Location: Naruhata District – Unit 202
The light in Naruhata was never clean. It filtered through the grime of the industrial district, casting a sickly yellow hue over the peeling wallpaper of Unit 202.
Crick. Crack.
Knuckleduster opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long time, tracing the cracks in the plaster as if they were a map of his own survival.
Huff. Puff.
He didn't move his limbs immediately; instead, he performed a mental "system check," assessing the air intake in his lungs and the rhythm of a heart that he was certain had stopped thirteen days ago.
The memory of the factory was the last thing printed on his retinas.
He remembered the rain, the smell of ozone, and the expression on Number 6's face before his knuckles split open.
Knuckleduster remembered the thunderclap of the bone-bullet—a hollow-point projectile of calcified tissue—tearing through his left collarbone and expanding inside his chest.
He could still feel the phantom sensation of his lung turning into a purple sponge and the wet, heavy thud of his body hitting the concrete.
He expected to wake up in a haze of jagged, screaming pain. Instead, he felt a strange, solid stability.
"Ugh"
Knuckleduster sat up slowly. The room didn't spin, and his vision remained clear.
He pressed a calloused, trembling hand against his chest, feeling the thick, professional-grade bandages.
Beneath the gauze, his skin felt tight and reconstructed.
Huuufff
He took a deep, experimental breath—a full, expanding inhalation that should have been a death sentence for a man with a shredded pulmonary artery. There was no rattle. No hiss. No pain.
"Master?"
Koichi scrambled from a folding chair by the bed.
He looked like he had aged five years in two weeks; his All Might hoodie was frayed at the cuffs, and his eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep.
Kazuho stood in the doorway, her knuckles white as she gripped the frame. Her face was pale, but her eyes were bright with a sudden, desperate relief.
"You're finally back with us," Kazuho whispered, her voice trembling. "We thought... for a while there, we really thought you weren't coming back."
Knuckleduster's voice was a low, gravelly rasp. "The factory... Number 6. How did we get out?"
"You lunged in front of me," Koichi said, leaning forward. "That bone-bullet... it took a chunk out of your back when it exited. The female villain said you were a corpse. Number 6 wanted to watch you crawl, but I didn't give him the chance. I grabbed your belt and launched us through the glass. We fell thirty feet into the flooded alleyway, and I dragged you through the storm all the way back to the apartment."
"The hospitals were a trap," Kazuho added, stepping into the room. She was shaking as she spoke, the memory clearly still raw. "Thay woman said the villains owned them. We don't know if its true or not but we couldn't take you there, Master.
We reached the hallway and you... you stopped making noise. You were gray. Your heart had stopped. I started screaming for help, and I thought that was it."
Knuckleduster looked down at the bandages on his chest again.
The stitching was too clean, the sterilization too perfect for a back-alley patch job. "Then who? No one in this district has the hands for this."
"It was Kaito-san," Koichi explained. "The neighbor from 203. He opened his door right when Makoto-san was about to call the ambulance. He didn't panic. He just... he looked at you and told us to bring you inside."
"He put you on his kitchen counter, Master," Kazuho said, her voice dropping to a hushed, reverent tone. "It was amazing. He didn't blink once. He used a needle to let the air out of your chest—it sounded like HISS—and then he went in. He pulled the bone shards out of your lungs while the heart was still beating. I was holding the lamp, and my hands were shaking so hard, but Kaito-san... his hands didn't move even a millimeter. He stitched your lung while it was still moving. He saved you."
Knuckleduster went silent.
He remembered Kaito—the weary, professional-looking guy in the suit he'd seen in the hallways and in that american hero building. A manager. A salaryman.
"That kid did this? On a kitchen table?"
"Thirteen days," Koichi said. "You've been in and out of it, but Kaito has been coming in every morning before he leaves for his high-rise job. He used antibiotics and those medical bags. He told us he just 'knew things' because he read more."
Knuckleduster didn't wait for any more explanation.
Thud.
He swung his legs off the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.
He ignored Koichi's frantic attempts to steady him, standing up with a steady, renewed strength that felt almost unnatural.
He needed to see this man. He needed to look into the eyes of the neighbor who had performed a miracle with a kitchen light and a pair of steady hands.
"Take me to him," Knuckleduster said. "I need to that kid in the eye."
_-_-_-_-_
TIP-TAP. TIP-TAP
The walkway of the second floor rang under Iwao Oguro's bare feet.
