Mind Games - Chapter 14

The insectoid-heteromorph threw a harsh punch.

The boy in the masked outfit, silver boot-print logo on his back, ducked and stepped back.

Two heroes standing nearby whipped their head in the direction of the sudden movement, their eyes widening and their jaws dropping as the heteromorph stepped forward, his hand leaving the arm of the child who had been standing next to him as he stepped up to throw another punch.

That punch, the teenager didn't dodge. Instead, he stepped underneath it, grabbing the wrist of the arm that was now extended over his back. Both hands wrapped around that limb and, with one fluid motion, the teenager catapulted the adult heteromorph into the air using the combined force from his sudden standing motion and the pull from his hands on the extended arm.

The video paused, freezing on the screen as I watched my own performance from six hours ago.

“You've already given a statement to the attending hero, Hot Ice, recounting the events which led up to the altercation in the hallway,” the Flame Hero Endeavor stated, his elbows resting on his impressive desk as he stared at me. “Given that we have both her own testimony, that of the sidekick Lantern, and corroborating footage from the building's security system, I'm not going to ask you to do so again.”

I nodded, not feeling the need to add to anything he'd said.

“Instead, I want to ask you one question which does not have a substantiated answer in the recounting you've already given,” Endeavor said, still staring at me levelly. “During your altercation with the individual alleged to be involved in the human trafficking ring you helped uncover, you – self-admittedly – could have neutralized the criminal during his first attack.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Hot Ice standing against one of the large office's walls, her back straight and her hands tucked behind her back. Her helmet was on, as was her firefighter's jacket, the image being projected as her being in 'full uniform,' so to speak, at parade rest.

“You want to know why I didn't?” I asked.

Endeavor, his famous facial hair extinguished as he stared at me, nodded. It was a less imposing look, but at the same time... more personable. Either intentionally or unintentionally, he'd successfully painted the illusion of having this conversation as two people rather than an unlicensed intern and one of the most experienced and powerful heroes in the nation.

“I won't lie, there's a significant amount of weight riding on your answer,” Endeavor stated, his tone grave. “Both because it will inform my personal opinion of your ability to measure up to the title of 'hero' as you are right now and because it will help me decide a course of action I would normally not condone. To reiterate the question... why did you not act as a hero should in such a situation and subdue a known threat in the shortest time possible once you had resolved to act? Especially when there was a child in close proximity.”

Well, that's not ominous at all.

“Two principal reasons,” I replied. “The first, mostly-superficial, is that I wanted him to establish that his first blow wasn't any kind of accident. To commit to his assault on me. Given he'd already been able to talk his way into removing a panicked child from your agency, that implied significant interpersonal skills and/or the ability to act to some degree. If I'd simply flipped him at the first punch, there's the outside chance that he could have played it off as an accidental swipe of his hand and used my seeming-aggression towards him to dismiss my claims as the ramblings of a deluded and violent teenage wanna-be hero.”

I paused, sensing Hot Ice shift more than seeing her. “Regardless of the attending pro-hero and sidekick's opinion of me, the stakes were such that I was not willing to risk that kind of play being successful. Hence, I had to allow him to attack me at least twice before subduing him myself or allowing Hot Ice or Lantern to step in and deal with him.”

Endeavor kept staring at me, then nodded. “You said that was the first. Given your position as inexperience, unlicensed, and fairly-unsubstantiated character outside of one incident... that reasoning is understandable. The second?”

“I wanted him to let go of Tyelovuyo,” I replied, nodding to the screen.

Endeavor blinked, then subtly stiffened his posture as he reached for the remote he'd put down moments earlier and rewound the footage.

-as the heteromorph stepped forward, his hand leaved the arm of the child who had been standing next to him as he stepped up to throw another punch-

Endeavor paused on the frame where Tye's uncle, a man unironically named Vile (though pronounced differently) released his grip on his younger relative's arm.

“Removing Tye from the situation, or engineering it so that he could remove himself, was of ultimate importance,” I concluded. “Even a retaliatory throw couldn't be implemented while the child was in a position where injury could be done to him as a result of actions taken against his uncle, to say nothing of the possibility of Tye being held hostage once his lie was unveiled.”

