Episode 1

"I remember the day I decided I did not want to be a superhero. I was probably five or six. I was working with my Grandmother. She'd come to the Citadel to help me with my piano lessons. At the time I didn't realize that the piano lessons were mostly a way for me to learn to control my strength. My powers began to manifest very early. My family had to teach me to control myself before it would be safe for me to leave the Citadel. At first they had me working, playing, whichever, with blocks and balls. They started out with steel toys so that I was less likely to crush them accidentally. Eventually we moved to wood and hard plastic. That was when Grandma introduced me to the piano. I really had to concentrate on being gentle so I didn't destroy the instrument every time I struck a key."

"I must have wrecked that little kiddie keyboard a million times. But Grandma just kept repairing it. That's her power. And then I'd try again. She'd play for me to show me what she wanted and then talk me through it … 'Gentle now. Just tickle the keys, Otie' … Don't laugh. I was five. Everyone had a silly name at five. Anyway, after watching her, I'd try so hard to tickle the keys. Eventually I learned."

"But that day our lesson was interrupted by an argument coming from the balcony. I guess my Dad and Grandpa had been in a meeting in the conference room. When they came out they were still yelling. There was third person in the argument, a lady who I didn't recognize. I guess she was probably from some charity or something."

"I don't care how many lives it might save, we cannot afford to work for free!" Dad said. I could tell he was really frustrated. He always steps heavier when he is frustrated and I could hear the balcony echo with each footstomp.

"We're only talking about one or two days a month," the lady argued. I could tell they had been through this before. "Other hero agencies have agreed. It is a way that people who need help, but can't afford the cost can get it. Think of the children!"

"That's not how superheroes work, lady," grandpa added. He didn't sound as mad as Dad, but he wasn't happy. They must have gone into the elevator because I didn't hear any more.

"Superheroes don't save kids?" I asked Grandma when they were out of earshot.

"Not anymore I guess, not without getting paid." She sounded sad as she looked in the direction they had disappeared. I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

"That's when I decided I didn't want to be a superhero. I wanted to help people. And scientists and engineers help people. They build things that help people. That's why I want to go to Melvin Turnbuckle School for Engineering and Mechanical Professions, not Super High." As I finished my story I watched the members of the Super High admissions committee lined up across the table stare at me in bafflement.

"They still made me go."

"So how did you end up here?" I was jolted out of my reminiscing by the girl's question. I had momentarily forgotten that I was telling my story to a real person. I focused on her, once again taking in her pretty face, long blond hair, golden horns, and wide blue eyes. She was dressed for comfort, much like most of the people on the plane, myself included. New York City to Tokyo was a long flight, though she had boarded at Los Angles.

To be fair, if I am going to describe other people in this tale, I should introduce and describe myself. I am Otis Armstrong. Yes, one of those Armstrongs. The youngest to be precise. But unlike the rest of my family, I don't look like an idealized Greek god. Instead I am short, skinny, and a look like a pathetic wimp, if my older brother is to be believed. My hair is mousy brown and my eyes a dull grey. I am the stereotypical 15-year-old geek. I'd rather read or build robots than exercise, and my body reflects this.

The only things that gives me any measure of self-confidence are the facts that I am smarter than the average bear and I am the strongest person on the planet. OK ... given very particular circumstances, I have the potential to be the strongest person on the planet. Most of the time I am still strong enough to cause my older brother serious frustration and make my father certain I should join the family business.

"I tricked my family. By going on this exchange program, I avoid Super High for one more year. And as I am working towards my license I don't lose anything." I couldn't read the expression on her face. Did she think I was weird for not wanting to go the top hero school in the US? Did she think I was clever for avoiding my family's plan for me? Did she think I talked too much? I couldn't tell.

"Since my Granddad is Japanese, he really wanted me to go back to his home country. I thought it might be cool, and I've never really spent much time away from the ranch so … here I am." She smiled at me.

