Mind Games - Chapter 8

“You look better,” I commented, clapping Kirishima on the back, the gesture making him miss a step and stiffen awkwardly.

“Ah... you think so?” Eijiro asked, visibly looking himself over as we walked along the park, his school clothes probably seeming the same as they ever were. “I've been... uh, working out? A little?”

“Nah, that's not it.” I released a short airy breath between my lips, the noise a negative hiss as I shook my head. Kirishima frowned, almost pouted, and his shoulders slumped slightly, even then though... “It's your energy. How you carry yourself.”

The other teen straightened again as he perked back up, his eyes surprised. “Huh, really?”

“Hmm... it's the difference between someone just being carried along and someone choosing a path for themselves.” I nodded at him thoughtfully, feeling as though I likely already knew the reason for the change. “You feel like you're going somewhere.”

Kirishima stared at me with wide red eyes as he swept his messy curtain of still-black hair away from his face and smiled a shark-tooth grin. “Dude, you say the coolest shit. So goddamn manly!”

My lips twitched as I flexed and popped my spine. “Thanks, hey-”

I raised a finger, pointing at a shop near the edge of the park we were walking through. “I want a smoothie. You want a smoothie? My treat.”

He blinked, then shrugged. “Sure, Man. You don't gotta, but thanks!”

“I don't gotta, but I wanna,” I grinned slyly back at him, clapping him on the shoulder again regardless of the Japanese issues with personal space. “That's what it's all about.”

Kirishima clenched a raised fist as his lips pressed together and he sniffled. “That is fire, Dude! How do you do that? I checked your herotube account out and people are making, like... compilation videos of your best lines. I even got one set up on repeat when I'm pumpin' iron-erg...”

He verbally stumbled as I looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, my lip still slightly quirked up to take the sting out of it.

“Too much?” He asked, his cheeks flushing slightly.

I slipped a hand out of my heavy coat pocket as I crunched through the snow towards the smoothie shop. Raising it up, I brought my thumb and pointer finger close to each other, but not quite touching. “Just a bit, but you're cool.”

Eijiro heaved a gusty sigh of relief and took a few quick steps to catch up with me. “Ah-yeah, thanks. Anyway, about your channel...”

“That what you wanted to talk about?” I asked, taking in the hesitation in his body language, the flow of his confidence stuttering.

Keeping the small smile I was wearing up, I quietly marveled at the other teen. It was... surprising, just how much genuine good there was in him. Maybe it shouldn't have. A fleeting thought reminded me of that second-year... no, he'd be a first-year right now. The way he worshiped the ground Mirio walked on, calling himself 'Suneater.' Kirishima wasn't there yet, but I could see the flame building already in each step he took and each grin he exchanged.

“Yeah, uh... ergh...” Kirishima sighed, looking off to the side suddenly.

“Think. Breathe. Speak.” I advised him, turning to the service window on the side of the building. The employee gave me an odd look when I asked for a smoothie given the fresh snow on the ground, but I would not be deterred by temptations of hot chocolate. I was in a smoothie mood, damn the cold. Thankfully, though, it was still the first real powder of the season, so it wasn't too bad.

Soon enough, we had our drinks and the taste of oranges was on my tongue as I watched Eijiro out of the corner of my eye. Taking a deep breath, he bent ten or so degrees in a bow as he spoke. “Can you train me?!”

I took my time answering, drawing another gulp through the straw and swallowing before turning my head to look at him fully. He'd tilted his head back up from the bow, his expression awkwardly hopeful. “Sure,” I shrugged, then took another pull from my smoothie.

Mmm... yeah, that's the good shit. I could do better, but this is still pretty damn good.

“You mean it?” Kirishima asked, his smile widening like the rising sun on the horizon. “Thank you so much, man! You won't regret it!”

“I won't, no.” I nodded, still looking at him with a small smile.

Eijiro blinked at the rock-hard certainty in my voice, blushed, and hunched into himself a bit even as his smile refused to fade. “Heh... ah, yeah... and, um... I don't mean all the time or anything. Just... to get me started. You seem to know what you're doing and everything.”

I smacked my lips, nodding. “You can say when you want to stop. If you don't say stop, we'll just keep going until the test. If you get to the point where you think you can handle it on your own and want to, let me know and we'll work something else out. Cool?”

Kirishima grinned again, bobbing his head rapidly. “Cool! That works great. So... do we start today, or...”

I looked him over and snorted. “Not today, but it would help to sort some things out.”

“Yeah?” He asked, sipping his own drink curiously.

“You mentioned the channel,” I opened with. “Was that just a segue or did you wanna' join?”

The other boy choked suddenly, cleared his throat violently before taking a deep breath through his nose and coughing more sedately. It took a minute for him to answer me properly under those conditions. “Ah... I mean me? On a stream... I don't know man, think I got what it takes?”