Endeavor visibly chewed on my statement for a long moment, reaching up to rest his pointer finger under his lower lip as he cupped his chin with his thumb.

I waited on my verdict.

“Because of your intervention, we were alerted to a human smuggling ring of an ethnic minority in South Africa. The people are being imported to use as slave labor in the Second Ming Dynasty. The child, Tye, had escaped a warehouse where they were being held after a storm damaged the vessel in question and they were forced to make port here in Tokyo.” Endeavor's explanation was nothing new.

I'd gleaned as much from speaking with – and translating for – Tye over the first hour or so after the incident.

“There are aspects of the situation I wished you would have handled differently,” Endeavor continued, frowning at me thoughtfully. “In an ideal scenario you would have been able to maintain your composure while speaking with criminal, broken contact, and alerted Hot Ice to the specifics of the situation as you understood them. That would have allowed a professional hero to take over and manage the potential fallout, as they are trained to do.”

There was a subtle pressure on the word 'trained,' to which I nodded. “You have my apologies for not being able to keep my mouth closed. The entire thing came about as such a surprise and my initial actions were taken without proper thought and consideration.”

Hunch slightly, dip head, tilt eyes down. Manipulate perceptions to reduce threat, increase sympathy, portray regret. Clench hands, display subdued frustration.

Endeavor grunted, then nodded. “It's good that you understand your mistake. That said, results count for a significant amount in this business, as you will soon discover. The fact that the criminal attacked you first, you did not use your quirk in the altercation, and visibly acted only in self-defense without any attempt to further prosecute the fight following the throw... the legal complications are minimal.”

There was another pause, then Endeavor's shoulders drooped and he reached under his desk to pull out a bottle of fruit-blend juice, before throwing it to me.

I caught it mostly on reflex.

“Removing an innocent from the line of fire is a very good reason for taking an extra moment to end a fight,” Endeavor stated, a small smile gracing his lips as he visibly relaxed into his seat. “Your actions directly contributed to saving three dozen lives today, Shinso. Take pride in that. It's perhaps the most eventful first day of an internship I've ever heard of.”

So said, Endeavor pulled out a milk tea and tossed it at his daughter before removing plain water for himself and draining half the bottle in one go.

Hot Ice – Fuyumi – having stepped forward to catch the drink, bent over and nudged me in a fluid motion, then whispered, “He likes you, good job.”

I hummed in agreement and popped the lid on my Twilight Zone Juice given to me by Negaverse Endeavor from the Nice Guy Dimension.

Truly, this was doubtless a world of eldritch horror and cosmic nightmares.

Good juice, though.

Endeavor settled into his seat in a show of very human fidgeting that was directly at odds with the previous display of a granite-like wall of muscle wearing the barely-emoting visage of a man. With a sigh, he took another long pull from his water, almost finishing it and staring at me again in a more casual manner of observation, discarding the previous cold-burning gaze that made me feel as though he was trying his best to put me under a microscope. This stare was similarly blunt and obvious in its assessment, but more contemplative than dissecting, as if he'd already taken me apart to see what made me tick and now needed to decide what to do with me.

“Do you prefer Bootstrap or Shinso?” Endeavor asked.

“For the purposes of this conversation, either will do... but I probably need to get used to the former if I'm going to be making a real go of it,” I stated with a nod.

Endeavor nodded back, vaguely approving. “It's been a while, but I still remember adopting my hero name. It can be a challenge getting used to being addressed by something other than your birth name, but you should acclimate as quickly as possible. Responding immediately in the field can be instrumental in saving lives, both bystanders and comrades.”

“Bootstrap, then,” I stated, taking a pull from my juice.

“Very well,” the Flame Hero stated. “Bootstrap. I suppose I should begin the discussion we're about to have with the disclosure that my agency does a full background check on every prospective intern application that crosses my desk. Under normal circumstances, someone with your family history would have been a hard sell to my managerial team, especially the PR and legal groups. I trust you know why.”

It wasn't a question, but there was a tacit invitation to respond waiting in the words. “My mother was arrested five years ago as the villain mastermind behind a bank robbery.”

Hot Ice stiffened in the corner of my eye, her eyes wide behind her helmet's visor.

