Slayer Anderson
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Mind Games - Chapter 39
🕑 Added 2025-09-17 12:50:41 +0000 UTCAmi sighed as she sat down next to me, absently adjusting her long black hair over her shoulder. “I guess I should congratulate you, huh? You and Himiko got into UA. So... I guess you won.”
I reached up and rubbed my eyes tiredly as I stared at the people milling about in the shopping center. It was the same one Himiko had used as our first date, which felt like forever ago, but was just barely two months at this point. “I wasn't aware we were competing.”
Matsudaira Ami, one of Himiko’s friends and the one who had disliked me the most during that initial ‘fake date’ she and I had gone on. Also, likely the ringleader of the effort to follow us to ensure Himiko’s safety from the sinister mind-controller. Long black hair, classically-pretty features, and a generally pleasant personality. At least, that was the case if you weren’t dating the object of her affections and, to add insult to injury, happened to be male and thus capable of offering something that she couldn’t.
The girl who'd asked for the meeting snorted derisively and turned away. “Of course you weren't. You probably didn't even know I liked her.”
“I did,” I denied, making her turn back to me in surprise and growing offense. “Did Himiko?”
Just as it was building, that desire to lash out exhausted itself like air from an unknotted balloon. Her cheeks colored and her shoulders slumped. “I... was waiting. Himiko... she didn't seem to want to date anyone. I'm not sure if she knew that we – or at least I – knew she was turning most of her dates off on purpose... or, at least, we thought she was. Until you.”
I made a grunt of understanding, inviting her to continue. It was mildly surprising that they'd picked that up, but teenage girls were often hyper-aware of the chaotic network of relationships around them as they unconsciously jockeyed for social position. Besides, I didn't think they knew just how hard Himiko had 'turned off' some of her dates.
Particularly the one she'd mentioned leaving broken and bleeding when he'd not taken no for an answer, telling the story with all the air of a proud kitten presenting a dead mouse and expecting praise for it.
“I thought it was something with her parents. They were always pretty strict, and I knew it got to Himiko sometimes,” Ami continued absently, her eyes tracking various people around us but not really seeing them. “So I was waiting until high school to ask her out. I'd tried to talk her into my first choice school, but she was dead set on going to that weird finishing school her parents picked out. Guess I'm just lucky that I can still swap to where I really wanted to go.”
“No shade on that level of sacrifice,” I commented idly, “but going to a boarding school out in the boonies that won't give you the life skills you need for your career is a bit much when you don't even know if the other person likes you back.”
Another spike of irritation, then it mellowed to frustrated spite. “Gods... you sound like my parents. Besides, what about you dragging Himiko off to UA? Isn't that just as bad? What about what she wants?”
“She wants to be with me,” I replied bluntly, growing a bit irritated with this girl. Even if this mess wasn't her fault, there were lines I wasn't going to let people cross. “or she wouldn't have taken the entrance exam at all.”
“I'll bet,” Ami snorted, dismissing the rebuttal and looking as though she was going to get up and leave for a moment before lingering. “So you managed to carry her through the exam. What happens when she has to drop into the general classes because she can't cut it? You know she's anemic, right? How's that going to work with all the physical activity she has to do?”
Let's see... Himiko should only have a couple of days left at this point. What... two or three?
I ran through the probabilities, ghosted a metaphysical hand over the paths of fate open to Ami, and considered my potential replies. After a long moment of thought, I hummed.
“Do you know what Himiko's quirk is?” I asked the girl directly.
She blinked, frowning. “Cat's Eyes. It's technically a heteromorphic trait, but-”
I shook my head, feeling a vague sense of surprise and alarm nearby. “Those are what professional analysts call 'secondary mutations.' They're partially-recessive traits that get picked up from genetic inheritance, mostly from parents but occasionally from further back. They're essentially animal traits that entered the human genome due to heteromorphic quirks. Himiko, admittedly, has a much heavier load of them than most people...”
I held up a hand, folding out fingers as I counted under Ami's focused gaze, “Her eyes, obviously, but also her fangs and generally-sharper teeth, her flexibility, the strength-to-weight ratio of her muscles, and even her other senses... the combined effect is to essentially create a low-level secondary quirk which buffs the primary one. When I had my quirk assessed recently, they showed mine was similar... though my mutations are primarily up here-”
I tapped my forehead.