“Yes, I do.” I answered bluntly, making him blush again under my dispassionate gaze. “There are a couple of reasons to think about it. The first is that, if you're legitimately trying to become a hero, a little experience being on-camera isn't a bad thing. Heroes sit for interviews, have their performances during fights filmed, and often go in for things like commercials or promotional ads.”

Kirishima's gaze turned thoughtful as he drew more of his smoothie through the straw. “When you put it like that...”

“The other reasons I have for offering are a bit selfish,” I warned him. “There's some exercises and martial arts stuff that would be really useful to have a partner on-screen to go through with. So you'd be helping me out if you agreed. But only if it's what you're comfortable with. I can always-”

“I'm down for it.”

I turned to regard Eijiro more fully, looking him over again. My eyes, so very changed from the previous week, saw him in ways it was hard for me to really describe. The sheer weight of experience emanating from my sidereal self told me volumes about the young man before me. Kirishima's righteous enthusiasm waned slightly under my intense gaze, then firmed again. One might even say it... hardened.

Not me, of course.

But someone else, maybe.

“Alright.” I nodded, taking him at his word. He was the kind of person who meant what he said and said what he meant, after all. “I've got two streams planned for the weekend, so I'm busy until next week. I'll send you some stuff you can look over, we'll meet up... say, Wednesday?”

Kirishima's head bobbed jerkily.

“And we'll talk things out then. I do have a few big things to hash out first, though,” I stated.

“Lay it on me,” the other teen challenged.

I paused, cocking my head for a moment as I took another long pull from the cold orange-flavored semi-liquid in my cup. “Most important thing first. You strike me as the type of person who would, in a moment of passionate bonding with homoerotic subtext, loudly exclaim strong feelings of devotion for another person you were working out with.”

Kirishima jerked back, his jaw dropping slightly as his face flushed and his eyes widened. “Bwuh?”

“Am I correct in that assertion?” I pressed, my eyes narrow and my smile gone.

Eijiro blinked rapidly, his train of thought clearly restarting itself from zero. “Ah... what? I mean, like... Dude, what the hell?”

I reached up with my free hand and pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes briefly. “Say... we were fighting, or sparring. Your blood got pumping. You were in the zone-”

Kirishima nodded slowly, looking vaguely thoughtful.

“-then, suddenly, you pull off something you've been trying to do for a week. Some grapple or hold or throw. And, in a moment of elation, you exclaim something akin to, 'I'm really doin it! Holy shit, I'm gonna be a hero! I love ya, bro!'”

Kirishima's mouth opened, then slowly closed with a puzzled expression on his face as he considered my hypothetical scenario. “Uhh... yeah? I guess that could happen? I mean, I kinda hope that happens, now that you mention it? That sounds pretty cool... like, something out of a shounen anime or something where the main character learns a new super move. Very manly.”

“I'm going to have to ask you not to do that part,” I stated bluntly.

“Huh?” Kirishima shook himself from his wish-fulfillment fantasy.

“Very important 'Rule Zero' type stuff,” I elaborated, my voice still deadpan as I stared at him. “You can be excited, you can run around and scream like a twelve year old on a sugar high, you can even punch a tree or do a somersault. Just please do not say 'I love you,' or any variation thereof. A statement of authentic and significant devotion behind it or similar.”

“Uhh... I mean, okay? I guess. If it really bothers you.” Kirishima squinted at me oddly. “Can I... ask why? Is this like... some kind of emotional trauma stuff?”

I clicked my tongue and decided I couldn't be assed to make up an elaborate lie or reveal actual emotional trauma for the sake of masking my request. “So I basically have this job from the Celestial Bureaucracy-”

I pointed towards the sky with the thumb of my free hand casually.

Kirishima blinked, his face going blank.

“-I'm a Chosen of the Maiden of Venus. It's this whole...” I waved my hand in a vague circle. “...thing. Complicated, big, lots of work. But, basically, my patron covers emotional ties and, if someone declares that they love me with sincere feeling behind it, the powers I've been imbued with will consider that a binding marriage proposal, no take-backs, and divorce isn't a thing.”

For the second time in the last five minutes, Kirishima seemed utterly stunned and at a loss for a reply.

I slurped more smoothie, waiting for a response.

If this broke things off with the other teen, so be it. It would be better to drive him away right now with a preview of the weirdness that would be my life in the months and years to come. If not for the fact that he already seemed thoroughly committed to joining the ranks of the heroes, I'd be worried about befriending him at all. Not out of some wrong-headed sense of martyrdom, but simply because the scope and scale of the madness that I was very likely going to have to deal with would routinely rattle any friendship, create emotional strain on both our parts, and slowly generate more and more obligations and lies to maintain.

The first rule for the aspiring hero's social life was to be mindful of the Parable of Peter Parker's Social Life.