Huh, so she really didn't know. I was curious if I'd read her right the first time, but Endeavor really didn't tell her.

Interesting.

“I called in a few favors and got a look at the sealed file,” Endeavor admitted, his face professionally-blank. “If only because it piqued my interest to see a villain's court records sealed after such a – and I mean no offense by this – minor incident, especially with an exceptionally light sentence for the crime she committed.”

“No offense taken,” I replied with a shake of my head. “Even if the incident might mean a great deal to me emotionally, on an intellectual level I understand that it was probably a relatively mundane occurrence for law enforcement. No fatalities, no serious injuries, and the arresting hero team was a local set of B-listers.”

The store down the street being broken into is a curiosity unless it's the one where your relative or friend works, then it's a problem. When it directly involves them, though, it can easily become a tragedy.

“How much do you know about the details of your mother's case?” Endeavor asked, his tone... not quite curious, but distantly inquisitive.

“Enough,” I both tried and did not try to hide the quiver of anger in my voice, a psychic disconnect between the 'Hitoshi Who Had Been' and the 'Hitoshi Who Now Was.' I grimaced and took a drink before elaborating. “The bank's CEO sent a pair of lawyers to our home, I listened at the door. You can probably imagine how the conversation went if you actually looked at the file.”

Endeavor nodded and I quietly marveled at the fact that I only saw sympathy, not pity, in the hero's eyes. “I can, though I'll reserve the right to ask you more detailed questions with a legal aide present at a later date-”

My eyebrows shot up and I stiffened in my seat.

“-for which you shouldn't be surprised,” Endeavor pivoted with a frown. “It's an obvious miscarriage of justice and the entire case stinks to high heaven.”

“I'm just surprised you would pick a fight with the largest national bank in Japan,” I replied. “Especially on the behalf of some kid you just met.”

“Shin-Bootstrap,” Hot Ice broke in, stepping up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder cautiously. “You aren't just 'some kid.' You're a very promising hero candidate with a bright future. I don't know what you and my father are talking about-” She directed a mild glare at the man, who cleared his throat and looked away, reaching for the remainder of his water as if to shield himself. “-but if he believes something illegal was done, it's our duty as heroes to investigate it.”

“Forgive me for any disrespect, but those are just pretty words, Hot Ice,” I replied with a shake of my head.

She opened her mouth to reply, but her father raised his hand, silencing her. “Daughter... enough. Young Bootstrap has been wronged and that harm has gone unnoticed and unaddressed. He is well within his rights to disregard our assurances until we can show him substantial proof that we're making progress on his case.”

Fuyumi grimaced behind her visor, but released my shoulder after one last reassuring squeeze. “Alright. I'll drop it for now. But you'll be explaining why you didn't bother to tell me about any of this beforehand, Dad.”

Endeavor flushed slightly, drained the rest of his water and dropped the empty bottle into a bin by his desk. “I wanted an impartial assessment of the boy by someone I trusted, Fuyumi. Moreover, someone that he was already familiar with to some extent, so they might get a better read on his character. Regardless, we've digressed from the issue at hand...”

Endeavor fixed me with another one of those considering looks. “I want your assurance that, if I put you in front of a camera or in a position of public visibility, you won't make public accusations regarding your mother's case.”

Ah. He wants to make sure I don't start a Corpo War between his agency and the bank. The bank which likely handles significant portions of his finances, if not the majority of them.

Even if Endeavor could legitimately claim that he had no idea I'd go off-script, the damage would be done. Someone nominally employed (using the term very loosely) by his agency would have made a public accusation of criminal actions against a major financial institution and, in Japan, you could sue people for slander and libel even if what they were saying was factually true. Beyond the damage that a lawsuit would do, there was also the near-certainty that the bank would start delaying, denying, and misplacing financial transactions 'accidentally' as an object lesson to any other well-meaning heroes who cared to point out their legal shortcomings.

Fire is not the answer, Hitoshi, and it's not the question either. None of this 'how much' nonsense.

Even if it would be incredibly satisfying.

 “You have my word,” I nodded. “Speaking out about the incident with my mother would only result in handicapping your agency's ability to properly investigate the case. Moreover, even if it did result in my mother's early release, it would likely impoverish my parents and likely result in them moving to make good on their threats to deem my father incompetent to raise a child.”

