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The Abyss (chapter 6)
🕑 Added 2024-09-20 23:11:10 +0000 UTCThere were already changes happening at U.A. by the time they had arrived sometime around noon, Nejire still pointedly holding his hand. A vast quantity of concrete was shifting along an empty part of campus under Cementoss's control, slowly creeping upwards and solidifying into buildings that he assumed would be the new dorms.
The walking block of cement himself gave them a smile as they passed by.
Nobuto still owed him an essay for when the next term started in a few weeks, but he hadn't had the time to even start for some inexplicable reason.
Nejire turned to face him as they neared the monstrosity of glass that was the main building. "Do you want me to try and give him the eyes? Even if they never worked before…"
He tugged at his shirt collar. "I'll be fine. I always said that Aizawa's like a marshmallow deep down."
She looked at him doubtfully.
"I wouldn't want to keep you from your Work-Studies with Ryukyu either," he continued, putting on a good show of nonchalance. Internally, he was wondering whether to write his own obituary or to let Nemuri do it for shock value. "You two make for a stunning team."
"I guess we are both able to fly?" she broached.
"I more meant that you are both strikingly beautiful, but sure, that too."
Nejire gave him another radiant smile. "I'll keep that in mind." She proceeded to use her Quirk to close the distance between them, brazenly kissing him where anyone could see before she rose even higher, her skirt caught in the wind for a second before she got it under control.
Nobuto eventually headed back inside the building after a sigh. There wasn't any point delaying the inevitable.
Knocking on the door to Aizawa's office, he went inside to—
"Well, if it isn't KayaMAAAAAA!" The man's voice rang even louder with his Quirk, forcing a wince from him.
"Present Mic," he muttered back in greeting.
Nobuto honestly didn't know which annoyed him more, the man's Quirk or his outrageously long and pointed blond mohawk like he was a kirin or a unicorn, and it always wobbled distractingly.
"Go easy on him, Eraser. The kid still saved us all an even bigger headache." Present Mic shot him an obnoxious grin as he left Aizawa's office with another yell into the hallway.
Nobuto stared at his back suspiciously for the unexpected show of support.
"Close the door. I don't want her interrupting." It wasn't hard to guess who Aizawa was referring to.
"I don't think the door will stop her," he commented.
Still, he did as Aizawa asked before taking the empty seat opposite him. Except his old teacher seemed to enjoy keeping him in suspense.
"The Safety Commission hasn't yet decided yet how they will reprimand you," Aizawa finally said. "I would expect a strike on your Provisional Hero License at the very least."
He raised a brow in response. "You say that like you can't reprimand me yourself."
The man in question seemed to sigh then. It was hard to tell with how quiet it was. "We would be having an altogether different conversation if you encouraged them," Aizawa told him with quiet menace. That was much more like him. "You are still at fault for not dissuading them, but there were other considerations to make as well." A short pause followed. "And we're even now."
Leaning back, Nobuto righted his sunglasses thoughtfully. He might as well respond to the comment. "It was almost a year until any of our class had faced a situation even half as dangerous. And don't go blaming yourself either," he said before the grump could start. "The Nomu, All For One; even you have your limits."
Aizawa gave him an almost exasperated look in response. "Hizashi is often wrong, but he's not wrong about you being a wiseass."
A series of very exaggerated knocks suddenly rang out before Nemuri barged in, a small container in her hands. "I'm not too late, am I?"
They both watched as she sat down and opened the container to pick out a plump-looking rice ball. "Don't stop on my account," she told them. She then began noisily devouring the rice ball as she watched them.
"You get it from her," Aizawa finally muttered.
"He gets everything from me," Nemuri insisted. "Everything good," she amended after.
Aizawa was looking up at the ceiling now. "I should whisper a quiet prayer every night in thanks for there only being two of you."
Nemuri sniffed. "You know, it's been some time since I spoke to Joke. I think I should invite her to visit, maybe share a few drinks," she commented. "I wonder if she can hold her liquor…"
Aizawa looked back down to grace her with a profoundly annoyed stare. "Get out."
His sister pointedly finished the rest of the rice ball before she stood and sauntered out, expecting him to follow.
He stuck behind a moment instead. "You know there's Pro Hero discounts in all those fancy holiday resorts, right? You deserve to take a week or two to yourself."
Aizawa didn't seem too keen to take him up on that. "I will be visiting the parents to plead with them to trust us yet again, after we have so thoroughly failed twice now," he finished softly.
He didn't think that would be anywhere near as fun as a vacation, but who was he to judge.
Standing as well, he tried not to say anything so snarky. "Something tells me you won't have much trouble there. Call it gut instinct."
