Disclaimer: The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi.

Author's Notes: Thanks for your interest!

0.0

'I'm sorry…'

Arisato Minato still dreamt about it.

In fact, the image of his saviour had stayed with him―long past the memory. It would have been hard to forget her amber eyes peering up at him, her hand raising to rest a finger before her glossy pink lips; those lips had parted briefly and mouthed that small word of apology.

That was all he had gotten from her.

Nothing more.

All there was afterwards… was pain.

It was a mockery at best; a cruel ironic twist at its worst. It felt like a higher power, far beyond what he could fathom, had tugged at the strings of the universe to put him here.

"Stop daydreaming," the stout middle-aged man said. "Complacency breeds, Arisato. Only if you allow it to. I've seen lesser talents go to waste."

A restless sigh escaped his opponent, rebuking him with a baleful stare. The man shook his head, and with a flick of his padded gloves, lowered the protective face-guard back in place. His opponent resumed his stance, settling his hands over the bokken placed at his hips.

"Come," was all Takahara Shinji, his sparring partner, said.

Murmuring a quiet apology, Minato offered a short bow to the older man. Exhaling, he took slow, measured steps across the length of the small practice area before his strides gradually lengthened into a full-blown sprint. He met Takahara halfway, their wooden swords clashing together for the briefest of moments.

Several lifetimes' worth of experience bled into him; experience not of his own.

In the vast ocean of his subconscience, the surface rippled. Without singling out one of his manifestations, plenty fought for his attention. Flashes of memories played out in his mind's eye. It was memories of unearthly skill, of indiscriminate mayhem, of domination by sheer strength, and of elegance in motion. The background and methods differed, but the crux of the memories were the same.

Blood was shed.

And the victor alone stood tall…

Minato ducked and spun into the attack, running his blade across the length of his opponent's own. Digging the balls of his feet into the mat, he switched his grip on the hilt, and manoeuvred it into an angled thrust, springing upwards, straight at Takahara's unguarded neck.

A heartbeat later, the helmet clattered to the mat with a dull 'thump'.

"Once more," the man groused, rubbing at his neck, "until I'm satisfied."

"As you wish."

0.0

"Thank you, Takahara-san."

Arisato Minato took the proffered sports drink and rolled it between his palms, allowing the cool metal to ease his aching hands.

The older man waved away his thanks. Standing outside a nearby convenience store, Takahara dug into a cheap onigiri set; one that had been a steady staple of Minato's diet―in his old life and his current one.

"You know, Arisato," Takahara said, mumbling around his food. It was strange just how different he was outside practice. "That school of yours, UA… Honestly, the talent pool must be incredible. I didn't think too much of you when you first started here."

He offered Minato an apologetic glance, slapping him on the arm.

"Being in the Department of General Education, I thought you'd be a bit… lacking, but I was wrong. You could have gone toe-to-toe with any one of my alma mater's Hero graduates. Not quite sure who'd win though… But don't let it get to you, Arisato. I'm sure you made the right choice in transferring to UA. The competition will do you good. Not like you're getting it from me," Takahara said, laughing. "Maybe you could even try moving up to their Hero track, if you apply yourself. That's about as prestigious as it gets."

He must have made a face because Takahara frowned. "Why? From what I've seen, you're more than capable enough."

"I'm happy where I am."

"Look, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with being content," Takahara said. "You're young. You've got your whole life in front of you, but that won't last. Trust me. One day you might wake up, and regret anything and everything. You got potential, Arisato. You could be one of those rare few that will leave their mark on this world, if you work hard at it. That drive―having purpose in your life… It's important."

Minato gave a non-committal hum.

The awkwardness lingered, causing Takahara to sigh.

"I didn't mean to sound like this old man knows best, but think about it, will you? I'm gonna take a quick hit and run back to the dojo." Takahara pulled out a pack of cigarettes and began hitting it against the back of his hand. "You run along now. I don't want people thinking I'm polluting young, impressionable minds. See you tomorrow, Arisato. Give my best to Yao-chan if you see her!"

Minato offered a short bow and his salutations to Takahara as he left.

He didn't keep track of the time as he started his trek back to his sublet apartment. It was already dark out, and there was little else to do but watch as the rush of human traffic passed him by.

There wasn't much to differentiate the minutiae between his world and this.

It was safe to assume that it was a mirror-perfect replica of his own Tokyo. To be fair, the reality of this world was vastly different. The advent and subsequent proliferation of Quirks had altered the very fabric of society. As if to prove his point, a cat-person rushed past him, ears glued to his cellphone. Minato could hear him chattering on about a potential business deal.

