THUD
CLAMP
The steel deadbolt of Unit 203 retracted at 07:00 AM.
Kaito Arisaka stepped into the hallway.
Sharp air.
The synthetic, chilled draft he'd installed struggled against the persistent stench of iodine from the atmosphere. A smell from the medication applied to an injured patient.
Fump.
Kaito adjusted his charcoal vest.
The wool-blend was slightly itchy against the nape of his neck, a constant, low-grade irritation he ignored through sheer discipline.
Every crease remained a razor edge.
Sluurp
He held a cup of black coffee, the porcelain showing a chip near the base that snagged against the meat of his thumb every time he took a sip.
The steam rose in a vertical line while the new ventilation system installed hummed a low, thrumming note that vibrated in his soles.
ZzzzzzzZzzzzzz
The overhead light throbbed with a dull, yellow buzz that made the back of his eyes ache.
A shadow moved near the stairwell.
Koichi Haimawari stood there.
He'd finished the stretch of hallway between their doors, but he looked like a man who had been hollowed out by a long night of bad decisions.
Koichi shouldered a frayed school bag, the strap held together by a single, stressed thread that looked ready to snap under the weight of his textbooks.
He was dressed for his sophomore year at the university, but the All Might hoodie he wore was a disaster—shredded at the cuffs and pilling at the hem.
His eyes were rimmed with a deep, bruised red.
Then
Koichi saw Kaito.
He straightened his back and offered a deep, formal bow.
"Good morning, Arisaka-san!"
SQREEEEEAK.
The sound was a jagged needle across glass.
Koichi's left sneaker was finished.
The rubber sole was delaminating from the foam, flapping like a dying fish on the white polymer floor Kaito had paid to keep pristine.
It caught the surface and groaned with a high-pitched, vibrating friction that set Kaito's teeth on edge.
Kaito looked down.
He didn't look at the Koichi's face.
He looked at the duct tape, which was peeling away in gray, gummy strips and leaving a black, sticky residue on the floor.
'He's heading to his class in those? The rubber is shredded. He'll hit a wet patch of sidewalk near the station and slide headfirst into a bus before the first lecture.'
"Arisaka-san," Koichi started, not rising from his bow immediately. "I realized I never properly introduced myself after... well, everything. I'm Koichi Haimawari. I'm a student over at the university. My Quirk is 'Slide and Glide.' It's mostly just for moving along the ground, but I'm trying to make it work for me. I'm also known as 'Nice Guy' but master didn't like it and called me 'The Crawler"
SLURP
Kaito took a slow, methodical sip of his coffee.
The heat was steady.
"Kaito Arisaka. Haken Specialist"
Koichi finally straightened up.
He blinked, taking in Kaito's starched collar and the heavy, composed atmosphere Kaito carried like a shield.
He looked Kaito over with a bewildered expression, his brow furrowing as he tried to reconcile the man in front of him with the age he assumed.
"Arisaka-san. If you don't mind me asking... how old are you? I figured you were at least twenty-five. Maybe a senior manager at Captain Celebrity agency."
Kaito stared at him over the rim of his cup.
"Twenty."
Koichi's jaw dropped.
"Twenty? We're the same age? I... I really thought you were much older. You just have this way about you. Like you've been doing this for decades."
Kaito stared at him in return.
'He's looking at me like I'm his grandfather. I'm twenty. The only difference is I've spent 2 years in 9-to-5 haken shifts while he's going to college and being a vigilante.'
"I've been working haken specialist shifts since I was eighteen, and didn't go to college" Kaito said.
His voice was flat.
"Jumping between blue-collar contracts and technical sites because the rent doesn't pay itself. You spend enough time on a clock that doesn't care about your birthday, you lose the luxury of looking like a kid. The situation forces your hand."
Koichi rubbed the back of his neck, his face turning a light shade of red.
"Twenty. Man. I'm over here just trying to pass my exams, and you're out there living like a pro. It's... it's a lot to take in."
"It's about decisions and opportunities. The pro-hero track didn't pay the bills. Logistics does." Kaito said, ignoring the boy's shock.