“-and pertain to the ability to handle non-standard sensory inputs, data throughput, and knowledge acquisition and development.” It was an interesting little factoid that, even if I'd had my body 'refreshed' by The Company, my brain was absolutely not human standard, even measured against this world's abnormal norms. Thankfully, it wasn't so weird that it rang alarm bells, but there were a lot of non-standard neurological and neurochemical developments.
“I... read something about that,” Ami muttered, “a journal article for science class or something. What's her quirk then? And why should I believe you?”
There was a quiet panic off just out of sight, but I ignored it.
I rolled my eyes. “Her real quirk is 'Transformation.' It allows her to consume human blood and use it to fuel a transformation into that person's physical appearance. Her parents were strict with her because they thought it was abnormal and shameful to have their daughter consuming blood. The problem is that her systems actually require blood to function at higher levels of exertion. If she's not able to take in blood of some type – human or animal – then she'll develop symptoms not unlike anemia.”
A slow, dawning horror shown through Ami's gaze, tears slowly welling up at the corners of her eyes.
I pulled out a small towelette and handed it to her, looking away as she dabbed at her eyes.
“Why didn't she tell us?” Ami asked, her voice rough.
“You and your friends provided Himiko with a shield of normalcy in her day-to-day life,” I explained bluntly. “Explaining that she wasn't normal would put that in jeopardy. To Himiko, it's better that you accepted a lie than rejected the truth.”
Ami breathed in harshly, “So she thinks that little of us.”
Yes, she does. I'm pretty sure she hates you, in fact. Really and truly hates each and every part of you.
“Your presence in her life is a comfort,” I stated, also telling the truth of Himiko's complex and fractal emotional landscape. “If your priority as Himiko's friend was to make her feel accepted and part of a group – a normal girl – then you succeeded completely and utterly.”
Ami sniffled a bit more, blowing her nose. “You're a real jerk, you know? Saying something like that right after you tell me I don't even know one of my best friends. I'm supposed to be mad at you for stealing her away from me.”
I hummed. “Tell me, do you know why you're here, Matsudaira-san?”
She turned to look at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I... was kind of hoping to yell at you a little? Make myself feel better, I guess? No offense.”
“Some taken,” I replied with the slightest bite to my response, making her wince. “But, no. You're here because Himiko has been bragging about me to your friend group, am I correct?”
She nodded, clearly not understanding where I was going with this.
“Himiko baited you into confronting me because, coming from a very traditional household, she wants me to have an outlet for any frustration I have with her.” The very beginnings of shock flashed over her features. “She wants me to, essentially, seduce you so that – were I compelled by my baser instincts to cheat on her – I would do so with someone she knows and trusts instead of a stranger who might try to put an exclusive claim on me.”
Even if the word 'trust' here is being applied in a way you aren't likely familiar with.
After all, one could 'trust' in the heft and sharpness of a blade or the functionality of a firearm just as much as one could trust in a person or organization. But where the latter example involved allowing the individual or group to work in their own way in their own manner... trusting a knife didn't turn it into a hammer. Knives cut, stabbed, and carved, that was all they did.
Ami had been Himiko's friend for years. At this stage, my girlfriend knew each and every button she needed to push to get the response she wanted.
Matsudaira Ami would forever be Matsudaira Ami, in other words.
“But... Himiko knows I like girls,” Ami muttered, confusion and disgruntlement at the idea of pairing us together obvious on her face.
“The enticement to accept would be me offering liaisons with Himiko,” I stated, trying not to sigh at how willfully oblivious the girl was being.
Ami's face turned a fiery red. “I-bwuh, bu-bu-but... ya-you can't be serious!”
I snorted as her volume spiked, drawing the gazes of curious and disapproving passersby as the girl clapped her hands over her mouth.
“You've got to be joking!” Ami hissed, leaning over to me. “She would never-”
I pinned her with a sharp gaze, quieting her. Holding up a single finger, I stood and walked around the corner of the record shop into the small service alleyway and taking the wide-eyed blond by the arm before dragging her out to the bench and plopping her down like a sack of potatoes. Himiko's eyes flicked between my dully gaze and Ami's shocked one, the look of a caged animal on my girlfriend's face.