Or have him committed because of his quirk.

Endeavor snorted, embers catching in a brief flare as he exhaled through his nose, a revealing sign of exactly how angry he really was even if one ignored the righteous fury burning in his gaze. “I see we'll need to have that conversation sooner rather than later, but...”

The Flame Hero took a deep breath, releasing it in a gusty exhale as he closed his eyes and visibly let the anger go. “Even if it's disheartening for one so young to understand the realities of the situation as they stand, it speaks well of your level-headedness and ability to put an equitable resolution above a personal grudge.”

“Not that I don't find complimenting my ability to emotionally distance myself from my mother's unjust imprisonment... gratifying,” I stated, my normal toneless voice bleeding into sarcasm at the end, to which both of the heroes appeared unhappy, but willing to grant me without rebuke. “But the turn this conversation has taken implies that there's going to be a situation where I'm put in front of a large crowd, a reporter, or a camera for some reason.”

I let my assertion hand in the air as I looked between the father and daughter who were glancing at each other.

“Everything I know about internships says that's not a normal consideration.”

Endeavor leaned back in his chair, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his desk. “No, it is not. However, I find myself in something of a... complication, regarding this human-trafficking case. The primary issue at hand is the fact that it is very likely you are going to be called to testify during the trials of the organization's leaders, some of whom have both Japanese citizenship and the financial resources to leverage it properly.”

Fuyumi's words from before the confrontation echoed in my mind. “Both because I was the one who uncovered the deception and because I'm the only one you have who can speak the language other than the victims.”

It wasn't a question, but Endeavor's nod still confirmed what answer it would receive. “My people have begun making inquiries and reaching out to specialists, but the specific dialect of Khosian they speak is rare, made rarer by the adaptation of the language to their endemic heteromorphic quirk factor. Apparently it is quite difficult to pronounce common phrases without a pair of flexible mandibles.”

I grimaced and rubbed at my jaw. “That does explain why my jaw is so sore. Usually I only get mild headaches after picking up a new language.”

Hot Ice turned her head sharply. “Do you need something? A painkiller? You should have told me if that application of your quirk was taxing, Bootstrap.”

“The headaches come and go and they're pretty mild unless I try to do more than one language in a week,” I waved her off, spewing bullshit from my mouth as I went. “I carry a few over the counter pain pills in my pack, just in case I run into a new one I haven't heard yet.”

“You told us that your quirk automatically allows you to digest the knowledge of a given target's language upon verbally interacting with them,” Hot Ice stated, frowning. “But I don't think we asked how many languages you actually know.”

I leaned back, making a show of thinking it over, then held up a hand. “Let's see... Japanese, obviously. English from the guy who taught me jeet kune do. I picked up Korean from a little old lady running a street stall. Russian from a businessman who asked me for directions once. Han Chinese from a group of refugees that used to live down the street-”

That one, at least, is true and verifiable.

“I have a classmate who goes on vacation to France, so I grabbed that from her-” Another bit of truth woven into a tapestry of lies. “I picked up Spanish and Portuguese from some guys at a beach a few years ago, I think they were on vacation? Anyway, Vietnamese from another little old lady running an ethnic restaurant. I can give you the address to that one if you want. Most of these people I just kind of ran into and didn't get names for...”

I cocked my head. “Hindu is the only one I actually hunted down on purpose, I think. There was this video series I wanted to watch on Herotube so I asked my dad if we could go out to an Indian place for dinner once.”

Looking at my hand, I'd cycled through the fingers once and had all but the thumb up again. “So, nine – or, well, ten now that I know... you said it was a dialect of Khoisan?”

Hot Ice was staring, but her father was more composed, his stare having shifted to a mix of the two different modes I'd seen him look at me, both dissecting and contemplating. After a brief moment, he appeared to have decided something, though his daughter preempted whatever he wanted to say.

“I'm making you an appointment to have your quirk reassessed,” she informed me in no uncertain terms, as if daring me to refuse. “You'll be taking the full psychic battery. I'll have a form for you to take home for your father to sign.”