He stopped at Unit 203.
Behind him, Koichi and Kazuho hovered like nervous shadows, their eyes fixed on the Master's bandaged back.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK
Iwao knocked. Three steady, heavy raps.
The door opened. Kaito Arisaka stood there, He was in a plain white t-shirt and grey sweats, his dark hair messy and unstyled.
He held a tablet flickering with logistics data from CC Corp, he didn't look like a savior; he looked like a worker who had just pulled another shift.
"Old man," Kaito said, his voice grounded with releif. He didn't look surprised to see him standing.
He just adjusted his glasses. "You're walking. That's better than the alternative. I've got enough paperwork to handle without adding a funeral to the list."
Iwao didn't step inside immediately. He stood on the threshold and bowed—a slow, agonizingly deep bow of a man who lived by a code of honor.
"Kid..." Iwao's voice was a gravelly rumble. He looked up, his eyes meeting Kaito's with a weight of profound respect. "No... Arisaka Kaito. I don't have the words for what you did on that table. I was dead. You brought me back. I am in your debt."
Kaito leaned against his door frame. He didn't wave away the gratitude with a joke. "Come in. Close the door. The hallway doesn't need to hear about life debts."
Creak.
As they stepped inside, a door clicked in the hallway.
Makoto Tsukauchi stepped out from her unit, having noticed the movement.
She didn't stay back; she followed the group and pushed into Kaito's apartment, her investigative instincts overriding any sense of privacy.
She sat on the edge of the sofa, her gaze locked onto Knuckleduster.
"I heard the bow from the hall" Makoto said, cutting straight to the tension.
"Congratulations on your recovery Knuckleduster. But I just wanted ask it long ago. You weren't just hunting or searching a random villain in that factory, were you? You called that female villain 'Tamao.' Koichi said you looked like you'd seen a ghost."
The room went still.
Koichi and Kazuho looked at the floor.
Iwao looked at his scarred hands, then at Kaito.
He decided the man who had stitched his lungs together and the disciples he has deserved the truth.
"My name isn't Takeshi Kuroiwa," Iwao said. The admission seemed to age him. He looked at Koichi and Kazuho with a heavy, somber guilt. "I'm sorry, kids. I've been lying to you since the day we met. My real name is Iwao Oguro. Years ago... I was a Pro-Hero. They called me O'Clock."
Koichi blinked, his mouth falling open. "O'Clock? The High-Speed Hero? But... you disappeared."
"I was fast," Iwao said, a grim smile touching his lips. "Then I met a man who didn't care about speed. He was a shadow that lived beneath the world. He reached into me—not with a knife, but with something worse. He reached into my DNA and pulled the Quirk right out of me. All For One. The villain in the Ota Ward incident."
"What?!" "How??"
The name hung in the air like a curse. Kaito remained silent. But the shock was evident to the reaction of Koichi and Kazuho.
"He stole my legacy," Iwao continued, his voice thick. "He left me bleeding in an alley in Shizuoka, a quirkless ghost. And two years ago, my daughter, Tamao, went missing. I spent a year scouring every dirty corner of this country alone before I ever met you two in Naruhata. I thought it was a random kidnapping."
Iwao looked at the ceiling and remembering memories.
"I only just realized it after seeing the news," Iwao stated. "That villain didn't just return; he's been mass-producing the 'Trigger' drug globally. He's recruiting villains from every corner of the world to build an army. Kuin... that girl didn't hunt or kill Tamao. I don't know where she hid my daughter.
I just accidentally found some traces of Kuin and realized she was connected to the underground released of Trigger drugs. But that night in the factory I saw the face of my daughter for the first time in three years. I don't how Kuin was able to control the body of my daughter or brainwashed her."
Koichi's hands were shaking. He looked at the man he had called Master, realizing the mountain of grief Iwao had been climbing alone. "You didn't have to hide it, Master. We would have helped."
"I didn't want you in that shadow," Iwao replied softly.
Kaito adjusted his glasses. "What happened to your daughter can be one of these two things. Brainwashed or blackmailed. But from your tone she was likely being controlled by a quirk or something else. Don't worry about it, since you could see your daughter still alive, then they probably need her for something. If they noticed you survived, then they will come looking for you again."
It was a guarantee. To Iwao, it felt more solid answer.
"Thank you, Arisaka Kaito," Iwao whispered.
