The atmosphere in Arisaka Hardware felt thick and stifling, as if the very air were made of heavy, pressurized lead.
Behind the well-worn oak counter, Kaito Arisaka was hit by an overwhelming blend of scents: iron filings, damp concrete, aged wood, and a sharp, clinical odor that spoke of someone too accustomed to violence.
Kaito eyes were glued to the tablet in the pale, scarred hand of Shota Aizawa.
The screen displayed a thermal image captured by a police drone hovering at a high altitude. It had been taken just moments after the catastrophic event known as the 'Snap' obliterated the Ashita fire.
In the image, a blurry, pulsating mass of orange and yellow glowed faintly. It suggested the figure of a boy trying to navigate through the chaotic brightness and unsteadily making his way towards Kaito's residential block.
Kaito's mind raced with unease, shattering the silence around him. 'Oh no, he's not here just for bargains or quotes. He's on a hunt for me.' He thought, anxiety creeping in. 'Right now, he's like a bloodhound in a jumpsuit, and I'm the rabbit that reeks of burnt marshmallow.'
Kaito kept his hands resting on the counter, knowing that hiding them would only draw more attention to his guilt.
Instead, Kaito relaxed his fingers, allowing them to lie against the cool glass next to the tablet. A slow, tired frown settled on his face, the kind you might see on a shop clerk dealing with a customer trying to return a used light bulb or lamenting a price increase that was beyond his control.
"Carbon?" Kaito echoed, forcing his voice to remain steady even as his heart raced in his chest. He let out a dry chuckle, the sound harsh and gritty like sandpaper scraping against brick.
"Aizawa-san, just look around. This place predates proper ventilation. I spent the last three hours in the back hauling bags of coal and cleaning a soot-filled furnace because my manager, Kimiko-san, refuses to hire a cleaning crew. If I didn't smell like carbon, I'd start to worry that I wasn't doing my job or that I was fading into a ghost."
Aizawa's bloodshot gaze remained fixed on Kaito's hands with an intensity that felt almost threatening, like someone who has the ability to erase unusual abilities.
The silence in the store felt heavy, broken only by the distant buzz of a flickering fluorescent light in Aisle 4 and the occasional creak of the floorboards.
"Cleaning a furnace doesn't usually lead to the kind of brutal injuries you get from dragging eighty-kilogram bodies across concrete," Aizawa said in a low, gravelly voice.
"And it certainly doesn't explain how your heat signature matches that of the 'Soot Guy,' the one who saved all those children and an elderly couple from a collapsing building before the bright light hit. The survivors were clear, Arisaka-kun. They described a boy who looked like a 'Soot Ghost'—terrified, trembling, but completely determined."
In that moment, Kaito felt an odd twitch in his forearms. For a brief instant, his muscles felt... denser, sharper.
It was a strange sensation of newfound strength, as though his body had unlocked countless ways to throw a punch or leap over a fence, even though he had never set foot in a gym or watched a boxing match. He dismissed it as a cramp from lifting those concrete bags earlier.
'Great, now I'm getting muscle spasms from stress. My body is literally falling apart because some hobo-hero has decided to shadow my shop. I could really use a break, a new start, or at least for this guy to just fade into the background.'
"Tanaka-san is eighty-four and inhaled smoke for twenty minutes," Kaito said, leaning his chin on his hand in a show of indifference. His gaze drifted to a fly buzzing around a jar of 5-yen candies sitting on the counter.
"The man probably saw his late wife in those glowing embers. You're hunting for a hero but ended up with a clumsy teenager stuck in a high-stress part-time job," Kaito concluded.
"And those bruised knuckles? I hit them on a rusty pipe while using a wrench that looks like it's straight out of a museum. It's not exactly a heroic injury, Aizawa-san. Just a simple safety blunder. Are you going to file a report with the Labor Bureau, or are you interested in making a purchase? We've got duct tape on sale; it can fix just about anything."
Aizawa leaned closer, his capture scarf hanging over him like a looming shadow, making the small shop feel even more cramped.
"Logic tells me you're hiding something, Arisaka-kun. You're labeled a 'Dud', can't properly use your quirk, no power, no drive. Your school records show you scrape by, yet you were involved in a major incident that's thrown the HPSC into disarray. Most students would be excited to meet a UA teacher; you look like you'd prefer I didn't stick around so you can sulk in peace."
"Sulking is safe," Kaito replied, shifting uncomfortably. "Ambition comes with risks; hero work just attracts villains who could come after your home or your loved ones. I'd rather be the guy selling you nails to fix things after the heroes have done their work. The profit is better, and I get to live longer."
"I've weighed the risks of being 'special,' Aizawa-san, and it just doesn't add up. I'm just a supporting character who pops up for a moment before the spotlight turns to someone more important. I'm fine with staying in the background where it's safer."
Aizawa glanced one last time around the jumbled shop, a brief moment of relief blooming in the air. He pocketed his tablet.
