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“There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.”— Arthur Conan Doyle
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HPSC SECURE DATABASE | COGNITIVE MONITORING DIVISION
CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT | LEVEL 10 REQUIRED FOR CLEARANCE
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HPSC HANDLER LOG ENTRY #████ : SUBJECT #0629 [ ██████ ████ ]
Subject #0629's psychometric data during recent psychological evaluations has exhibited extreme levels of heightened cognitive processing, notably having near direct alignment to Subject #1228's [ █████ ] results during its previous behavioral resistance. Subject #0629's newly developed execution delay on assignments indicates lingering traits of a counter-productive altruistic fixation that have interfered with past operations. Condition this response out of it before it compromises itself. Another Subject #1010 [ ████ ██████ ] is an unacceptable and unneeded risk. Monitor Subject #0629 closely. Administer Corrections when necessary.
TIMESTAMP: 20XX-12-10 // 03:14:22 JST
Kaminari Denki was mediocre, in all senses of the word. Mediocre quirk. Mediocre friend. Mediocre looks. Less than mediocre grades. All that jazz. And the thing was, he was okay with that. It basically meant that he was a Jack of all Trades. Someone who isn't particularly bad at anything. But not particularly good, either.
So, yes. He was completely, absolutely, perfectly fine with it. No matter how many times those odd (clinical, calculating, murderous) thoughts came creeping in, nibbling at the edges of his forced consciousness as he went about his day.
He was Normal. And he was more than alright with that.
The girl's body was splayed at unnatural angles, her expression twisted into one of fear as her dull brown eyes stared at the rain beginning to drip from the cloudy heavens. It seemed as though the angels were crying over her time cut short. For she was but a mere child, one whose eyes had shone with innocence and a childish curiosity that had ended up leading to her imminent downfall.
0629 slinked out of the trashed alley, sheathing the bloodied knife into its place as it waited for its handler to give out the clear. Its assignment that day had been a child older than it. She had been ten, rummaging in things she shouldn't have. Alas, she'd discovered too much for the commission's liking and had met her fate in a dead-end alley. She would be discovered soon. It had made sure of it, seeing as it'd purposely hesitated to give her time to call for help, as well as revealing its presence. Which is something the tools are forbidden from doing. Even if that meant its performance had been horribly marred.
"Are a tool.. Your performance... hesitate.. very lacking...exposing yourself.. disappointed.. punishment-"
0629 had zoned out for the majority of the lecture, staring at its blurry reflection on the immaculate floors. (Its eyes were so oddly lifeless, like the girl's, it didn't know why its brain was still stuck on that. Why were its eyes that way?) A speech it had heard so many times it'd memorized it completely after the first thirty. Only returning back to reality when its punishment had been settled for the next few days, months, maybe even years. It could never tell how much time had passed during its punishments. It was sent back to training to make up for its amateur mistake and ingrain what it should and should not do and what is allowed and not.
Safe to say, Subject #0629 didn't attempt to try more of its puny acts of "justice," as its handlers had remarked.
Although looking back on it, it was quite amusing how it ended up in a 'career' where it was supposed to emphasize this long-dead justice of its. A hero? It?
How ironic.
Denki slipped into the dorms, footsteps silent against the floor yet in tandem with the echoes and creaks of every little movement, filing away the appearances of Ashido and Sero, along with other classmates as Mineta, Midoriya, and Yaoyorozu who were all watching a movie. He recognized it as "Bolt" a film about a dog who had believed he was a hero, yet was merely yet another puppet on an elaborate stage designed solely for him, unaware of the fact he was but another entertaining act for the masses. He'd studied it and many more during his extensive training to integrate into modern society before he'd entered UA. Denki went up the stairs to clean up from the many assignments he'd completed over the weekend.
Denki realized with a start, almost a second too late, that Ashido had spotted his bright blonde hair out of the corner of her peripheral vision. And just before her acid yellow eyes had shifted fully, he ducked under the stairwell, shoving his electric yellow locks into his ebony hood, waiting for one, two, three seconds before letting out an inaudible sigh of relief and continuing on his way, a weightless quiet as he sneaked up the rest of the way, locking his door with a near imperceptible click. Staring at the carpeted floor littered with intentionally placed candy wrappers and dirty clothes, a 'pikachu' plush next to his shoes and a blanket haphazardly thrown onto the mattress.