Kaito just nodded, turning back to his tablet.
"Eat your fill. And also my grandmother arrives tomorrow, and I need you guys to look like a normal tenants in a residential area, not a vigilante in a secret hideout.
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Shinkansen/Local Bus – Naruhata Bound | Time: Saturday, 10:30 AM
TO-TOOOT.
The Shinkansen roared through the Kanagawa coastline.
Grandma Saki sat by the window. Her back was a rigid line of Shizuoka pragmatism.
Beside her, Kimiko leaned against Kenji's shoulder, her hand resting on the gentle swell of her stomach.
Kenji was checking a printed map. He didn't want to get lost.
"Kaito is drawing too much attention," Saki said. She wasn't looking at the scenery. She was looking at the memory of the television screen. "That boy is supposed to be a ghost. Now he's standing in the light with American heroes."
"He's successful, Saki-san," Kimiko whispered. She smiled, though her eyes were tired. "Success is loud. You can't have one without the other."
"I'd prefer him quiet and fed," Saki grumbled.
Ssssss
The carriage door hissed open.
A woman in a vibrant, slightly loud tracksuit marched into the row.
She carried a bag of local snacks and a bottle of tea. She sat across from the Arisaka family and let out a long, theatrical sigh of exhaustion.
This was Shoko Haimawari.
"Visiting your boy?" Shoko asked.
She didn't wait for an answer. She was a force of nature.
"I'm heading to Naruhata. My son lives in a dumpy apartment, fails his exams, and spends his nights picking up trash for people who don't even say thank you. I have to go there just to make sure he hasn't turned into a pile of dirty laundry."
Saki offered a thin, dry smile. A bridge was formed.
"I am visiting my grandson. He is the opposite. He is always working. But he is socially detached. He forgets to eat. He thinks the world is a spreadsheet that he can manage, but he can't manage to call home unless I threaten him."
"Sounds like they both need a scolding," Shoko laughed.
She offered a bag of dried squid to Kimiko. "Eat up, dear. You're eating for two. You need the salt."
The two women talked for the remainder of the trip. Shoko spoke about Koichi's childhood—how he was too nice for his own good, stopping to help every stray cat and missing his hero school entrance exams for saving a child.
Saki spoke about Kaito—how he was always detached, acting like a king of a hardware shop when he was four, and how he never had a single friend in Shizuoka.
By the time they reached Naruhata Station, they were sharing tips on how to get stubborn men to eat vegetables.
They stepped onto the grimy platform together.
"Which way?" Shoko asked.
"The Estates," Grandma Saki said.
Shoko's eyes widened. "Get out! Me too! Is your boy in the same building as my son?"
They walked the streets of Naruhata.
Saki wrinkled her nose at the smell of industrial exhaust and grease.
Kimiko and Kenji followed behind, carrying the luggage and a box of high-end tea cakes Kaito liked.
_-_-_-_-_
Inside Unit 203, the air was pressurized with activity.
Kaito Arisaka stood in the center of the room. He was wearing a clean charcoal button-down, sleeves rolled up to the mid-forearm. He was a grandson preparing for a family visit.
"Koichi thank you for helping, but the banner is two centimeters too low on the left," Kaito said.
Koichi was standing on a stool, pinning a "Welcome" sign to the wall.
"Kaito! I'm on it!"
"Kazuho, the tea needs to be exactly seventy-two degrees. Any hotter and the leaves will bitter," Kaito directed.
Kazuho was in the kitchenette, plating snacks with a pop-idol's eye for aesthetics. "Got it, Kaito-san! I'm monitoring the kettle!"
Makoto was organizing the chairs. She looked at Kaito with a mix of amusement and genuine interest. "You're more stressed about your grandmother than you were about the bone bullet surgery."
"Grandma Saki's is more thorough than the HPSC," Kaito replied. He adjusted a coaster on the table. "Everything must be functional and welcoming. This is the only chance she has to see that Naruhata isn't a war zone."
Koichi jumped down from the stool. "I can't believe your family is coming all the way from Shizuoka. It's nice of you to let us help, Kaito. My mom usually just sends me angry texts about my grades. I'm glad I don't have to deal with that today."
Kaito didn't mention the text he had received an hour ago.
He simply checked his watch.
TAP-TIP. TIP-TAP.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. Not one set, but a group.
The heavy, rhythmic clack of Grandma Saki's heels.