He wanted to maybe add something more when Nemuri returned with a huff, tugging him along as Aizama's tired eyes followed them outside. She soon stopped and stared up at him petulantly. "You ruined my exit, Nobuto."
He crossed his arms. "I was fine. I might have even been getting through to him."
She didn't look like she believed him. "To that old grump?" Nemuri narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're just trying to get out of owing me another favor. Which, baby brother, I intend to collect. You made a promise."
Nobuto gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Do you have that in writing?"
"Don't you start," she warned. "It will be tomorrow at nine at the…" Going through the crevices of her skimpy costume for something, she eventually pulled out a slip of paper that she then very pointedly stuffed it into his pocket. "No trying to get out of it by saying you lost it either."
He would have sighed if she didn't just roll right over any protestations on his part.
"It won't air until next week, but we'll be giving people something to cheer them up after everything that's happened," she finished.
He idly scratched at his cheek. "I'm not exactly sunshine and rainbows."
"Don't be so humble. I've seen how you get when the cameras are on," she crooned, her electric blue eyes sparkling dramatically in the hallway. "You're a natural!"
"If you say so."
"I do," she said without a hint of shame. "And expect a few guests as well. Your big sister is pulling out all the stops for you."
"For a commercial segment?" He eyed the suddenly demure smile on her lips. His suspicions were confirmed when Nemuri made her escape as soon as he reached into his pocket to pull the slip of paper out.
He could have chased her, but his sister's antics were the least of his worries right now. It might even be a happy distraction between figuring out how to do the impossible with a hard drive he had no business having and dealing with the Safety Commission's inevitable response to his own antics. Oh, and homework.
Still, he took a moment to check the address on his phone, and the answer was about what he expected. One of the racier studios in the business, maybe, but not the worst.
He was on his way outside when he paused. Turning to face the wall on his left, he saw Mirio's face staring back at him. The goofball had gotten better at it, just not good enough to fool him.
"Boo," Mirio tried.
"That would have worked maybe a few seconds ago," he snarked.
The now pouting face retreated, Mirio presumably going the long way around to spare Nobuto the sight of him naked.
He was also noticeably looking worse for wear when he returned in spite of the smile that looked like it was glued onto his baby face. "A certain someone mentioned you might need some cheering up after being called in by Eraser Head."
Coincidentally also getting Mirio's mind off things at the same time, Nobuto noticed. Nejire had always been a people person that way, even if her understanding of personal space was not nearly as developed.
"A certain someone?" he asked him, chuckling. "I told Nejire not to worry, but you know how she is."
Mirio rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know Eraser Head as well as you and her do. The stories thrown around made me wonder how he was allowed to teach sometimes. Made me appreciate Vlad King even more."
"Aizawa's an acquired taste, admittedly." A thought struck him then. "I have a new trick or three I want to test out if you're up for it," he broached. Some of his bruises still ached unpleasantly, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to.
Mirio's eyes suddenly had a fire in them. "Ohhhh, a spar? You fight as dirty as any villain, so Sir Nighteye would approve of the training."
Those two didn't make as good a pair as Nejire and Ryukyu for at least a few reasons.
"You're one to talk," Nobuto shot back. "But I guess neither of us fight fair. We should form a movement."
"Fighting crime with a smile?" Mirio offered.
"That's just All Might. Still, points for effort. Up top!"
He doubled over laughing as Mirio tried to high-five the air, almost tripping over himself.
"I hate it when you do that," Mirio complained, turning around to face the real him this time. Despite his protests, the smile started to reach his eyes now.
"Someone's got to keep your ego in check, Mr. Big 3," he told him with a clap on the back.
The two of them quickly appropriated one of the now many empty gymnasiums around campus, the floors freshly finished.
He started with some stretches, his heart beginning to thump in his chest. "You're not going to grab that costume of yours?" he asked. "I guess you always were something of an exhibitionist."
"I didn't think we'd be fighting," Mirio complained, following his example as he bobbed back and forth. Finally, he struck a pose. "It will be just like the old days."
Admittedly, whether he was naked or not, Mirio was not the best match-up for him. The baby-faced muscleman could disappear into a wall or even the ground at a whim, rendering his Quirk about as useful as a match underwater.
It's no coincidence then that he lost more often than not, even if he never took it too personally.
Mirio's Quirk wasn't that much easier to wield than his own, after all. Always having to worry about potentially falling too far into the earth to get back out did not sound particularly pleasant.
They both nodded at one another and, predictably, Mirio immediately fell into the floor before he could even reach out with his Quirk properly.
He already knew the worst thing he could do was stand still, so he was jogging haphazardly around the gymnasium as he waited. Despite that, Mirio jumped back out annoyingly close, but not close enough, so he immediately dived back under like the floor was water and he was a shark.