"And also don't be too formal, address me normally"
"And by the way your shoes are tattered. You're using them for your daily life and whatever you're doing on the streets at night. It shows. The soles are finished."
Koichi looked down at his feet.
SQREEEEEAK.
He shifted his weight, and the shoe groaned again.
"Yeah. I know. They've seen better days. Between school and the... other stuff... I've just about run them into the ground. I haven't really had the money to find a pair that can handle the friction of my Glide."
"It's hazardous," Kaito replied.
"You're pushing your gear past its limit. That's how people get hurt."
Koichi nodded, his expression turning serious.
"You're right. I'll... I'll see what I can do after my shift at the store."
Kaito walked past him toward the stairs.
His own shoes made no sound.
They were perfectly fitted.
"I'm heading out," Kaito said.
He didn't turn around.
"Take those off before you come back in. You're shedding lint and rubber into the hallway filters. Maybe I can find something in the warehouse at the company"
Kaito headed down the stairs.
"Huh!? What do you mean Arisaka-sa~.. Kaito." Koichi was puzzled.
Outside the apartment.
The buzz of the overhead light throbbed in Kaito's temple.
-----
Location: The Chuo-Dori Commute
Time: 08:32 AM
The bus was a humid cage.
The air was a thick soup of cheap deodorant and the sour tang of a spilled energy drink fermenting under the rear seats.
Kaito stood by the exit. He didn't touch the handrail—it was coated in a thin, greasy film left by a hundred hands.
He balanced on the balls of his feet. His body swayed.
The engine groaned a low-frequency vibration that rattled the base of his skull.
SCREECH.
The bus lurched. Kaito's weight shifted, his soles gripping the greasy floor as the vehicle groaned to a dead stop.
The driver's voice cracked over the intercom, vibrating with a tremor that didn't belong in a professional cabin.
"STAY DOWN! HERO ACTIVITY!
INTERSECTION IS BLOCKED!"
Kaito looked out the side window. The street was a graveyard of idling engines and grey exhaust.
In the center of the intersection, a man was losing his humanity to a needle, his skin mottled into a bruised purple while iridescent veins throbbed like live wires under his jaw.
"Is that the block guy? The rookie?" someone yelled, shoving a phone against the glass.
"Cementoss! He just debuted a week ago! Look at him go!"
The crowd was already pressed against the windows, phones out, capturing the chaos for the morning feed. Kaito checked his watch.
08:35 AM.
Cementoss moved with a heavy, deliberate rhythm. He was a mountain of grey stone in a high-vis world. He slammed his blocky palms into the asphalt.
"THICK WALL!"
FROOM. TWHICKK.
A jagged slab of concrete surged up.
BANG
The villain, his eyes leaking a thick yellow fluid, roared and punched through it like it was dry drywall.
Dust exploded. The junkie lunged, moving with a jagged, drug-fueled speed that made the air whistle.
Cementoss didn't flinch. He pivoted.
"GRAVITY PILLAR!"
SWHOOSH
A square column of stone shot out of the ground at a forty-five-degree angle, catching the villain mid-air and throwing him back.
The hero wasn't just defending. He was controlling the terrain.
FWOOMP.
He raised secondary barriers to shield a woman trapped in a red hatchback and sent a ripple of stone through the pavement to trip the villain's advance.
It was a total environmental advantage.
Everything was cement. Everything was his weapon.
But the villain was a freak of nature.
The Trigger Drug had turned his muscle fibers into steel cables.
CRICK-CRACK.
He tore a street sign out of the sidewalk and used it like a club, shattering Cementoss's stone walls into lethal shrapnel.
The hero had to divide his attention—one hand raising a roof over a nearby baby stroller, the other trying to pin the villain's feet.
It was a stalemate. A loud, dusty, amateur loop of stone being built and stone being broken.
"CEMENTOSS! CRUSH HIM!" the passengers on the bus screamed.
"HE'S HOLDING BACK! HE'S PROTECTING THE CARS!"
'Six minutes behind. He's focusing on the civilians so much he's letting a junkie dictate the pace of the fight.'
Snap.
Kaito silently rewrote the ground.
The road beneath the villain's feet lost its structural grip, turning into a black, bubbling slurry in a three-meter radius.
"What the?!!"