0629 spared a glance towards the dead camera in the corner roof, it knew Aizawa didn't check them so it'd deigned it safe enough to disarm, before gathering some clothes for the persona of "Kaminari Denki" to wear when he arrived the next morning before hopping out the window, it still had a few more assignments to finish until it was free the rest of the week.
0629 snuck behind the target, a middle-aged businessman who had been consorting with agencies the commission had not approved of, and so he had to be rid of. It was the last one before 0629 had to return to the dorms of UA.
The target had been rinsing his hands in the sink, whistling a hearty tune, his mind adrift. He didn't even have a second to realize his time was up as his heart stopped, a barely-there hitch in his breath as his body crumpled underneath him, his head landing with a sharp crack onto the sink. Blood haunted the scene long after it was tidied up, unbeknownst to future occupants.
0629 kneeled next to the corpse, brushing a hand over the unseeing oak-brown eyes so similar to the girl's, (Perhaps they'd been related. 0629 was not allowed access to information such as that, lest it developed an emotional attachment to the target. So it shut away its traveling thoughts, for it knew if the handlers caught whiff of these wonderings, it'd be due for a recycling.) closing them shut into an eternal rest before bringing its hands together, muttering a prayer to lead the unfortunate soul to the place people had remarked as 'heaven'.
It had heard of this foreign location from his training, a place so wonderous it seemed unreal, a place where people with goodness in their hearts went to after their time had ended. The handler had remarked that 0629 would never be able to reach such an ethereal place when the commission had no use of it anymore. 0629 had nodded, distracted as he stared at the paper placed in front of him, a stray hand brushing over the sketches of angels and rivers, flowers and trees, children playing in the long, long grass.
0629 knew it would never happen, for it was a stain on the silky white fabric of the commission, a disappointment to all.
Although, maybe the weird sting in his chest at those words was hope.
Denki slammed open the large door, the smell of baking pancakes, sizzling bacon, and the vague scent of perfume wafting towards him. His uniform had thrown on with little care for wrinkles, a large grin painted on his face as he yelled, "I'm baaaack!"
Bakugou grunted at him in greeting from where he was currently flipping bacon on the skillet, with Satou stirring the pancake batter approximately one foot and a quarter inch away.
The sound of clattering silverware and the overlapping voices of fifteen other people pausing at different periods of time to greet him washed over Denki, filling him with an odd warmth that wormed its way through his bones as he dropped his backpack on the floor of the common room. A warmth wholly unrecognizable save for the sole fact that it has happened so often around them that it had become normal.
Denki began to stroll towards the kitchen, planning to get his breakfast, and subtly inquire if Bakugou had eaten his, since Bakugou seemed to have a weird avoidance to food, and no one would explain it to him, just as a chest squished onto his back, bright pink arms wrapping around his neck as a bubbly voice squealed against his neck, "Denkss, you're heree!!"
Denki stumbled midstep, his back hunching as he 'struggled' to carry her weight on his back, an oddly genuine laugh leaving his lips as Ashido kicked her legs.
"Kaminari! Why'd you pretend to be Hawks on Saturday when you sent me that weirdass text message?" A nasally voice piped up from below, and Denki looked down to find Mineta standing right in front, someone who was suprisingly intelligent, probably the second-most intelligent after Yaoyorozu, despite what people say about him, sticking out his phone, where a text message he had never sent read,
"hawksie here! mm at the roost, troubles adrift or smt like that, c u soon hotstuff <3 ill be waiting"
0629 stared at the screen, the buzzing of a fly amplifying in its ears as it realized that 1228 was watching it. And if 1228 was watching, that surely meant the commission was, too. And if the commission was watching, that meant it would have a mission with 1228 soon. The time hadn't been specified so it could be as soon as right now to any time this week. 0629 needed to get itself under control.
Denki smiled awkwardly "Uh, Mineta..My bro. My partner in crime. Please tell me I did not accidentally send you my Hawks × Dabi roleplay..?"