Their cat-and-mouse game had continued like that, Mirio disappearing and reappearing too quickly for his Quirk to take hold, while Mirio himself only had seconds to decide on his next steps when he was above ground. It turned into a contest of endurance more than anything else. Whichever of them slowed down first—
He reacted instinctively as a naked Mirio rocketed out of the ground to deck him in the jaw.
"Your movements were getting predictable," the goofball commented before he dove back into the ground.
Nobuto smiled through the pain. That was long enough.
The next time Mirio popped out of the ground, he looked confused before diving back under. And each time after that, he looked even more confused for the moments he was visible.
Understandably so, considering he was seeing another Nobuto Kayama each time he triggered what his Quirk had left, the trigger being a dive. It was something he had figured out a few weeks before the break.
It wasn't that hard to avoid assuming one didn't pull the trigger, but not using his Quirk wasn't an option for the baby-faced muscleman. It would just mean more time for his own Quirk to impress upon him.
Granted, Mirio's strength of personality did mean the trickery had a short shelf life, but he had to work with what he had.
Mirio looked like he was fighting ghosts now with big sweeping kicks as he tore through the gymnasium. He was also falling into the same trap that he himself fell into earlier, his movements becoming predictable.
While Nobuto couldn't see what Mirio saw, he could still follow a pattern, until finally…
Mirio winced as the top of his shoe slammed into the goofball's jaw. It went through him after a moment, but Mirio had to do it consciously, which meant more time for him to work his trickery. Though surprisingly, despite having some idea of how his Quirk worked, Mirio went on the offensive instead of falling into the floor again, passing through him to try and try and deliver a blow to his kidney.
Whatever his plan was, Permeation acted against him there. He never committed, which meant Nobuto only needed to fool the initial impact.
It left Mirio fighting ghosts again, and it was now or never. He didn't know exactly what it felt like when Mirio used his Quirk, but he had mentioned it once or twice.
Mirio suddenly paused, and Nobuto immediately moved to take advantage and deliver a knockout blow. It didn't work. Mirio vanished into the floor after a few awkward seconds, but not for long, rocketing right back up before he could retreat. He had overextended himself.
The knee to his jaw hurt, sending his sunglasses skidding a short distance away. He held up a hand before his Quirk could react. "You win."
Nursing his jaw, he retrieved his sunglasses before replacing them, wiping the sweat off his brow. Mirio was already making a stupid pose when he turned back around. He was going to say it, wasn't he?
"POOOOOOOOOOOOWER!"
"Put your pants back on," he told him, sighing.
Miro practically jumped into his sweatpants after a laugh, coming back around to slap him on the back. "It was a good thing you hadn't gotten it down perfectly. No way I could have continued fighting if it felt like I was always using my Quirk. Gave me the shivers just trying to separate the two in my head."
"That was the point," he muttered. "What gave it away?"
"Like I would tell you that!" The goofball was back to his normal self, his smile wide and free.
"Best of five," Nobuto insisted. That he had been close at all wasn't unhappy news. It had been a shot in the dark and then some.
Mirio fist-pumped the air. "Plus Ultra! Let's do it."
While he also lost the next one, seeing as he had been more focused on playing around with his Quirk than trying to push a short-term advantage, Nobuto's luck turned around in the third.
He also found out that Mirio made a face like a duck when he thought he was underground.
Taking the third and fourth matches with ease, he would have won it all if Mirio hadn't pulled an upset at the last minute, leaving him sprawled on his ass. Baby Face wouldn't even tell him how he'd done it, whether it was finding a flaw in the illusion or something else.
Still, Nobuto was not a sore loser by any means. That's why he didn't make him walk into a wall when they left the gymnasium. That was just him being clumsy.
They'd both been at U.A. long enough to know which vending machines served the coldest drinks, and a few minutes later were enjoying something carbonated under the shade.
He put the cold can to his temple as he watched Mirio on his side of the bench. "How are things with Sir Nighteye? You said something about his being reclusive recently."
Mirio rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "I can't say. He didn't even seem surprised at what happened to All Might. Maybe with his Quirk he had already seen it happen, but even then…"
Sir Nighteye had been All Might's sidekick once upon a time, a tall vulture of a man with a Quirk that gave him some measure of foresight. Why he and All Might had a falling out was another point of speculation with no answers forthcoming.
"He had us looking into why the supply of Trigger's suddenly skyrocketed," Mirio continued. "He suspects one of the Yakuza groups is behind it, the Shie Hassaikai."
Curious. The Yakuza were a dying breed. All Might's retirement had also only happened this morning, so what had made them so bold?
He took a swallow of the chilly soda before turning back to Mirio, wondering what a hit of Trigger would do to a Quirk like his. Not that he needed to wonder about his own Quirk; he already had trouble keeping it in check.