It took a little getting used to when he first arrived all those months ago.

He had simply appeared in a run-down alley, albeit the location was suspect, with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Half-incapacitated, he had blearily emerged to a busy intersection. The glare of dozens of neon lights and the mindless, incomprehensible white noise from both passers-by and the general traffic did nothing to ease the monster thrashing about in his skull.

Then, almost all at once, it stopped. Like a picture-book, the crowd stood, transfixed at the sight of the digital billboard above them.

The news segment gave way to a live broadcast, capturing nothing but a broad back at first. The shot refocused and panned out, revealing a hulking behemoth of a man garbed in an eye-catching, multi-coloured spandex. A short but destructive battle ensued, and it wasn't long before the man towered over his mangled foe; a strange mess of feathery limbs and teeth.

As if aware that he was on air, he sent a grin over his shoulder, propping his thumb up. Just like that, the spell was broken, and the crowd broke out in raucous cheers.

Back then, Minato didn't know why, but as he pulled his knees to his forehead, he started laughing. The sudden peal of delirious laughter that bubbled out of his lips slowly subsided, and the emotions that remained, the memories of a previous life―

"Hey, w-watch where you're going!" a bespectacled man said, slurring.

Minato rubbed at the spot on his arm where they had collided. He didn't say anything, but offered an apologetic bow.

"Damn kids! Absolutely no manners to 'em," the man grumbled, swaying lightly on his feet as he walked away. "It's them Quirks. Goddamn powers messing with their heads. Schools ain't teaching the right values no more. Everything's got to be flashy nowadays; got no more substance to 'em."

Minato stood to the side, resting his back against the shutters of an abandoned store. He was close to his apartment, a few more minutes off. The crowd of people had thinned the further he walked. It was in a run-down neighbourhood, quite a ways off the city centre.

He mulled over Takahara's advice.

He had a purpose, but that was in his previous life―purpose driven by the bonds he had created. Here, he was no one; just another face in the crowd.

Yet, despite all the differences he had seen…

Apathy.

He heard voices, in hushed but aggravated tones, coming from the nearby alley. No one else around him seemed to have noticed, as sparse as the passers-by were.

Anger.

There was a distinct 'bang', like something had been forcefully knocked over.

Fear.

He heard a whimper; a woman, quietly pleading. He peered around the corner, spying a gaggle of men―three of them―surrounding a blonde-haired woman.

It was still the same. At its core, humanity could and would never change. The darkness that dwelled within the collective unconscious was like a crushing torrent. No matter how hard one swam, it was inevitable to be pulled under and swept beneath it.

Elizabeth had given him a second chance in this world; one where he could decide his path in life without interference. Still, Minato was an alien here and he had no designs on being another Pro Hero to the masses. He couldn't walk away, however; not when he had the power to right the wrongs before him.

Without an evoker, his abilities were limited, but he was never helpless. The well of power inside him remained.

When Minato closed his eyes, the image of blood and fire came to mind. It was a story as old as time; of a masked deity that had been banished by its creator for biting the hand that fed.

Rakshasa, the 'maneater', demanded the stage.

He tempered the alien bloodlust inside him. Instead, another came to the fore, and he allowed the divine being entry. While Rakshasa was a being of slaughter and depravity, the persona he had chosen was its antithesis.

Minato found comfort in its familiarity. The contentment of feeling whole again was welcomed, like fitting the final jigsaw piece in place. No words were exchanged. Rarely was there a need to, but sometimes it was nice to acknowledge it.

"Thank you, Hanuman."

Hanuman.

The patron god of martial arts.

Flashes of a life not his own came to him; the memories were otherworldly. First, there was praise, then came the adulation―outright worship simply became the afterthought. It was revered as a bastion of courage and fortitude, but yearned for nothing more than to devote its being to the god, Rama. It had, since time immemorial, lived up to that quixotic existence.

That was why, despite its appearance, Hanuman embodied the virtues of human excellence; one of which was self-control.

Wanton destruction wasn't on his agenda tonight.

His steps become lighter as he took to the alley, finding a degree of limberness that had not been present before. Minato tugged his bokken from its bag, shifting and twirling the wooden blade in his hand. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his eyes. It wasn't much in way of protecting his identity, but it was dark enough to obscure his face, if he kept to the shadows.

"Oi, Ryuuji… There's someone coming," he heard one of the men say.