She paused, then frowned as she stared at me. “Considering what you've said... does he know about this application of your quirk?”

Intentionally shifty, avoid gaze to the side, fidget, clear throat-

Fuyumi folded her arms across her chest as her tone became more dangerous. “Shinso. You told me in the hospital that you'd spent your educational career systematically underperforming. I can't imagine a parent who cares about their child's future would allow that to happen, now that I think about it. Does your father know you have an eidetic memory?”

Increase awkwardness, scratch at neck to show anxiety, clear throat more intensely while muttering an answer-

“I'm sorry,” Fuyumi stated, removing her helmet and tucking it under an arm so that her saccharine-sweet and very threatening smile was fully exposed as she glared at me. “I didn't catch that. Could you repeat yourself, please?”

In an Emmy-winning act of desperation, I shifted in my seat to look past the young woman and at Endeavor instead. The older man raised a single red eyebrow and slowly shook his head, now drinking from another bottle of water he'd pulled out of what I was convinced was a hidden mini-fridge behind his desk.

Even as I avoided Fuyumi's probing gaze and settled in to endure the anger of someone who actually cared about my welfare, there was a part of me that felt guilty at fooling the woman so thoroughly and completely by using that same concern against her.

Notably, that part of me wasn't the Sidereal.

This level of deception was equivalent to a child's primary-school crayon drawing.

But, if I wanted to be able to operate at even a mildly-reduced level, I had to sell the lie. And there was no better way to sell a lie than to eclipse disbelief with anger, sadness, or other powerful emotions. It made the person want to believe in the lie you were feeding them.

“I said,” I stated, clearing my throat awkwardly once more, “no, he doesn't. I didn't want to bother him and it was... a later development of my quirk.”

Fuyumi's brows furrowed as she cocked her head again, the anger not gone but overshadowed by puzzlement. “It's rare to see that in a quirk. If I've got the timeline right, this would have been after your mother's arrest... you don't usually see a quirk mutate like that outside of an awakening event, and even with the psychological trauma, the response of your quirk to enhance your memory...”

I hummed in the back of my throat and continued to refuse to meet her eyes.

“What aren't you telling me, Shinso?” Fuyumi asked, nigh-on demanded from the cool tone in her voice.

“I... would like to preface this admission with the fact that I've had two MRIs done in the years since, one after a bad fall in late primary school-” Really more of a 'push' than a 'fall,' but who's keeping track? “-and another after the kidnapping incident. Both were completely normal and showed no irregularities beyond what you'd expect from my quirk under normal circumstances.”

Fuyumi had stopped blinking and the room had gotten much colder suddenly. “That is, perhaps, the least-reassuring reassurance I've ever heard. I'm curious why you would feel the need to explain that to me, Shinso.”

“Because... I've deliberately obfuscated the fact that my quirk works on myself, too,” I replied with a sigh. “If anything, it's more effective on my own mind given that I don't have the same resistance to a foreign intrusion that other people do.”

Finally, the white-haired woman blinked, taking in my statement and digesting it before the temperature dropped several more degrees, cold enough that I could see my breath forming clouds of condensation in the air as I breathed through my mask.

“You brainwashed yourself, as a child, to alter the way your mind works and artificially-induce eidetic memory,” Fuyumi stated tonelessly.

“Not having to study as hard for math and English tests seemed like a great idea to an eight year old,” I replied bluntly, a confession in spirit, if not letter.

There was frost forming on the floor by Fuyumi's feet as she took a calming breath, the chill in the room gradually abating as she closed her eyes and concentrated. Finally, she opened her eyes and stared at me. “You are going to tell your father what you've told me, Shinso. You are going to attend the quirk reassessment testing I've scheduled for you, and you are going to be honest and forthright with all of the applications of your quirk while doing so. You are also going to have a full medical workup while you're at it. To do otherwise would display a disregard for your own health and safety and that of the civilians you need to interact with as regards your quirk and its abilities. Until this point, you've displayed remarkable maturity and insight that makes me think you have a bright future ahead of you as a pro-hero. I'd rather you not prove me wrong.”

“I was planning on getting my quirk reassessed before I attempted to test into a hero school,” I groused in the type of slightly-immature teenager attitude, reaching up to scratch at the back of my head.