“I am not angry,” I started, watching her muscles relax at that. “I am, however, disappointed that you didn't think to discuss this matter with me first.”
Himiko's head dipped. “S-sorry, Dear.”
Ami's eyebrows rose at the endearment.
Still standing over her, I nodded. “Apology accepted, but your punishment is going to be having a talk with Ami and giving her the explanation you've been avoiding. You saw fit to make decisions about her life without her input, even if they were well-intentioned, so you obviously need to understand that isn't a suitable strategy going forwards for this kind of situation.”
The emphasis on the final few words was subtle, but more than enough for Himiko to pick up on and wince. It was one thing, after all, to try to set your boyfriend up for a booty call with a friend, but that wasn't what Himiko was doing in this instance, regardless of what I'd told Ami. Or, rather, that wasn't all Himiko had hoped to accomplish.
I'd run the terms of my new Contract by her, after all.
And Ami wasn't without her charms.
Himiko's shoulders drooped and she began pushing her fingers together anxiously. “Y-yes, Dear.”
I grunted, then turned to Ami and bowed slightly. “I'm sorry to impose on you, but please give her a chance to explain herself? She's been brought up in such a way that the idea of a mistress is not uncommon. This was simply the easiest way to accommodate both your desires and her own.”
“I, um...” Ami took a deep breath and nodded. “I'll try.”
I nodded at them both. “Alright. I'll be in the music store if you need me.”
And with that, I walked away from that mess and into the welcoming arms of another round of record shopping. Admittedly, Jiro didn't seem all that impressed by the fact that I totally ignored her expectant stare as I walked through the doors, moved past her without acknowledgment, and made a bee-line for the ultra-classic rock.
Sadly, my peace only lasted a few minutes.
“You know... I really thought you were two-timing that girl for a minute.”
I looked over to the punk-rock teen, her asymmetrical haircut oddly balanced by the tilt in her head as she watched me. The apron wrapped around her, just like last time, marked her as an employee of the store. “Is it the owner's policy to investigate relationship drama in customer's private lives?”
Her face colored and she looked away. “I'm trying to apologize, you ass. I listened in on your conversation with her because I thought you were cheating on your girlfriend and was going to tell her about it because that kind of shit pisses me off.”
I hummed in acknowledgment. “Fair. It pisses me off, too. For what it's worth, at least.”
She was quiet for a few moments, long enough to allow the silence to become awkward. “I, uh... didn't expect... all that, though.”
I chuckled, the reaction only increasing her blush. “Given that you were listening in on a private conversation... and what I can guess your quirk is, I don't think you have grounds to complain about what you overheard.”
“I-I wasn't complaining,” Kyoka muttered, her posture signaling... I narrowed my gaze slightly. “I just... your girlfriend actually wanted to hook you up with her friend? Her friend who's a lesbian, from what I heard?”
“That's pretty much the situation,” I nodded.
Kyoka's mouth opened and closed silently. “How does that... work?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, when a man likes a woman-”
An earphone jack lanced out at my shoulder and jabbed me. “Not that. Ass.”
I chuckled again, enjoying the blush on her face. “Sexual orientation is a lot more fluid than you probably believe.”
She gave me a wary and distasteful look. “Is this going to go into one of those macho rants about how she's never had a 'real man' and would 'change her mind' once she got into it? Cause I can ban you from the store.”
“No, nothing like that.” I shook my head and looked over the album in my hands before placing it back where it had been. “You're talking about converting someone from one sexual orientation to another, and that doesn't actually work. At least, not without extremely morally-dubious brainwashing quirks.”
Or a binding, but that's right out as an option.
“Okay...” Kyoka nodded slowly. “So, what are you talking about?”
“Expansion of a person's sexuality, rather than conversion,” I replied, scanning another album for a list of songs and putting it into the small stack I had going. “You're familiar with the concept of a 'strike zone,' right?”
Kyoka blushed slightly, but nodded. “People you find attractive, right?”