The villain, mid-swing, suddenly lurched. His feet sank into the black sludge.
He flailed, his momentum carrying him forward as the ground refused to hold his weight.
Cementoss paused. His blocky head tilted. He was puzzled—the asphalt shouldn't have liquefied like that.
He didn't waste the second of confusion.
Snap.
Kaito snapped again.
The slurry re-solidified instantly. He compressed the atoms until the street was a single, unbreakable block of granite-hard bitumen.
"Damn you hero! You got...a lot of tricks...Come on!!"
The villain was fused. He was a purple statue from the knees down. He was preparing to smash the concrete.
But.
Cementoss surged forward, his grey form a blur of heavy mass.
"No you don't Villain!"
"CONCRETE CAPTURE!"
WHOOSH-WHIIISH
Cementoss manipulated the cement to surround and trap him.
K-THWACK.
He then punched him hard in the face.
The junkie went limp. The purple glow in his veins flickered out.
"WHOA! HE TRAPPED HIM IN THE ROAD!" the kid on the bus screamed.
"CEMENTOSS IS A GENIUS! HE USED THE ASPHALT AS A TRAP!"
The passengers were cheering now, the bus rocking slightly with their excitement. They were calling out the name of the new hero, praising a tactical move that hadn't actually been his.
Kaito sat back down.
'I'm done with the bus or trains. I'm buying my own. Maybe I'll modify a variable-density frame. Something I can shrink down to the size of a briefcase to walk past these accidents, then grow it back into a heavy-duty sedan when the lane is clear.'
------
Location: CC Corp – Support Workshop (Roppongi Hills)
Time: 12:45 PM
The workshop smelled metallic.The air conditioning was a failure. It hummed a low, wet note that didn't move the heat.
Kaito sat at the lead operations desk. It was a raised platform made of brushed steel. He could see every station from here.
"Arisaka! The gold plating on the Mark 5 drones is peeling!"
Minato stood at the base of the platform. He was a junior tech. His Quirk, Heat Weld, made his palms glow a dull orange. He looked panicked. He was sweating through his uniform.
"Check the adhesive bonds," Kaito said. He didn't look up from his tablet. "The Captain insisted on a high-gloss finish. The chemicals in the paint are reacting to the heat of the thrusters. It's a vanity flaw. Strip the plating back and use the matte-gold industrial grade. The cameras won't know the difference."
"But the Captain—"
"I'll handle the Captain," Kaito interrupted. "Move."
Minato scurried off.
Kaito swiped a page on his tablet.
The agency was hemorrhaging money on "aesthetic maintenance." It was a circus.
He spent ten hours a day managing egos and fixing basic logistical errors that the previous manager had ignored because they were too busy being "yes-men."
"Arisaka-san, the aramid shipment for the capes is late."
Rin stood near the workbench. Her Quirk was Needle-Point. She could move metallic threads with her mind. She was the best seamstress in the agency. She looked exhausted.
"The supplier is stuck at the Chuo-Dori intersection," Kaito said. "A Trigger-addict caused a pile-up. I've already rerouted the delivery through the back streets. It'll be here in twenty minutes. Go get some water, Rin. Your hands are shaking."
Rin nodded and stepped away.
'They're all running on fumes. The Captain wants a parade every Tuesday, and these people have to build it. It's a waste of talent. I'm an Operations Manager, but I feel like a babysitter for a nuclear reactor.'
Kaito stood up.
His back gave a sharp, dry pop. He'd finished the patrol logs.
The fuel reports were filed. The safety violations were signed off. He had thirty minutes before the afternoon briefing.
He walked down to the far end of the floor. The "Reject Bin."
He pulled out a pair of high-spec polymer utility boots.
They were matte blue. Sturdy. They smelled of industrial glue and fresh rubber.
The Captain had rejected them because the blue didn't match the "Celebrity Sky" hex code on his suit.
Kaito sat at an isolated workbench. He placed the boots on the metal.
The surface was cold.
He closed his eyes. He didn't use a diagnostic tool. He placed his hands on the soles. He felt the molecular chain.
He forced the molecules to tighten. He wove carbon-nanotube lattices into the foam. He replaced the air pockets with non-Newtonian impact gel.