"Huh? 'the hell is this circus act?"

Ryuuji had the bearings of the leader of this motley crew. He wore loud, extravagant clothes, gaudy jewellery, and had the most unfortunate beady eyes Minato had ever seen. He had taken his hand off the wall, allowing Minato an unhindered view of their captive.

The woman was like something out of a magazine; long blonde hair, sharp features, and the body to go with it. The rather plain office attire she wore seemed almost scandalous in the way it hugged her curves.

Minato had wanted to say something then, to warn them off, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

The woman looked the part of a damsel in distress, but beyond the tears and the polished grimace of terror on her face, it was her eyes―her large violet eyes―that told him as much.

They were too composed.

She was in control here, and not the other way around.

"I'm sorry," Minato said, bowing. "I'll take my leave. Excuse me."

"Guh, wait―Kyaa!" The blonde shrieked, crossing her arms over her chest. A finger poked out from her shoulders, gesturing to an as-of-yet-named goon. Well, one of them. "He just groped me! Devil! Molester! Satanist!"

Twin cries of 'I/he didn't touch you' rang out. Minato wanted to point out the same. In fact, the whole situation had been turned on its head.

It was bizarre.

"I get it now. It's a goddamn honey trap," Ryuuji growled, giving Minato the once-over. "And you're supposed to be the ringer? Gonna bait me with some pictures you took? Well, I won't have it! I worked hard to get to where I am! You don't own a chain of pachinko parlours by tripping over every wannabe that gets in your way! W-Where the hell do you think you're going?"

At this point, Minato had, ever so slowly, started backing out of the alley.

"Wah~~ Someone! Anyone! Save me~~!"

"Go! Get him! Get his phone! I want those pictures back!"

Without any further prompts, Ryuuji's underlings charged towards him at full tilt. Arguing at this point would have been pointless; any objections would have fallen on deaf ears.

Minato took half a step back. Blowing out a breath, he reared down on one knee as he slung his bokken over his shoulders.

His practice sessions with Takahara had been just that―practice. It had never devolved beyond their swords. The man had been adamant. Quirks had no place within his training hall. In this world, weapons like his were often nothing more than antiquities. It was left to people like Takahara to fly the flag of a bygone era.

Quirks were still something relatively unknown to him. It was all too easy to compare Shadows and Quirks. Certain subsets of Shadows could be identified by their appearance; the heroes of this world did the same here with their costumes. Sadly, t-shirts and jeans weren't much of a give-away, so Minato erred on the side of caution. Thankfully, the contrasting green and red of their shirts helped to separate the duo.

Green stopped short suddenly, slamming a fist into the ground. A hint of hesitation welled within Minato when he noticed his hands sink through the concrete, as if it was water, and burying it up to his elbows.

Instincts not of his own all but screamed at him to move.

A spindly concrete fist came barrelling from the side of the building next to him, almost grazing him. Another came for him, expected this time, but it emerged from the ground. It forced him into the air, using the now-inanimate fist as a perch.

Green scowled as he pulled his fists back, and Minato hopped down on solid footing, just as the concrete fist sunk back into the ground.

"You're quick, kid," Red said. "But are you quick enough to handle the both of us?"

Red reached for his slick back hair and mussed it up. Then with a warring cry, he started spiking it forward, like he was trying to shake off dandruff. The ground before Minato rippled and threw up concrete stalagmites.

Huh…

Quirks were weird like that.

What happened next was almost like being on auto-pilot. Aided by the unnatural grace of Hanuman, he manoeuvred around the combined efforts of the relentless duo. Each step brought him ever closer to his adversaries, and Minato could sense the apprehension and desperation, as their attacks met nothing but empty air.

There wasn't a point to prolonging this any longer.

Whatever small thrill of adrenaline that flooded him earlier was gone. He could feel apathy coming from his persona. Only a being like Hanuman could have made sense of the chaotic onslaught before him and pick out the pattern inside it.

Minato obliged and moved, ducking beneath and weaving around a rush of concrete stalagmites. It was a split-second blur that decided the fight. He was close, close enough to see the sweat dotting their brows, close enough that when he pulled the bokken from his hip, the wooden blade swung in a controlled diagonal arc and found its mark at Red's temple.

There was to be no rest, no reprieve, for Green.

Green was crouched, paralysed. There was only time for the fear and apprehension to reach his eyes before Minato, shifting his grip on the plain hilt, brought the blade down upon his opponent's head with two hands.