I hummed in agreement. “Those are the people you know you can find attractive. Your 'type,' if you will. That doesn't mean you can't find someone outside of that grouping attractive, just that you're not automatically inclined to do so based on your preconceptions.”
“And you think you could widen her 'strike zone' to include guys?” Kyoka asked, snarky disbelief coating her tone and smirk.
I raised an eyebrow at her and shifted.
My posture straightened, the placement of my feet changed... then the way I held myself, the inclination of my head, the tiny muscles around my eyes, the focus of my gaze. I added a hint of aggression, just a tiny bit of dangerous spice to the entire thing, like I was contemplating pinning her to a wall but had yet to make the choice. Then, as Kyoka was still trying to understand what was going on, I took a single step into the bubble of her personal space and lowered my voice an octave or two, the thrum of a deep bass in the shop's music harmonizing with my changed voice.
“What do you think?” I asked in a low rumble, the cadence of the words matching with the rock-metal atmospheric piece playing softly in the background.
I could feel her heartbeat speed up as her eyes widened and a shiver shot up her spine. “Wh-wha-what-ah...”
Then I rolled my neck and relaxed, sliding back into my normal, casual stance with a single shrug. A hint of a grin caught my lips as I went back to studying the record jacket I'd picked up, a trace of smug satisfaction creeping into my voice, “Yep, still got it.”
“Holy-shit-what-the-fuck-” Kyoka muttered as she shook herself, her eyes flashing around the lightly-populated store to check if anyone had seen that. Her father, at the register, gave her a nod and a wave, which she returned... if a tad shakily.
“What was that?” Kyoka asked, huffing slightly and... panting?
Damn, I am good.
“Me entering your strike zone?” I asked in my characteristic dull monotone.
“Y-you c-can't just...” The punk girl began. “That's just manipulation!”
“Yep,” I nodded, taking her off-balance again. “Hence why I was upfront with Ami about what Himiko wanted to do-”
I glanced through the front windows where I could see her and Ami hugging it out.
“-because expanding your strike zone – your type – is something that should only be done voluntarily.” Kyoka cocked her head, trying to understand me and put me in one of those little boxes people had for their friends, acquaintances, enemies, and weirdos they should avoid on the trains. “Being good at manipulating people makes that caveat all the more important.”
I paused, hesitating. “Unless you're a villain, of course. Then it's open season.”
Kyoka opened her mouth to reply, then shook it off again. “You are like... the weirdest dude I've ever met, you know that?”
Considering the usual state of people in general...
“I'll take that as a compliment,” I shrugged.
The punk girl rolled her eyes, chancing to look out the window where she could see a visibly-disappointed Himiko nodding despondently. Ami, on the other hand, looked... tempted, but resolute, was the best way I could put it.
“Looks like you aren't getting your threesome,” Jiro hummed, and I wondered if it was just her ability to read basic body language or if her hearing was good enough that she could pick up traces of the conversation at this distance.
“It's not about the sex,” I sighed and shook my head, stacking my finds together and tallying them up in my mind before weighing the possibility of grabbing a few more. I knew they had Meat Loaf somewhere around here... “It's about finding a compatible relationship partner who will put up with both Himiko's weirdness and my own.”
“I've heard guys who think they're smooth say things like that before,” Kyoka muttered, looking me up and down. “So you're just going to let that chick go because she said she didn't want to be dicknotized into liking guys?”
“That's very much not what I said,” I replied, moving to another bin and deciding to find those records after all. “But, yes, I'm 'letting her go.' I'm acknowledging her refusal of an offer of a potential relationship and respecting her right to self-determine. It makes me concerned that this seems to be an alien concept to you.”
Kyoka flushed and snorted, then shook her head. “I've just never met a guy who doesn't go for it when he's obviously got enough game to handle shooting his shot.”
I hummed in response, not feeling the need to condemn what were probably stupid kids trying to get laid. They'd learn, or they wouldn't. Sex wasn't everything.
“So you're not pissed at your girl?” Kyoka asked, picking up the conversational ball once again. “That she tried to manipulate you?”
“Heh... no, I'm not angry at her,” I snorted slightly. “I'm just a little disappointed. If she really wants to lead me around by the nose, she'll have to try harder than that.”