Snap.
The shoes didn't change color. They didn't change shape.
But the density was now three times higher. They would absorb the impact of a ten-story fall. No sound.
For a guy like Koichi, who glided on his feet, these were an upgrade that wouldn't hit the public market for years.
"Now the annoying squeaking noise is finally over"
He shoved the shoes into a silver Captain Celebrity gift bag.
"Arisaka! You still here?"
Hiroto walked by. He was the balding Operations Director. His Quirk, Paper Trail, allowed him to track any document he'd ever touched.
"Finishing the disposal logs," Kaito said.
"Is that more scrap? You know the policy," Hiroto said. He pointed at the bag.
"It's defective inventory," Kaito replied. He looked Hiroto in the eye. Unblinking.
"Structurally compromised. I'm taking it to the incinerator. Do you want to sign the form, or can I go to lunch?"
Hiroto backed off, raising his hands. "Fine. Just make sure it's burned. The Captain doesn't want his brand in a bin."
'The Captain's brand is a joke. He just hasn't seen the punchline yet.'
Kaito grabbed the bag. The silver plastic felt cheap.
-----
Location: Warehouse 4 – The Villain Factory
The air in the warehouse was thick. Scorched plastic and old grease.
A single lightbulb overhead hummed a high, sharp note that made the back of the skull throb.
Number 6 sat on a pile of rusted beams. He flicked a silver lighter.
Click-flame.
Click-dark.
Souta walked across the cracked concrete.
He handed a tablet to Kuin and left the room without a word. He didn't look back.
Kuin Hachisuka stared at the screen. Her bees created a dull, metallic BUZZ in the rafters.
The sound was constant. Grating.
"Drones checked everything," Kuin said.
"Morgues. Hospitals. The river exits near the waste plant. Nothing. No match for the DNA we pulled from the alley."
Number 6 flicked the lighter again. The flame illuminated his eyes. He stared into the fire.
"He's dead, Kuin. Don't be tedious. I saw the hit. Bone-bullet through the left lung. Perforated the pleura. Grazed the heart. No mundane survives that level of trauma. The old man was a relic. He's rot."
"The body wasn't found," Kuin said. She didn't look up from the tablet.
Number 6 closed the lighter.
Sharp CLACK.
'I saw the blood spray. It was a clean kill. A perfect end to a garbage life. Why are we still talking about a corpse?'
"The sewers were at high-flow from the storm," Number 6 said. His voice was flat. "He's food for the rats in the deep line."
"He won't survive. He is dead."
"If he were alive, it would already be on the news. Police will arrest the famous Naruhata Vigilante, Knuckleduster in the ICU."
Kuin swiped the tablet. The red dot over the Naruhata map blinked once and vanished.
"The file is closed," she said.
"Don't worry old guy, I will continue your legacy as the new O'Clock 2"
"Bwahahahaha"
Darkness settled back into the corner of the room. The buzz of the bees remained.
-----
Location: Naruhata Estates – Hallway
Time: 5:40 PM
Kaito walked up the stairs. The silver CC Corp bag crinkled in his hand.
Koichi was still in the hallway. He sat on the floor. Barefoot.
He was scrubbing his black rubber tattered shoes with a hand brush. His fingers were raw. Red.
He saw Kaito's shoes. He started to scramble up.
"Sit down, Koichi," Kaito said.
Koichi puzzled. "Arisaka-san. I'm almost done. I'll patch it off."
Kaito tossed the silver bag. It landed on Koichi's lap. Heavy THUD.
"What is this?"
"Excess," Kaito said.
"The support workshop cleared out the defective inventory today. It was headed for the incinerator."
Koichi opened the bag.
He touched the soles. He had never felt material like this. It was heavy. Dense. It felt like armor.
"Kaito... I can't. This is... I can't take this from you. I already owe you."
"I don't take back what I give," Kaito said. He looked Koichi in the eye. "It's a waste of my time to reconsider a disposal. If you don't want them, throw them in the bin."
Koichi saw the "CC Corp" logo. His eyes filled with water.
"No one... no one ever gave me anything like this," Koichi whispered.