"That explains the blond having the name Tsunotori," I nodded.

"Yup, I'm sansei but my mom and grand mom are both blonds. I think the fact that the normally recessive traits of blond hair and blue eyes came out in me is part of my Quirk."

"You study genetics?" I asked. She didn't seem the scientific type.

"Not really, but ranch girls know about breeding."

"What does your family breed on your ranch?"

"Some cattle and sheep, but mostly horses. That's part of why they called me Pony in school. Though with my looks and real name, Peony, it was pretty much a given I would end up Pony."

"Peony, like the flower?"

"Yeah! Most people don't get that. My mom and her mom were also named after flowers, so it is sort of a family tradition."

"Cool. I was named after an elevator."

"What!"

"Well," I smiled. "Actually, my great uncle or some such was named Otis and … I don't know … somehow, I ended up with it. I usually tell people I was conceived in an elevator and …"

She started laughing. It was an oddly horsey laugh. She didn't look like a horse in her face, especially with the two horns, but she did have hooves for feet and a short tail. I thought she was kind of cute.

"Oh!" I remembered, "Speaking of names. I need to ask you a favor."

"Hmm?"

"I really don't want people in Japan to know I'm an Armstrong. Even in Asia that's a famous name and I don't want people connecting me to my Dad. So, I made arrangements with the UA administrators to go by my Grandma's maiden name, Hightower. Otis Hightower, pleased to meet you." I offered her my hand. She shook it once.

"Fair enough. I'll keep your secret."

"Thanks." Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

When the plane landed, Pony and I were met by three adults and two teens. The most noticeable of the adults was a middle aged Japanese man with a freakish smile. Upon closer inspection, I saw he had no lips so his teeth were fully exposed. It was a disturbing sight. He looked pretty normal otherwise. The other adults looked normal, a middle-aged woman and a slightly younger man with long hair. Both dressed more formally that I was used to. Each was standing next to one of the two teens. Both were girls, one with long blue hair and one, slightly younger, with short black hair and long dangling earrings. The lipless man held a sign that said, "UA Exchange Program" in English.

"Think they're here for us?" Pony asked nervously.

"Looks like," I replied, equally nervous. I never liked meeting new people and was beginning to doubt my decision to throw myself into a completely new country.

As we stared hesitantly at the group, standing still as the crowd flowed around us, the man with the sign stepped forward and spoke. "Tsunotori-san? Hightower-san?"

"Hai!" we both relied, slipping into Japanese. Pony started to bow and I quickly followed suit.

"Hajimemashite, I am Ectoplasm, one of the teachers at UA High School." He continued in part English, part Japanese.

"Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu!" Pony bowed again. I echoed her.

"Do you both speak Japanese?" he asked in the language. It had been part of the requirements for the exchange program as all classes at UA are taught in Nihongo. I had been studying the language for a few years. Many of my robotics friends were from Japan and I was a fan of manga and anime. I suspected Pony had learned it at home.

We both responded positively and the others made sounds of relief. From then on almost all conversation was in Japanese.

"As planned we have arranged homestays for the two of you. This is Hado-san and her daughter Nejire-chan. Pony-chan, you will stay with them." The three ladies bowed to each other.

"Oti-kun, you will be staying with Jiro-san and his daughter Kyoka-chan." Again, we all bowed. Kyoka-chan was the younger, dark haired girl. Upon closer examination, it turned out the long earrings were actually audio jacks that hung down as part of her ears. I was guessing this was part of her power. We all bowed.

It was a few hours later that we finally arrived at the Jiro home. I was exhausted and had spent most of the drive staring silently out the window. My new host-sister didn't seem to mind as she sat with an earplug plugged into her phone, listening to music. Occasionally our eyes would meet and she would give a small smile. All I noticed before I collapsed in to a deep sleep was that the Jiros lived in a standalone house and that Mrs. Jiro had dangling ear jacks like her daughter. Then … nothing.