Surveying his handiwork, Minato noted that there was a refined efficiency to his brutality. He then whispered a word of gratitude to his persona as Hanuman returned to the sea of souls.

"Thanks, kid," the woman called out to Minato. Her eyes were fixed on a phone as her thumbs blurred in front of the screen. "The other mook left by the way, but I got what I wanted from him―for now."

He couldn't let himself be seen. With this lighting, he could see her just as well as she could see him. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt tighter over his head.

Minato turned to leave.

"You got some moves on you," she said, putting the phone away. "Guess it's not your first night out, huh? I didn't know you UA kids could go around gallivanting as vigilantes. Your provisional hero license might get revoked if they catch you swinging your sword around for the hell of it."

Minato kept his voice low:

"I'm not from UA."

"Ehhh~~ Then why are you wearing a UA sweatshirt? They don't really sell that kinda merch outside."

He stiffened, reaching for the front of his hoodie, then quickly realised his mistake. It was still spring; his fall and winter clothes were still stored in his wardrobe. These were his personal effects. Minato had been caught flat-footed. Turning slightly, he sought her eyes―they were just as sharp as ever. The smile she gave off was like a cat toying with its food.

"Oh ho! So you are from UA," she said, coy. "For what it's worth, you did help me get out of this 'pick-pick-pickle'. We'll keep this a secret between us. But~~ If you want to come clean, you could always come wo―H-Hey!"

Without another word, Minato ran.

0.0

Takeyama Yu was alone.

In an alley.

It didn't smell or anything. She wasn't a connoisseur either. But as far as alleys go, it wasn't the worst she had ever seen. However, she found herself tapping her foot relentlessly; the phone held aside, forgotten. She was eyeing the entrance, where her pseudo-saviour had just been previously.

It just doesn't happen.

People didn't just run away from her. Well… maybe they did by virtue of her Quirk. Seeing a twenty-metre tall woman usually evoked 'fight or flight' tendencies when she was hurtling their way.

But people didn't ignore her. You see, it―

"―just doesn't happen," she muttered to herself, gesturing with the phone to an unseen audience.

"What doesn't just happen?"

It wasn't hard to place the voice.

It was deep, confident, yet tinged with a hint of confusion. Ignoring that last bit, every man, woman, and child could guess who it was, given that at a particular point in their lives, they probably wished to be him.

Even her.

"All Might," she said, turning to face him with a winning smile.

Yu had heard it mentioned before in the Pro Hero circles―about their personal encounters with All Might and the sheer presence he exude. They weren't lying. She had met him before, a few times even, but that was only in passing and at a distance.

Not like this.

She had to practically crane her neck at a ninety degree angle just to see his face. It had never been this intimate. It was just the two of them… in an alley. Which, as far as clandestine meetings went, wasn't the worst she ever had.

Gosh, he was dreamy up close.

The way his brows scrunched in thought, the gleam of recognition reaching his shadowed eyes, him snapping his large hand…

'Snap!'

She unconsciously flinched.

"Ah ha! Aren't you Mount Lady? We've met before, haven't we? You're quite new to the Pro Hero scene―barely under a year? Excuse me for saying this, but it's hard to put a name to a face without a costume."

Yu couldn't help but smile wider. "Y-You know who I am?"

"Of course. You've done some good work since your debut―very spirited, very able. You have a lot going on for your future, young miss. Keep it up," he said, propping a thumbs up.

She would have swooned into his muscular arms, but her professionalism kept her on her feet. It did little, however, to stall a small giggling fit.

"Bwahahaha! Yes!"

That was just how she giggled―with her head and scrunched hands raised to the heavens. Plenty of her fans have said that it was an endearingly cute gesture.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm better than all right, All Might! Having my idol and the 'No. 1' Pro Hero say that to me… You just made my entire year," Yu said. "Uhm, do you mind if I get a selfie? I need to update my SNS followers."

"Perhaps later. You're out of costume. It would be inappropriate for your identity to be known to the general public."

"Then just a quick personal―"

"Was this your doing?" All Might cut in, surveying the area. "I was nearby when I heard the sounds of battle; rushed here the moment I could. It didn't last very long, did it? And the level of destruction… it's relatively tame. Quite unlike you, young miss."

Yu bit the inside of her cheek.

There it was again…

"It's Yu," she said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"My name," Yu repeated, licking her suddenly dry lips. "My name is Yu. Takeyama Yu." She smiled again, this time strained. "Or you could just call me by my hero name. Calling me 'young miss' makes me sound…"

She left it hanging intentionally.