The booming, energetic laughter of a woman Kaito recognized from the train station photos Koichi had shown him months ago.
Kaito walked to the door. He opened it.
"Grandma. Kimiko-san. Kenji," Kaito said. He offered a respectful nod.
"Kaito," Grandma Saki said.
She marched into the room, bypassing him to check the air quality.
She turned his face toward the light. "You're still pale. But the apartment is clean."
"Ma?!"
Koichi's voice hit a high, panicked note. He was standing in the middle of the room holding a tray of tea cups.
Shoko Haimawari pushed past Kaito, her eyes locking onto her son.
"KOICHI!" Shoko roared.
She lunged forward. "What are you doing here? And look at this hoodie! It's fading and old! Why are you in this room instead of yours, studying for your retakes?"
"Wait Ma! It's a surprise!" Koichi yelped, trying to balance the tea cups.
"I invited them, Haimawari-san," Kaito said. "It was more efficient to handle hospitaliry in one room. Just join us the more the merrier."
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Unit 203
Time: Saturday, 02:30 PM
The unit was full. The 2nd-floor landing felt like a village square.
Room 203 was a collision of worlds. Kenji and Kimiko sat on the sofa, talking to Kazuho about the local idol scene.
Makoto was asking Grandma Saki about the history of the Arisaka Hardware shop and the embarassing past of Kaito, her notepad filling with "invisible" notes.
Shoko was in the kitchen, "helping" Kazuho but mostly scolding Koichi while she stirred a pot of soup she had insisted on making.
Click.
The door opened again.
Iwao Oguro—Knuckleduster—walked in. He had a heavy brown bag in his hand. He was wearing a clean shirt, though the bandages were still visible at the collar.
He looked at the room full of women, children, and laughter. He paused, his grizzled face softening.
"I got the sake, Kid" Iwao said. His voice was a low rumble. "The good stuff from the corner shop."
He walked over to Kenji and offered the bottle. "Arisaka-san's friend?"
"Kenji," the man replied, shaking Iwao's hand. "And this is my wife, Kimiko."
Iwao nodded respectfully. He sat in the corner, a silent sentinel enjoying the "normalcy" he had fought so hard to protect.
He looked at Kaito and offered a single, knowing nod. The kid had done it. He had built a fortress of peace in the middle of a slum.
Grandma Saki stood by the window, watching the scene.
She saw the way Koichi looked at Kaito for approval. She saw the way Kazuho laughed at something Kaito said about the tea temperature. She saw the respect in Iwao's eyes.
She remembered Kaito at eight years old. The boy who sat on a stone wall in Shizuoka, staring at a cat named Boss.
He had been acting like a lonely king of an empty throne. He had shouted "Mu" at a feline because he didn't know how to ask a human to stay. He had spent his childhood detached, a ghost in his own home.
She had been sad for that child. She had thought Kaito was destined to be alone because he was "different."
But seeing him now, in this cramped, noisy, mackerel-scented apartment, she felt a profound happiness.
Kaito wasn't alone. He was the anchor. He was the center of a tribe who looked at him with warmth and trust.
He wasn't staring at a wall anymore. He was part of the team.
"Kaito," Saki whispered during a lull.
He looked over. "Yes, Grandma?"
"The tea is excellent," she said. She looked at Shoko Haimawari, who was currently laughing at one of Koichi's clumsy mistakes. "And your neighbors are... really active. But they are good."
"They are ok," Kaito replied. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on each of them.
But.
"By the way Kaito, it's a sad news. The feline cat, Boss, back in the neighborhood, passed away a week ago." Grandma Saki said with a heavy tone. After all the cat was also part of Kaito's childhood life.
"....."
"....."
"Is that so, rest in peace Boss" Kaito also felt heavy after all, some animals like the dogs, racoons and Boss in the neighborhood was his friends back then. They linger in the house and was part of his silent 'practices' and 'focused trainings'.
_-_-_-_-_
The sun set over Naruhata.
The orange light filled the room, catching the steam from the food and the smiles of the families.
The shadows grew long on the tatami.
The evening ended with the sound of laughter and the distant hum of the city.
Silence was a relic of the past.
_-_-_-_-_
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(9 Advanced Chapters)
[A/n]
Hey everyone, apologies for the massive consecutive delayed releases. The regular update schedule will be back today. Thank you for your patience and support.