Kyoka stared at me for a long moment. “You're talking about this like it's some type of weird game you two play.”
“More or less,” I confirmed with a shrug. “We each try to arrange things so that the other person gets what they want. It's like... setting up traps to make each other happy. Something like that, at least. I'm winning, of course.”
Kyoka snorted unexpectedly, grinning at my smugness. “Of course, right... you're an expert at manipulating people and not just some hot shit dude out to get a second girlfriend.”
“I can see that you don't believe me,” I noted absently, finding the last album I wanted and stacking everything together.
She shrugged. “I think you've got game, no shade. But the way you're blowing yourself up? Yeah, right...”
I hummed, nodding. “Alright... here's a hypothetical, then. My girlfriend's bestie who has the hots for her calls me up and arranges a meeting. I choose somewhere public so that we have plenty of witnesses if things go south and one of us gets upset at the other. There's this shopping center where I've taken my girlfriend for a few dates. That sounds like a great place, right?”
Kyoka blinked, nodding slowly. “Okay... so you've got half a brain.”
“Now, I know what my girlfriend is setting up, so I know she's going to be there to watch how things go,” I continued as if she hadn't spoken. “I can tell at a glance that she really doesn't like me and doesn't care for the idea of a relationship with me, even if she gets to be close to my girlfriend in exchange. And, sure, I think I can 'fix that,' if I really tried, but beyond the ethics of the situation, it'd be a lot of work to even get her civil with me on a regular basis. Too much of an uphill battle, so no thanks.”
“Maybe more than half a brain, if I'm charitable,” Kyoka shrugged with a smirk.
“But here's the thing...” I stated, cutting a glance at her. “Why would I guide her to a bench in front of a store that I've taken my girlfriend into multiple times? Especially with someone who has an enhanced hearing quirk?”
Her sly expression evaporated, replaced by confusion.
“I mean, it's almost like I wanted to be overheard and confronted about my intentions,” I chuckled with another shrug. “Since my girlfriend has this little obsession of hers with finding someone she can trust to take care of stress when she's not around... well, there's this cute girl working at my favorite music store. She's nice enough, once you get past the snark, but explaining this whole mess... man, that'd be awkward. If only there was some way to let her in on what's going down without making myself look completely insane and a perv.”
Kyoka blinked rapidly, opening and closing her mouth rapidly like a fish out of water.
Then I tucked my set of albums under my arms and walked away... for about five steps before Kyoka caught up to me, tried to speak again, and had nothing come out again.
“Ah, my favorite customer,” Jiro Kyotoku laughed, nodding at his daughter. “I hope Kyoka helped you find... Kyoka? You okay?”
Jiro sputtered helplessly, her brain still stalled out.
“I told her I liked Marvin Lee Aday more than Prince,” I interjected with a smirk. “I think she's trying to figure out where she can hide my body.”
Kyotoku chuckled, the age lines on his face from a life of rock and roll and moderate drug use, disappearing with his laughter.
“Prince was an icon!” Kyoka hissed out, her earlier revelation forgotten. “Meat Loaf was a great singer, yeah, but there's no comparison!”
“Too busy enjoying myself to worry about being wrong,” I riposted with a grin as Kyotoku rang things up, then paused.
He snapped his fingers and reached behind the counter. “Oh, right! These finally came in. Now, they were part of a limited run, so they're pricey just like I warned you...”
I grinned as I looked over the albums and CDs. “Those too, please. I think Himiko's going to love them.”
Kyoka paused for a moment, staring at me before looking across the store at the window where the two girls were saying goodbye to each other. “You know... if you'd told me that Ms. Perky-Cute over there was into any sort of metal before today, I'd have laughed at you.”
“I recall you did laugh at me when I asked you to place the order,” I replied.
“But,” Kyoka stated firmly, ignoring my riposte, “after today, I think I'll buy it.”
I snorted, thanked Kyotoku and made my way towards the door.
“Wait,” Kyoka called, stepping outside with me, then grimacing. “...were you serious? About...”
She jerked her head towards Himiko and Ami.