"My apologies, Takeyama-san. It was rude of me."

"It's a minor thing, really." When Yu smiled, she made sure that her eyes crinkled. "Anyway, sorry about the mess here. I was just following up on a lead sans costume. It got a little heated."

She gestured at her state of dress, then at the scene around her.

"Uhm, you mind looking the other way about all this? I'd rather they wake up and run back to their boss. I'm working towards something here. I already relayed a message up to despatch that I'll be keeping an eye on them. Pinky promise!"

"Is that so?" All Might said, rubbing his chin. "Were you alone?"

Yu laughed, saying, "I'm no slouch, All Might. I could handle myself without my Quirk. But I did have a friendly neighbourhood hero drop by to help me. Didn't catch his name, sadly. He was the strong, silent type."

"Someone new perhaps?"

Yu hid a frown. She had tried to deflect attention away from the vigilante, but there were witnesses in the form of the unconscious mooks. It wouldn't do to lie to All Might. "Possibly. There's quite a number of rookies popping up lately. Say, how's life at UA? The students in that school must be on a whole different level than the rest of us, huh? Getting trained by All Might, no less… Fuah~~"

The switch in topic seemed to galvanise her latest alley buddy.

"I still have plenty to learn, Takeyama-san. This may sound superficial, but I honestly believe that the students under my charge have as much to teach me as I do them. It is a humbling experience. Shaping and moulding the minds of the next generation is no easy feat. The responsibility of it can be quite daunting."

"Anyone promising you have an eye on?"

"There are a number of talented seniors that I believe are ready to take it to the next level. Why do you ask?"

Yu ducked her head down, smiling shyly. "Well, I'm looking at the next level too. I did just open my agency recently."

All Might seemed to have connected two and two together. "That is a splendid idea, Takeyama-san! It will be a rewarding journey, not just for the student, but for yourself as well!"

"Haha… don't mind, don't mind. It was just a stray thought, but hearing you say all this has me convinced." Yu took a finger to her chin, saying, "Still, I don't think I'm all that experienced yet to be able to accept that kind of responsibility, especially if it's a first-year. I'd prefer to have someone with a teensy bit more experience to help me handle my day-to-day issues. The hard part is that most of the older students would already have ties to other agencies, right?"

"Well, certainly not all of them. There are still students seeking newer and better experiences out there. I'm sure you've heard of our annual Sports Festival that will take place next week? Bear in mind, there'll be plenty of scouts in attendance. But who knows? You might find the perfect candidate there."

Yu laughed lightly, but failed to hide the eagerness in her eyes. "I'm not the type patient enough to wait a whole week. But, who knows… Just out of sheer coincidence, I might get lucky and stumble into him tomorrow."

"That would sound like more than just a coincidence."

"Bwahahaha! You're silly, All Might. But enough of that. Say… You think I could get that picture now? Pretty please~~?"

0.0

Arisato Minato yawned.

The school bell chimed in tandem, signalling the end of the school day. Like clockwork, he removed his well-used PE-03 P-ATL audio system from his bag and donned one of the earpiece, leaving the spare one free.

He felt like it should have come sooner, especially after a brutal double period of World History. While it was a subject that required more memorisation than mental gymnastics, it was still a chore to learn an entirely different timeline than the one in his world. He had considered repeating from the first year initially, but the idea of being two years older than his classmates was unappealing to say the least. Aiming for the best school in the country was another mistake on his part.

Maybe he could still ask for a transfer…

He bade farewell to his homeroom teacher, Snipe, and a few of his classmates on the way out. Plenty were cordial with him, but these were students who had grown up together in the last three years, having already formed their own cliques. To them, he was simply a passenger in class.

It wasn't ideal, but the arrangement suited him well enough.

Just as he made his way to the door, it slid open, revealing a wall of grey. He hadn't bothered to look up at that point because a large calloused hand reached down to pat him on his shoulder.

It was emasculating.

He wasn't that small.

"Ah, Arisato-shonen! How goes your studies? It must not be easy acclimating to a new school. I hope you haven't found it too stressful."

This was unexpected.

A teacher interacting with a student at school was normal. However, having the symbol of peace and the icon of the Pro Hero world know his name, his background even, was odd, to say the least. Worse, he was distinctly aware that all the eyes in the room were focused on him.

"I'm coping, sir."

