” As Kaiji appeared in the doorway, Sanzou said, “Good timing. Keep him company while I find a movie.”
“But what do I say?” Kaiji asked plaintively.
“I dunno, talk about hobbies?” Sanzou’s footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Kaiji stared at Yoichi like a mouse entrapped by a snake. Eventually, he asked, “Do you like guns?”
Yoichi tried to figure out how to respond. “No, uh, I prefer knives. But your gun arm is very nice.”
“Do you think so?” Kaiji perked up. “I built it myself.” He sat down next to Yoichi on the hospital bed and held out the gun strapped to his arm. “See, it’s made of an aluminum alloy to make it more lightweight.”
Yoichi poked the gun. “Very shinny.”
Kaiji’s eyes lit up as he continued, “I keep my favorite two handguns under my pillow. I customized them, too. Do you keep knives under your pillow?”
“I never have before. My brother didn’t like me to have weapons in my room—” Yoichi stopped as he realized he shouldn’t bring up Hisashi.
Kaiji’s cheeks puffed up in indignation. “That’s wrong of him!” Kaiji removed an army knife from his belt and tucked it under Yoichi’s pillow. “Here. Now you’ll feel safer.”
Sincerely touched by this gesture of trust, Yoichi said, “That’s so sweet.” Though maybe it wasn’t a good idea if he currently attacked people when he woke up. He’d move the knife to under the mattress later.
Kaiji looked away. He was blushing again.
Standing in the hallway with his arms crossed, Sanzou groaned. “You idiot! When I said to talk about hobbies, I meant movies and books you like! Ugh, I don’t know what I expected from you. Let’s go watch a movie. I found a copy of Superman.”
“Which one?” Yoichi asked.
“There’s more than one Superman movie?” Sanzou asked.
Yoichi grinned. “I have a lot to lore share with you after we finish watching.”
OMAKE TIME!
Omake: If Third Had the Stockpiling Quirk First
Third: Uh, yeah, my quirk is called Fa Jin and it does the exact same thing as One for All but don’t question that. Leader, back me up.
Second: His quirk is not the same as the stockpiling quirk! It’s totally different even though it does the same thing!
Yoichi: I’m sending you both to face the wall for lying.
#
Omake: If Fourth Had the Stockpiling Quirk First
Hikage: I went to All for One for a better quirk and he gave me super anxiety! Now Yoichi won’t even give me my original quirk back because he gave it to his boyfriend! I’m going to run away to the forest to become a hermit.
#
Omake: Second’s Nonexistent Social Skills
Hisashi: My big brother senses are tingling, telling me that my little brother is being seduced by a smooth player.
Second: Do you like guns?