"Then consider it an advanced recovery gift for the old man but you're the one using it" Kaito said. "I'm done with the squeaking."
-----
Location: Unit 203 – Entrance
8:43 PM
KNOCK. KNOCK.
A soft, hesitant knock came at Kaito's door.
Kazuho Haneyama stood there.
She held a plastic bag. It was covered in grease spots.
"Arisaka-san! I made these! As a thank you! For saving the Master!"
She handed him the bag.
Kaito looked inside. Six black, jagged discs. The smell of burnt sugar and smoke hit him.
"You burnt these," Kaito said. He wasn't being mean. Just honest. "They're basically charcoal."
Pop Step's face crumpled. "I... I tried my best. I'm sorry."
Kaito looked at the black disc. He looked at the girl. She looked like she was about to cry.
'It's not poison. Just failure.'
Crunch-chum chum
It tasted like ash. It was a punch to the back of his throat. Bitterness coated his tongue.
"Next time, lower the heat to 160 degrees," Kaito said. He chewed slowly. "Let the center bake through before the exterior browns. And use unsalted butter. It stabilizes the crumb."
Kazuho looked up. Her eyes were wide. "You... you're actually eating it?"
"It's edible," Kaito said. He swallowed the bitter charcoal. "It provides roughage. Just practice and cook more, Haneyama-san. And don't burn the next batch. And don't be so formal, just call me Kaito"
"Oh..ok.. Ka.. Kaito-san" Kazuho Haneyama stuttered.
-----
Location: Roppongi Hills – CC Corp Penthouse
Time: 23:00 PM
The penthouse smelled of Santal 33 cologne and the ozone of the high-end air purifiers.
Everything was white marble and gold leaf.
The recessed lighting was too bright. It caught every pore. Every micro-expression.
Christopher, Captain Celebrity, stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. He was flexed.
His chest was a wall of muscle that pushed against the seams of his suit. His cape—the heavy, reinforced one for the high-altitude gala—was draped over his shoulders.
"The symmetry is off, Hiroto!" Celebrity barked. His voice boomed in the empty room. "The left shoulder is sagging by a centimeter. I can feel the drag. It ruins the silhouette!"
Hiroto stood three paces back, holding a tablet. He was sweating. The moisture was visible on his upper lip.
"I... I've already sent the technical logs to Arisaka-san, Captain," Hiroto stammered. "He said the internal magnets are calibrated for your natural flight posture. If you flex while standing still, the weight distribution shifts."
Celebrity grunted. He adjusted his stance. The gold trim on the cape bit into his collarbone.
"Arisaka," Celebrity muttered.
He looked at his reflection. He thought about the phone call from the other night.
Most of the staff at CC Corp treated him like a god or a ticking bomb. They stuttered.
They bowed. They told him what he wanted to hear.
Kaito didn't. Kaito told him to fly a Mach 1 loop to iron a cape.
'The kid is a brat. He's blunt. He's arrogant. But it always works when he does it. No one else in this agency has the guts to tell me to use aerodynamic friction as a dry-cleaner.'
"He's the only one who isn't a complete disaster in the agency," Celebrity said, his voice dropping into a rare moment of honesty.
"He's a pain in the ass, but he's my pain in the ass. Did you tell him about the 'Kaito X' protein shake idea?"
"I... I haven't had the chance, sir," Hiroto said, wiping his forehead. "He's been busy with the patrol rerouting in Naruhata."
"Tell him. It's going to be a best-seller. High-intensity recovery formula. 'Kaito X: For the Fixer in You.' He'll hate it. It'll be hilarious."
"Hahahahaha"
Celebrity flexed his lats. The stabilizers in the cape gave a soft, magnetic hum. The weight shifted. It felt solid.
"He's too young to be that miserable," Celebrity said, admiring his jawline.
"He acts like he's lived three lives. But as long as my cape doesn't drag during the press conference, he can be as strict as he wants. Tell him to have the final adjustment done by 08:00 AM."
"Yes, Captain!" Hiroto bowed.
Celebrity turned away from the mirror. The white marble floor was cold.
"And Hiroto?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Stop sweating. You're dripping on the carpet. It's disgusting."
_-_-_-_-_
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