“As serious as you want it to be,” I nodded at her. “If you'd prefer this all to be a joke, you can laugh it off now and forget about it. But be prepared for Himiko to make a bid for you to get involved.”
“Really?” She asked, her dark eyes flicking towards the somewhat subdued blond girl.
“Really,” I nodded. “It's too soon to say if anything between us would work, but Himiko knows I think you're cute and that's enough justification for her to at least try, now that I've turned Ami down.”
I paused as Kyoka blushed.
“Or Ami turned me down, however it works,” I shrugged.
“Hi-to-shi!” Himiko called, latching onto my arm and pouting at me. “That was mean! Meanie! Uncute meanie!”
“I thought he did a pretty good job, myself,” Ami stated, then reached over and flicked Himiko's forehead. “Don't whine about taking your medicine, Himiko-chan.”
“Owie,” the blond muttered, her shoulders drooping as she leaned against me.
Kyoka, meanwhile, was biting her bottom lip as she watched the byplay.
“Anyway, I've got to go,” Ami sighed, looking between myself and her friend. “Remember, we're having that party at my house on Sunday. You're going to be there, Himiko. No backing out.”
The blond released another whine as I chuckled.
When we got back Home, I'd explain things to her and she would understand. Those girls probably wouldn't be long-lasting friendships given they weren't all going to the same school, but Himiko was going to become a professional hero. Even the mediocre ones had pretty thorough biographies available and their childhood friends were often interviewed as a result. Given that I expected Himiko to make quite the splash at the sport's festival, as far as a bare minimum performance... not to mention what would happen once word really got out about Endeavor's interns...
Well, the uncomfortable sacrifice of a few personal details right now would turn her into a sympathetic and tragic figure in her friends' minds. That was as opposed to allowing her to keep her secrets and turning those friendships into bitter memories of people who'd been lied to and tricked by someone they considered a friend.
I flipped out a business card and passed it to Ami, who took it reflexively. “Call me if she's a no-show, I'll drag her there myself.”
Ami snorted at the pathetic noise Himiko made and walked off, but at least she put the card in her pocket and didn't trash it.
“I want ice cream,” Himiko demanded. “With sprinkles. And gummies. And cherries and strawberries so that everything turns sweet and red.”
“Yes, honey,” I replied obediently. “I even got you a gift in the music store.”
As expected, the girl perked right back up. “Ohhh! Present! I want it! Is it cute!?”
“Ah...” Kyoka interjected. We both turned to her and she blushed under the attention. “S-sorry? Th-that things didn't work out, I mean?”
Himiko stared at the girl for a second too long, then smiled. “Ooooh! She's a little cute... hmm, I like her! Hitoshi gives the best presents!”
I sighed and looked heavenward for aid, nothing of the like materializing.
“Gah!” Kyoka sputtered, taking a step back. “He bought you music! Music! That's the gift!”
Himiko blinked, cocking her head cluelessly. “Hmm... that's what I meant, though? I was just saying I liked your style. What did you think I meant?”
Before mortification could properly set in, I looked Kyoka in the eye and shook my head definitively. There was no winning this confrontation for her. It was best to make a tactical retreat and disengage to form a new strategy.
“I need to get back to work!” Kyoka announced, turning and power-walking back inside her parents' store.
“So she's the one?” Himiko asked excitedly, looking at the door Kyoka just entered.
“If she wants to be, yes,” I nodded, because there was something... off about that girl. Something interesting. Especially since she'd gotten past the point where most sane people would turn and run – usually screaming – when confronted with that level of weirdness. I was a long way off making the judgment about offering her a binding, like I had Himiko, but...
Her body language hadn't indicated the usual revulsion most people would display at being so profoundly manipulated without their knowledge.
If anything, she'd seemed...
I shook the thought off and wrapped an arm around Himiko, guiding her outside Kyoka's range. “Because I'm not going to try and trick anyone into accepting a relationship with me. I'm going to be upfront about it, just like I was with you.”
Himiko drooped a bit and pouted as we walked towards the ice cream parlor. “But... it would have fixed everything! Ami gets a boyfriend so people who don't like girls dating girls aren't mean to her and she can be with me so that she's happy too! And Hitoshi gets another cute girl!”