Mineta's face paled significantly, his legs shook as he slowly moved away, "W-what..?"
Sweat dripped down his face, his smile wavering as he crinkled his eyes a bit more, watching as Mineta backed away, his expression one of someone who had heard things that should have never been uttered. 062- Denki had never been good at coming up with unexpected, believable, and creative lies on the spot.
Having been so distracted by the situation at hand, he had forgotten about Ashido's weight on his back, which was now shaking against him with barely held back laughter.
A wheeze left her lips.
And then came a full barrage of witchy cackles and pig-like snorts leaving her body, it was probably slightly terrifying, Denki dropped her and watched in something that resembled horrified silence with the classmates who had overheard the demon-like laughter and had decided to see what was going on.
"H-hawks- Hahh- D-dAbi..? rO-ole pLay..! Hah..ah!" Ashido wiped a stray tear from her eye, "You are such a riot, Denks, you know that?"
Denki gasped, affronted, "Nuh-uh! Mina, don't you know that Kirishima is the real riot here?" Denki turned to nudge Sero with his elbow, who had stopped to stare with a gaze akin to one who was sorely disappointed in the existences of what Denki and Ashido had become, an expression common on his features during the wee hours of the morning before he drank his coffee. "Get it? because Red Riot?" Denki snickered. Sero let out a deeply pointed sigh, instead turning towards the kitchen, casually lifting Todoroki's head and placing it onto the table away from the cereal bowl his face had been floating in while he dozed.
It was a normal morning, an ordinary one, not too good or too bad. A mediocre one. So why did his chest feel tight as he watched everyone move in rhythm, passing cups, and backpacks to each other like it was something they didn't consciously think about? Something tugged at the corner of his lips, unbeknownst to Denki as he stared at his classmates, their voices washing over him.
Maybe it was a smile. Or maybe a frown?
0629 was seated on the perfectly reflective floor, the cold seeping through the cloth draped onto its person and waited outside by the evaluation door in the vacant hallway dressed in oversized white garments that all the subjects had, although at that moment, 0629's was stained with a crimson red, small hands clutching a bloodied blade as it used the liquid to paint the floor. For an order was an order, and it was never allowed inside.
The end result had been a Correction and a crude drawing of a joyous family drenched in blood.
062- Denki's loafers screeched to a stop in front of the door, it- his hand wrapped around the metal knob, the distant noise of nineteen other people echoed in i- his ears, eventually sharpening until he could hear Aizawa's snores. A finger pressed against 0-Denki's cheek, pushing the fat around.
Denki breathed in, planting his feet into a not so familiar gait, plastering the same smirk he'd had on since the Entrance Exams. He could do this. He was "Kaminari Denki," a perfectly normal, obviously average, and certainly mediocre person. And he will be nothing other than mediocre even when this role of his is over. The door slid open and Kaminari Denki stepped into the classroom, a characteristically cheerful person treating everyone with equal enthusiasm.
For that was his role and the role of every subject the commission decided to send away.
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HPSC SECURE DATABASE || MISSION ASSIGNMENT DIVISION || BEHAVIOR ENFORCEMENT NOTICE |
CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT | LEVEL 6 REQUIRED CLEARANCE
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HPSC HANDLER LOG ENTRY #██ : SUBJECTS #1228 [ █████ ] & #0629 [ ██████ ████ ]
Subject #1228 & Subject #0629 have been successfully deployed for Mission █████. (Hereafter referred to as Protocol ████ ) Subject #1228 is a primary asset and will be operating as the temporal handler for the Behavioral Conditioning Reinforcement Correction of Subject #0629. Should the Correction be deemed a failure and Subject #1228 is unable to Successfully Correct #0629 under the Behavioral Conditioning Reinforcement Correction Program then Subject #1228 will face immediate consequences under the HPSC President's jurisdiction (see under Section ██ of HPSC Presidential Rights, Act I) for its inability to Correct Subject #0629. Field Observation Operatives will be maintaining constant surveillance over both Subject #1228 and Subject #0629.
TIMESTAMP: 20XX-6-28 // 10:45:32 JST
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"No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true." — Nathaniel Hawthorne