"You do a remarkable job of being unremarkable, Arisaka-kun. It takes effort to be this consistently bland."
-----
Once outside, the bell jingled as Kaito let out a long, relieved sigh. He relaxed his shoulders, leaning against the counter, thankful that the 'hobo-sensei' had finally left. Now he could return to his ordinary life and tell Kimiko-san he needed a day off for 'emotional distress' while watching the paint dry.
As Kaito bent down to clean the glass under the counter, his hand brushed against something cold and metallic. Aizawa hadn't simply left; he had dropped a small, burnt evidence bag behind one of the displays.
When Kaito opened it, time felt like it stopped. Inside was a singed piece of plastic—his lost "Kaito" nametag.
Attached was a sharply taken photo in bright light, showing a boy in a FamilyMart apron, his face hidden in shadows but his hand perfectly captured. There was no mistaking it; the logo was from the very shop Kaito worked at.
Stuck to the back of the photo was a UA Recommendation Form, already filled in with Kaito's name scrawled in Aizawa's hurried, messy handwriting.
At the bottom, in bold red ink, a note read:
"Logical Conclusion: Arisaka-kun, your acting skills are pathetic. See you at the recommendation trials next week. If you don't show, this photo goes to the HPSC. They don't handle 'quiet breakfasts'; they manage containment units and indefinite detention for anyone they deem an 'unregistered threat.' Choose a classroom; they're better heated."
Kaito stared at the form, the color draining from his face until he felt as pale as a sheet of metal. His dream of a simple 9-to-5 job wasn't just interrupted; it felt like it had been hijacked by the most exhausted, logical man in Japan.
"Kaito?" his Grandma Saki called from the kitchen, the mouthwatering scent of grilled mackerel and simmering miso wafting through the air. "Did the hero leave? Was he looking for those heavy-duty door hinges we ordered?"
Kaito's eyes remained fixed on the photo, gripping it so tightly that it crumpled in his fist.
An unwelcome surge of power coursed through him—a physical ability he never wanted—and it felt like a betrayal of his longing for a normal life.
[An: His quirk at work. Explained in a few chaps]
"No, Grandma," he shouted back, a cynical edge creeping into his voice. "He was just a recruiter, one of those guys who thinks everyone dreams of starring in their own tragic tale, a pro-hero."
Kaito gaze drifted to the shelf stocked with hex nuts, his expression darkening with a mix of fear, exhaustion, and the harsh realization that he could no longer just be a background character.
"I'm going to have to increase prices across the board," Kaito quietly said to the empty store, feeling the weight of the UA form in his hand. "My life just got a lot more expensive and way more stressful."
---
Shota Aizawa leaned against a brick wall in a nearby alley, listening to the sounds of Ashita's repair work—the buzz of saws, the clang of hammers, and the wail of sirens—all of it only added to his growing headache. He pulled out his phone and hit the speed-dial button.
"Nezu, I've made contact."
A cheerful voice chimed in on the other end. "And? Is he really the hero everyone's talking about, or just a kid who happened to be in the wrong spot at a lucky time?"
"He's a liar," Aizawa said while watching a few teens walk by in their 'Hero X' hoodies. "A real master of deceit. He looked me straight in the eyes and claimed he banged his knuckles on a pipe—smelled like a chemical fire, too. His pulse didn't even budge until I showed him the thermal data. Even then, he just doubled down on being 'background noise.' It's quite puzzling."
"How did you find him so fast, Shota? The HPSC is still searching for clues in the wreckage."
Aizawa glanced at his tablet, pulling up the extensive file he'd pieced together over the past four hours.
"I didn't just follow the obvious leads. I started with the reports about the 'Soot Guy.' Survivors talked about a boy who seemed to have an uncanny knowledge of the building's layout. I compared employment records from local hardware stores with the FamilyMart roster from that night. Only one name matched: Kaito Arisaka."
"And the Snap?" Nezu asked.
"That was pure luck. An amateur reporter caught a live feed. This boy isn't just a survivor; he was right there when the entity appeared. I suspect he knows something important. Either he's the only witness who managed to keep his head clear during the chaos, or he's somehow connected to Hero X in a way we can't yet grasp. He was almost got flattened just as the snap and the entity came down—it could be a mysterious coincidence, or maybe it was a hoax. Either way, he's going to be under our wing."
"How fascinating," Nezu mused. "A kid who stumbled into the center of a miracle and just wants to be a salaryman. He'll fit right in at UA, don't you think?"
"Aizawa's brow furrowed in response. "He'll probably hate every second of it. And that's exactly why he's a great fit. He won't be swept away by the fame; he'll just focus on doing the job."
~~~~~
[Author's Note]
The secret is out! Aizawa has done his homework and Kaito is officially trapped. The "Soot Hero" and the "Hero X" are now under the microscope of UA's finest, even if they think they are two separate people.
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