"I'm very glad to hear that, son," All Might said, his smile revealing a perfect set of teeth. "Very glad indeed. Now, where are you off to so soon? Club activities? Say…" There wasn't a point given how tall he was, but All Might did the motion of peeking around his back, at the plain black utility bag that held his bokken. "That wouldn't happen to be a shinai, would it?"

"It's… similar. Practising helps me focus."

"Good on you! Some say swordsmanship is a forgotten art. It'd be a waste to lose such a precious part of our history just because of the times we live in today."

It was incomprehensible how, on the surface, it sounded like mundane small talk. To him, it felt like a chess match against a grandmaster; one where his opponent saw through his moves from the beginning.

"I'm sorry, sir. I have to go. My work-shift is about to start."

"Ah, don't let me keep you then. I was just making a quick house call to Snipe." All Might squeezed his frame against the door to let him through, not before snapping a sharp salute. "Safe travels, Arisato-shonen!"

Removing himself from the classroom, Minato noticed that All Might passed along the same conciliatory greetings to some of his classmates. It made it seem like their short interaction was nothing out of the ordinary.

Still, as he made his way out of the campus and into the city proper, lost in the mass of students making their way out, he couldn't help but feel all of this wasn't entirely coincidental after last night's affairs. It was hard to place, like a pinprick at the back of his neck, but he had the eerie feeling that he was being watched.

…

Why were there so many people waving? And why were they so many men with cameras out all of a sudden?

Minato looked up and frowned.

How in the hell did he miss that?

What towered above him was like something out of a Super Sentai series. It was a Pro Hero he had heard plenty about, but was fortunate to never come across, given the wanton destruction she could inadvertently cause just by tripping over her own two feet.

The woman wore a purple skin-tight vest over a nude-coloured bodysuit. The outfit, lined with an orange accent, was designed with sharp, vertical "V's" that drew the attention downwards. However, Minato was drawn to her domino mask, where two horned appendages ran along the sides of her temples, poking out from her long, blonde hair.

Her violet eyes, the same ones he had seen last night, positively gleamed, when their eyes met.

Mount Lady bowed at the waist, half-crouching, to gesture at a four-storey tall signboard with a finger. A mini-version of her was on the billboard in an exaggerated pose. Next to her, a text box read: 'The Agency of Mount Lady Is Currently Recruiting!'. Then, in the smaller fine print, it said: 'Only Short-listed Candidates Will Be Notified'.

"Everyone, I look forward to receiving all your wonderful applications!" Mount Lady said. "Those UA students in the crowd! Please remember to take my agency into consideration. Your future career as a Pro Hero is important. I won't spare any expense or time to hone you into the shield that protects our society!"

The kiss and the wink at the end brought about a rousing ovation from the mostly-male crowd.

Minato didn't think about running away this time. It would be counter-intuitive. Besides, his shift was about to start soon. So, he continued on his way, knowing that the pair of eyes were following him every step of the way.

It didn't take long.

She was waiting for him further along the road, in her normal size this time. It wasn't hard to see because she was surrounded by men; all of whom were glued to their cameras, shouting for her attention as their camera flashes went off like a dizzying light-show. When she saw him, she squeezed her way out. There was a lot of waving and smiling to her fans, much to their disappointment.

"Yahoo, stranger~~ You're not as tall, dark and handsome as I'd thought you'd be."

Minato continued walking.

"It's a joke, just a joke. C'mon, I never got to thank you for last night. It was… fun." She held onto his utility bag, tugging him back. "Well, no rewards for guessing what you're hiding inside this thing."

"Calligraphy set."

Mount Lady smiled winningly. "He speaks! Finally!" She kept pace with him, but walked ahead so that she was in his face. "Ne, ne, what's your name?"

He sighed before relenting, "Arisato Minato."

"You're the strong, silent type, huh, Minato? Well, nice to meet'cha. We haven't been formally introduced, but I'm sure you know who I am." At his nod, her smile widened to the point that it was predatory. "Well, of course, a super rookie like me is bound to have her fair share of attention. It's forgivable that you didn't recognise me outside of my costume last night."

He made no effort to deny her statement, but offered a withering glare as he turned a corner into the small street that housed his place of employment.

The bell chimed as they walked in.

"Then again, I suppose it is only fair that I tell you my real name," she said, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "But~~ it's gotta be some place more intimate than…" She stopped and looked around, asking, "Minato, why are we in a konbini?"

"I work here," he said, making a beeline for the back. "Stop following me."

Looking back, her expression soured as she eyed the sterilised walls and orderly aisles lined with immaculately-shelved products. "Ugh, not anymore, you're not."