I grunted. “We're going to need to have a long discussion about how integral to their person-hood many people see their sexuality, Himiko. It is not acceptable to modify that trait without their informed consent.”
“People are dumb,” Himiko pouted bitterly. “They're all tricking each other anyway. Pretending to be what they're not. Liking girls, liking boys, liking both, not liking anyone... it's all the same thing. You just pick one that will let you fit in where you are. Like cute outfits! Oooh! I saw a really cute thing Hitoshi should buy me!”
I allowed Himiko to change the topic for the moment, as we ordered ice cream. The tables were too packed to have a private conversation as we had while walking in the busy crowd surrounded by ambient noise. Someone could easily overhear us now.
Regardless, I'd need to explain to my girlfriend once again that personality traits weren't like clothing to most people.
It was something I knew she understood intellectually, but looked down on most of society for as an irrational refusal to conform to social situations.
Honestly, I'd settle for her just not trying to trick any more of her friends into taking a binding.
Before the conversation could continue, though, I heard a chime from my phone and glanced down at it before double-taking in surprise.
‘Hey, dude! Just got an internship offer! With Nighteye! So freakin Manly! Woo!’
~~~
Well, congrats. This chapter ran long, but was easy for me to write. Hitoshi/Himiko shenanigans usually are, and this is a chapter full of them.
Also, Himiko being lowkey horrifying again, which is fun.
Oh... results from the top-tier poll. So, counting the vote on Subscribe Star, I've got a tie between Entrepreneurial Spirit and The Hand We're Dealt. Three votes each. So one of them is getting an extra-long chapter and the other will get a normal one.
I'll have something, probably one of those, out over the weekend.
Hmm... anything else? Nope. Enjoy your Wednesday? Or at least try to. Half-way to Friday!
Comments
Xana
I love the mind games
Taye
This chapter was scary. It also got me thinking that a future kid of Hitoshi and Himiko’s would have an…interesting life. Future fic idea, maybe?
Slayer Anderson
I’m done revising for now, but when it comes time to post publicly, I’ll revisit the subject.
Einar Strandberg
We already know that Nighteye wants Kirishima to be All Might's heir.
Nick
"‘Hey, dude! Just got an internship offer! With Nighteye! So freakin Manly! Woo!’" Kirishima got an internship with the enigmatic and quiet Nighteye? I gotta see how that happened. I can't wait for the next chapter.
Tony Martin
I see the paragraph you added reintroducing Ami. Its good to have but I think you over did it a bit. It might be worth spreading the description over a few paragraphs. This is just a quick 5 minute chop but I hope it shows you what I mean. ** Ami sighed as she sat down next to me, absently adjusting her long black hair over her shoulder. “I guess I should congratulate you, huh? You and Himiko got into UA. So... I guess you won.” I reached up and rubbed my eyes tiredly as I stared at the people milling about in the shopping center. It was the same one Himiko had used as our first date, which felt like forever ago, but was just barely two months at this point. “I wasn't aware we were competing.” Matsudaira Ami, one of Himiko’s friends and the one who had disliked me the most during that initial ‘fake date’ she and I had gone on. Also, likely the ringleader of the effort to follow us to ensure Himiko’s safety from the sinister mind-controller. The girl who'd asked for the meeting snorted derisively and turned away. “Of course you weren't. You probably didn't even know I liked her.” “I did,” I denied, making her turn back to me in surprise and growing offense. “Did Himiko?”Just as it was building, that desire to lash out exhausted itself like air from an unknotted balloon. She maintained her classically-pretty appearance even as her cheeks colored and her shoulders slumped. “I... was waiting. Himiko... she didn't seem to want to date anyone. I'm not sure if she knew that we – or at least I – knew she was turning most of her dates off on purpose... or, at least, we thought she was. Until you.” I made a grunt of understanding, inviting her to continue. Ami wanted to stay angry at me, but that ran counter to her generally pleasant personality. At least, that was the case if you weren’t dating the object of her affections and, to add insult to injury, happened to be male and thus capable of offering something that she couldn’t. It was mildly surprising that they'd picked that up, but teenage girls were often hyper-aware of the chaotic network of relationships around them as they unconsciously jockeyed for social position. **