Fuyumi sighed and reached up to rub the bridge of her nose. “I'm sorry, Shinso, let's just say that... children not receiving the kind of training and counseling they need to properly manage their powers is something of a hot button issue. I tend to overreact somewhat when it's brought up.”

I'll admit, part of the reason why I was so willing to forgive her for handing down what were essentially mandates when we'd known each other for all of a few hours was because I could literally see the well-meaning concern and legitimate desire to help me in every movement of her body. I could also see, of course, the deep and abiding frustration of seeing a problem and not being able to just fix it.

Besides, I'd probably have largely the same reaction if a teenager told me they'd used their superpower to do psychic surgery on themselves years ago in secret and never really had a medical evaluation after the fact. Realistically, I'm somewhat lucky I'm not being dragged off to the ER right now.

Oh, sure, I knew that I wasn't in any danger because of higher-order fiat-backed Company Bullshit, but Fuyumi both did not and could not know that. Her response was entirely natural, which was kind of the point of this whole exercise.

Well, that and the five other birds I wanted to kill with this stone.

I considered the entire gambit I was undertaking here remarkably restrained, actually. Part of me had wanted to construct a Rube Goldberg Machine out of this necessary deception to set in motion a dozen more potential plans with far-reaching consequences. Three guesses which part of me that was... and the first two didn't count.

“You still think this is a good idea, Dad-er, Endeavor?” Fuyumi asked, turning to her father and trying to reclaim some of the professionalism that she'd irrevocably lost in my eyes.

Endeavor put his water down and nodded. “As long as young Bootstrap keeps to his word and no serious medical issues are brought up by his experimentation with his quirk, yes I do. I don't see why a youthful indiscretion, especially a comparatively mild one that has seemingly boosted his own skills without serious visible repercussions, should bar him from a potential opportunity.”

That was... a lot of subtext.

Like someone in a dark room maneuvering around obstacles they knew were in their way but not entirely sure of the exact orientation or makeup, I could feel a topic being talked around between the elder Todoroki and his daughter. It was especially apparent in the way that otherwise boilerplate statement seemed to take a great deal of aggravation out of Fuyumi and reduce previously-volatile temperament to a simple contemplative nod.

...and then there's the way her eyes just unfocused as she turned towards me.

As if she was looking at me, but seeing someone else.

Not for the first time, I wondered at the exact details behind Enji and Rei's divorce in this timeline, as well as why the children had come to live with him after custody had been awarded to their mother.

Something had clearly happened.

“So... to get to the heart of this discussion, now that we have digressed greatly,” Endeavor quirked a self-deprecating grin for a moment before returning to his serious countenance. “What do you actually know of the hero licensing program, Bootstrap?”

I paused, packing away my previous thoughts and switching tracks to the new topic. “I know about them in broad terms, at least. Provisional licenses, proper hero licenses, support licenses... I haven't really plumbed the bureaucracy to see all the minutiae of the requirements yet. I assumed they'd be covered at UA or whatever school I got into.”

And, frankly, I was busy enough that the specifics were a concern for later.

“They will be, and much of the details of the program as a whole aren't relevant to my current point,” Endeavor nodded. “Suffice to say, while those may be the most well-known aspects of the program, those are not the only types of licenses on offer. A 'proper' hero license, as you termed it, is formally known as a 'Unrestricted General Occupational Heroics License,' and is both the widest-ranging in its privileges as well as the most expensive to train someone to achieve and maintain the relevant standards for.”

I nodded, intrigued. I didn't blame myself for not looking into it, but I might have to. Either this was an aspect of the world I'd landed in or a bit of worldbuilding that had never been featured in 'canon.'

Endeavor cleared his throat and leaned forward, a more intense look in his eyes driving the explanation he was giving home. “There are various forms of restricted licenses for combat heroics that aren't germane to the matter at hand given that it's vanishingly rare to see them issued to minors, but the reason why I bring them up is that they're exclusionary by their nature. In effect, when one possesses a combat license they are barred from legitimately handling evidence or bearing witness in a trial as expert testimony outside of their specialization.”

Instincts that were newly-mine jumped three steps ahead and I saw where this conversation was going.