He wanted to rebut, but stopped himself upon noticing his supervisor, Yuuda-senpai; a man in his mid-twenties with medium-length brown hair. Yuuda was seated at a table at the far end of the small break room, scanning through a sheet attached to a clipboard. He mumbled around a pen:

"Yah, Arisato… Last night's stock take didn't tally." Yuuda leaned his head back to look at him. "We're missing a carton of Curry Ramen. It's a real head-scratch―"

Sadly, that was when the heroine poked her head in.

"Mount Lady?!"

"Yahoo~~" Minato was budged up against the door as Mount Lady forced her way into the break room. "You're a fan, I assume?"

"Well," Yuuda said, scratching the back of his head. "In a way. I almost rammed my bike into you once when you were fighting that snake villain last year. Thank All Might, I didn't. The insurance would have been a headache."

"Ahhh, the Anaconda… That fight was a toughie. I still have lots of 'official' letters for that one lying around."

"So uh, Mount Lady," Yuuda said. "What brings you to the backroom of this particular J-Mart?"

"Ah, that's right." Stamping a fist into her palm, Mount Lady then dragged him over. Minato wouldn't admit it out loud, but he did try to resist; the woman was surprisingly strong. "This young man here," she poked a finger on his cheek, "I'm going to steal him away from you. I want him as my sidekick."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," Mount Lady said, serious. "I'm gonna help him reach his potential. I'm just here to get some character reference."

"Well, Arisato is a valued member of this J-Mart. He's responsible, systematic… downright a perfect worker. I would hate to see him go, but I don't think I could ever stand in the way of anyone's dream."

"You're not," Minato said. "She was just leaving."

Forcibly, he began to nudge the woman towards the door. Well, tried to anyway. She wouldn't budge an inch. Mount Lady held a finger up, oblivious to his plight. "Mah, mah… Let's do that thing that people normally do―Sorry, I meant, normal people do. You know, that thing where no one actually wins, but they each get something in return."

"You mean, compromise?"

"Yes," Mount Lady said, her smile strained. "Let's… compromise. See, I just opened my own agency, and expanding is a very big step for me. It's something you only get right once. Sooo~~ I need Minato to come in and help manage all that complicated stuff as my sidekick!" She smiled at Minato, adding, "If you ever feel that it's not what you want, you can leave whenever. I'll even write you a letter of recommendation, complete with an autographed picture too!"

Yuuda was nodding to her words. "That's a sound offer, Arisato. Not a lot of people get these kinds of opportunities, especially at your age. You'd be a knucklehead if you didn't jump at it right now."

"Exactly!"

"I mean, you'd probably earn a lot more there than you do here. Pro Heroes are paid well for all their sacrifices in the line of duty. I'm sure their subordinates are as well."

"Mah, mah… let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Mount Lady stressed, laughing weakly. "He's still just a student, you know."

Minato furrowed his brow. "I won't get paid?"

"Of course you will! I'm sure we could work out a small stipend for you. I was totally gonna do that anyways. Somewhere between uh… How much do you earn here?"

"Three thousand a day," Minato said. "On average."

"I could match that," Mount Lady mumbled, but hesitated when Minato frowned. "But―But I could probably do you one better, you know. It'll be long hours and lots of hard work, but you'll be fairly rewarded for it. I'm even willing to work around your schedule." She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. He tried not to wince. "Honestly… Where else in Tokyo could you get a boss as amazing and pretty as me?"

Minato looked to Yuuda for guidance.

The man shrugged. "Hard to argue with that."

Minato made a show of mulling it over. "I need to think about it."

As it turned out, it was the wrong thing to say.

"That's no good," Mount Lady said, pouting. "Hey, uh you… I'm bringing Minato along with me. You can manage things here without him for the time being, right?"

"Sure," Yuuda said. "Just swoop him away. That's fine, I guess." He turned to Minato, adding, "There's always going to be a place for you here. Just turn in your schedule if you ever feel like you need to clear an extra shift or two."

"I'm not―"

His reply died on his lips when she got in his face. "Minato… Have you ever seen Tokyo from way up high?"

0.0

Arisato Minato idly realised that the woman seated next to him was peculiar, to say the least. In between bites of the famous 'Sky Soft' sundae, she'd share strange nuggets of wisdom; some more horrifying than enlightening.