Shaking off the intrusive thoughts, he asked Mirio about something more innocuous. It made for more pleasant conversation as they relaxed.
Interlude: Midnight at Midnight
Nemuri was feverishly working on the final part of the script, sustaining her vision with copious amounts of coffee and sugar. Tomorrow was a spa day to make sure she looked her best, so she had to finish it all tonight.
She bit her pencil, leaving another mark as she read up and down her scribblings.
Nemuri had given the idea to herself a few days back. A big, strong hero showing a gang of very beautiful villains the error of their ways? It was genius! Her best idea in years, maybe.
Gathering her villain roster had taken a little time admittedly, but she had finally got back all their confirmations earlier today, even if some had been quicker to agree than others. Uwabami was the first to agree; they were good friends and she saw the brilliance of Nemuri’s vision immediately. Mirko and Ryukyu weren’t as sure, but she had to have a rabbit and a dragon when she already had a snake.
She just hoped this event wouldn’t almost end in disaster like the last time the four of them tried to get together like this at the old Tokyo Sky Egg.
Her fifth and final pick was purely a numbers decision. Nemuri wasn’t blind to how popular that self-righteous harlot had become in recent months, even if she didn’t like it. If she didn’t have Mt. Lady there, then her baby brother might end up only being the envy of most men and not all. That wasn’t something she would allow.
Putting the script aside for a moment, she returned to the work-in-progress that was her villain persona, Mistress Night! She had spent the better part of yesterday designing a suitably villainous costume for herself, featuring a certain aesthetic that she’d been wanting to play around with for some time, and she couldn’t wait to show it off. She might even adapt some of it to her Hero Costume with how fabulous it was.
Others could weep at her genius!
Nemuri reached for her cup, only to find it terrifyingly empty. That would not do. “Boys!”
After too long by half, Matsu finally dragged his lazy prettyboy self inside her studio delicately holding another cup. “Are you sure this is healthy, Midnight?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you calling me too old to indulge in such things?”
“No, no,” he was quick to reassure her. “It’s just… this is your fifth cup… and it’s getting late.”
“It’s only thirty minutes past the best hour of the day.” She snatched the cup from him, eyeing the cute shapes floating on the surface with an appraising eye. It was acceptable. “You four better not be slacking back there. The last one was missing at least another spoonful of sugar.”
He nodded meekly as she took a sip; mmm, almost perfect. “Better,” she told him. “We’ll just count the last one as a fluke.”
Matsu, relieved, dragged himself away as he dragged himself in, and she got back to work.
It was the climax that still felt like it was missing something, she soon decided. It didn’t have that wow factor a climax should have, because it was a climax! Mistress Night would naturally be the final villain Nobuto would have to defeat, but it all felt almost formulaic.
She hummed thoughtfully, biting her pencil again. Maybe a twist? He would suddenly find himself on the backfoot, having to rely on all his wits and good looks to succeed…
Yes!
Nemuri fiercely scribbled that down, finally turning back to the finale. After his hard-fought victory, the villains, having turned over a new leaf, would stay with their beloved forever. And he would of course have given each of them a kiss to seal the deal like a true hero would.
He wouldn’t want people to think they were unmarried spinsters, after all.
Admittedly, it was closer to a play than a commercial segment at this point, but her baby brother owed her for saving him from Mr. Grumpy despite him pretending otherwise. And even he wouldn’t be able to resist being doted on by five beautiful women.
She hummed again as she checked her phone, looking through the designs the others have sent for their costumes and making a few comments. Uwabami’s looked splendid, unsurprisingly. Very Greek mythology. She only left a single comment about the fabric.
Unfortunately, it couldn’t all be so simple. Mirko had basically sent her Hero Costume in a darker color. That was just the bare minimum! Where was the menace!
It also needed something that would catch the eye when she moved and hopped, maybe. She tiptapped a handful of comments before sending them over, hoping the fight junkie would listen.
Ryukyu’s on the other hand was certainly menacing, but it’s like she had forgotten the other side of the equation. Where was the sexiness! The passion! She left a few comments for her as well.
She barely looked over the last one. All she had to do was blow herself up and the audience would eat it up anyway. Hmph.
Taking some pictures of the finished draft as well, she sent them all over to them. Most of it would be improv, naturally, but these were all Pros. She trusted them to know how to play things up.
Nemuri opened her contacts, ringing Nobuto up again. He didn’t answer, but she promised to leave him a voice message every few hours. She would not be accepting any excuse if he didn’t show up tomorrow; she had to put her foot down sometimes!
Now, maybe a few last finishing touches on her outfit before she went to bed.
She wanted it to be perfect.