“That would imply,” I stated slowly, speaking into the pause the Flame Hero had left, “the presence of the opposite. One or more types of licenses which are reserved for expert witnesses specifically in non-combat roles.”

This time I paused, driving home my own assertion.

“Translators, for instance.”

Endeavor smiled and nodded, leaning back. “It's good to see that you already understand where I'm going with this. There's a bundle of various licenses called 'Rear-Echelon Heroics Licenses' and they come in restricted and unrestricted forms as well. Given that you would be barred from combat were you to acquire one, the age-restriction isn't a formal requirement but rather a strong convention within the hero industry that requires significant influence to override.”

“Influence you could provide,” I inferred, because that much was obvious. If Endeavor, the Number Two Hero, couldn't do it, then there was little point in the allowance being even theoretical.

“Influence I could provide,” Endeavor echoed. “As long as you have parental permission and are, yourself, willing and able to pass the required examinations.”

Huh, so this is really happening, isn't it?

“I'd need to talk this over with my father and consider the matter myself before I could provide you with an answer,” I temporized.

Endeavor and Hot Ice exchanged a short approving look before the former replied. “That's a reasonable response and, of course, I'd want you to spend the remainder of your time here as an intern training to take the exam.”

Fuyumi cleared her throat. “There's also, well... we'd be making an investment in providing the training, paying for your examination and licensure fees, as well as providing you coverage while you're 'on the job' even in what limited capacity you would be acting. Given your age, the latter would be especially expensive.”

You know, the fact that they aren't doing this entirely altruistically actually makes me feel better about it? That probably doesn't say good things about my faith in humanity.

Endeavor shifted uncomfortably and coughed into a fist. “That is... the reason you're being offered this opportunity is, principally, so that your testimony in court would bear more weight and credibility against the individuals who committed the crime and allow the victims to have a voice in the proceedings with you as their translator. While it would be acceptable to use you as a freelance young hero, the optics at play if you were employed by my agency in some way...”

I hummed and finished his thought. “Would allow you to use my credentials in conjunction with your reputation to push for harsher punishments against the criminals involved, some of whom may escape justice if they are able to discredit any testimony I would give were I not affiliated with you.”

Endeavor sighed heavily and grimaced, but nodded. “It's an unfortunate reality of the line of work you aspire to join, Shinso. I would be remiss if I did not make it clear that our system is not perfect. Oftentimes, it requires a level of finesse to achieve an equitable outcome in the face of those who would use its shortcomings against us.”

I nodded slowly, sighing. “Do you have some documentation that I could look over and present to my father? He's very... detail-oriented when it comes to things like contracts and he'll doubtless want to call in to talk to you or your daughter personally to clarify things. Well, that or your legal department, I suppose.”

Endeavor nodded and, showing that this had been the outcome he'd hoped for, removed a large binder of documents from one of his desk drawers before handing it off to Fuyumi to give to me. “My number is in a card at the front, both the agency's and my personal line, though I'll ask you not to offer it to anyone else beyond your father.”

Handing the rather heavy binder to me, Fuyumi sighed as she looked at her father. “Well, I think we should call it there for today. I'll get Shinso the paperwork for his quirk assessment appointment on the way out, okay Dad?”

“It's been a rather... eventful day, especially with the unplanned raid we put together,” Endeavor chuckled and waved her off. “Let me finish these last few pieces of paperwork and I'll meet you downstairs in the rear lobby, Fuyumi. We can at least drop young Shinso off at the nearest station given how late we've kept him.”

In a thoughtful daze, I rose from my chair and followed the Flame Hero's daughter out of the room.

Man I'm glad I only need two hours of sleep every night... ah, shit. Fuyumi's probably going to get pissed at me when she finds out that part of my 'quirk,' isn't she?

~~~

So... this was supposed to be a relatively short chapter that dealt with a lot of detailed nuts and bolts stuff I needed to cover to move into the next chapter or two.

Safe to say, the chapter got away from me a little bit.

Also, look forward to a new chapter of The Hand We're Dealt sometime this month. It will be similarly long as the last one given it won the Awesome tier poll. So there's that, too.

Enjoy the chapter and thanks for all the support you give! It really means a lot to me.