"They're like ants down there. Teeny, tiny ants," Mount Lady mumbled around her spoon, more to herself than to him. "And it's all just a game. A dancing game… A game where you have to dance around the little ants. How could you not step on ants?" she asked herself, aghast.

Mount Lady wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, her eyes lingered over the horizon.

It was a view unmatched in Tokyo; a panoramic view of the city that could only be offered atop the Tokyo Skytree. They were in its in-house cafe, seated at the far end with a bird's eye view over the city. As they were, their presence went virtually untouched by the odd tourist or two that ventured inside the overpriced establishment. The cafe attendants seemed familiar with her presence, and offered a kind word or two before resuming their duties.

As it turned out, the heroine had been a mascot for the famous attraction shortly into her career. Minato spied a poster depicting a chibi version of Mount Lady promoting their soft-served ice cream. In a separate bubble, her character laid out of the nutritional facts of said ice-cream, as well as the equivalent number of steps it would take to burn the calories off.

Minato eyed the monstrosity he was holding in his hand.

That was… a lot of steps.

"Mini-me ain't lying. This thing is as sinful as it is delicious." Mount Lady snorted before adding, "Being a Pro Hero has its perks, but it shouldn't surprise you that it comes with a lot of red tape. When I first started out, there wasn't a lot that a rookie like me could do, especially given what I could do. In the end, I came up here a lot―sometimes to think and sometimes to get lost in that giant puzzle you see in front of you." She sighed wistfully. "Tokyo is a very different place than where I grew up."

Minato raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to continue.

She leaned in and whispered, "I ain't telling. Figure it out yourself. The fun, they say, is in the mystery."

Their conversation lulled into another amiable silence. It was only once he could see through the bottom of the translucent cup that once held his sundae, that he deigned to ask:

"Why me?"

She grinned, the toothy-kind of grin. "You look fun, like a puzzle I get to solve."

Minato tried not to sigh.

"Listen, I've seen pro-rookies bumble their way through a fight because of their nerves, but you… you made beating down goons look pretty. I'm very sure you're not a vigilante. You didn't come looking for a fight last night, and you were sharp enough to know what was going on. That was instinct, experience and talent all mushed into one. It's not something a student should have. The funny thing I found out today is…"

Mount Lady grabbed his lapel and toyed with his school pin; the one that signified his department. "You're not even in the Department of Heroics. So tell me… How could a girl not be interested in you? I don't even know your Quirk and you've already got me this excited."

"It's―"

"Don't ruin it for me! I wanna figure it out by myself!"

"Is that it?"

"Minato… I don't like going into the mushy crap, but… you have a good heart. You saw something wrong, and instead of ignoring it, you came to help. If that doesn't scream 'hero', then I obviously don't know what that word means."

Mount Lady looked increasingly uncomfortable as she went on, "Look! You have lots of good points, is what I'm saying. I'm not gonna bother with the boring rhetoric of what I could teach you to become a Pro Hero. You're not the type to fall for it. All I'm saying is that we could be good for each other―partners in crime good!"

She blinked dumbly. "I meant that figuratively, of course. So, what do you say?" Mount Lady asked, biting her bottom lip. "You wanna be my kick ass sidekick?"

Minato was quiet. Then, he let out a breath.

"Five thousand."

She looked unimpressed. "Don't push it, mister. I'm willing to go up to four, max, but I'll bring you out to eat, like twice a week. Matsuya or somewhere close by―nothing pricey!"

"Agreeable."

Mount Lady cackled, taking his hands in hers and shaking them. "Bwahahaha! Hard to resist me in the end, huh? Well, you won't regret it in the long-run. I'm the type of gal that plays for keeps, and you," she rose up from her seat and booped him on the nose, "are a keeper."

Minato gave her a flat look.

"Whelp, I'd better get back and start on the boring stuff. Schools are such sticklers about safety. I have to get approval for you to come onboard and do up some forms, and blergh-ge-urgh…" She made a face, but perked up almost instantly. "It'll be much better with you around."

She leaned in close―close enough that he could feel her warm breath tickle his ear. "By the way, it's Yu," she whispered. "Takeyama Yu. I'm partial to Yu-chan when I'm not in costume, but Onee-chan works too; either at work or for fun." She winked for good measure. "I'll probably drop by UA tomorrow to finalise the deets. I've never been there before. You can show me around!"

Minato groaned.

"Later, 'gator!"

She'd be the death of him…

Minor Arcana: Wands (III)…

Side Note(s): Sorry, please do not expect regular updates. I'm in need of a beta for this story. If you're keen, please contact me.