Much like Romeo and Juliet was a cautionary tale rather than a romantic epic and constantly swooned over by teenage girls, no one should seek to emulate the absolute dumpster fire that was Spider-Man's interpersonal relationship.

In short? Don't actively drive people away, but be honest and upfront about what they're going to be getting into. That way, if they get pissed off, it's their fault for not believing you and you can walk away with a clean conscience.

“I mean, I guess we are in middle school, but I didn't take you for...” Kirishima finally spoke up awkwardly, clearly eyeing me in a new light.

“I am being very serious and completely honest-” For the most part, anyway. “-even if you don't believe me, understand that I believe that I'm trying to seriously warn you about a very real danger and that it is important to me that you at least take my concerns under consideration. I do not care if you think I'm being chunni right now, just listen to me, please.”

Kirishima pursed his lips and held up his hands, pointer fingers extended. “So... I'm not saying I do believe you, but... like, what if two people say that they love you? Does it still-”

“Yes.” I replied, my voice dead. “Or three. Or four, etc... The Maiden of Venus is all about personal connections. She's just never been human so it doesn't occur to her how complicated this could make your average person's life.”

Which, again, was mostly true. Creation Gods and Goddesses had never been human. I sincerely doubted the upper management of The Company had ever been either. And both did some pretty fucked up shit on the regular. Calling a sparrow a pigeon didn't change much if it was still going to shit on your windshield and ruin your day.

“Huh, alright.” Kirishima paused for another moment sipping his smoothie, then nodded. “You're right. Even if I don't think what you're talking about is real, it would be super un-manly to do something that really bothered you. I mean, it's weird, but...”

He shrugged.

I sighed, sweeping a hand up my forehead and through my hair. “Consider yourself warned. Next thing-”

Kirishima tensed, expecting another bomb to drop.

“-is your hero name.” The tension released from his body so suddenly and absolutely that the other teenager almost face-faulted.

Eat your heart out, Aizawa.

“H-hero name? I thought we were just training?” Kirishima asked, gathering himself as he shook his head to clear it.

I waggled a hand in front of me. “We are, but if you show your face on camera, you're going to have whatever name you use attached to you for the rest of your life. So sayeth the almighty kami of the internet, who never forget and never forgive.”

Eijiro took a breath, his red eyes gleaming with deep understanding. “Right, good point.”

“So option one is to gear up like I do and call yourself something disposable that you can drop whenever you get to UA – or whatever hero school you're trying for – and pick out something more permanent,” I elaborated, drawing on my smoothie again and getting mostly air, forcing me to hunt for the unevenly deposited lumps at the bottom of the cup.

“You're not going to keep using Bootstrap? I thought it was pretty cool.” Kirishima paused. “So what's option two?”

“Bootstrap is growing on me,” I replied with a shrug. “So I might keep it, but I might not. The way I'm doing things means I have time to think about it. The second way is that you come up with a legit hero name that you plan to keep either forever or until you go through rebranding at some point later on.”

“Ah...” Kirishima hesitated, drawing on the last of his own smoothie. “Let's go with the first one? I mean, I think I might know what I want my hero name to be, but I'd rather wait until I know I'm accepted to a hero school and, yeah, first choice is UA like you.”

“Spankin,” I commented idly, dropping my empty cup and tapping the falling cup with the tip of my shoe to send it flying ten feet into the nearest trash can.

Kirishima's eyes widened at the feat of casual excellence, double-taking between me and the trash can. “Dude... so cool.”

“So, next big thing is to talk about quirks,” I began, scratching at my chin.

...

“Hey Demons. It's me, ya boi Bootstrap.”

The figure on the screen was wearing a casual tracksuit, a hat made of thin material that pulled his hair down, pressing it against his skull, and a face mask with a stylized boot print on it. All around him was a field of fresh snow save for a small tarp that held some bags and large thermoses.

“Alright, I hope you all enjoyed the longbow practice this past weekend. As with everything up to this point, I managed to avoid permanent injury while sustaining several slightly-humiliating and self-inflicted ones. Blooper reel is available for paid subscribers, as always.”

The young man clapped his hands. “But that's yesterday's news. Or, well... last weekend's. What's important now is that you all get your fill of monetized suffering. Fortunately, I have a new chump-er, I mean... volunteer to introduce you to. Everyone, I'd like you to meet Buster.”

Holding his arms out to one side, another young man dressed in a sweatshirt, sweat pants, and a balaclava with a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. The only thing that stopped him from looking like a traditional ninja cosplayer was the bright reflective overshirt that made him look like he was about to direct traffic.

The girls watching giggled at his stiff and robotic movements.

“A-ah! Hey, I'm... uh, Buster.” The figure waved stiffly before bowing. “This is my first time on Herotube like this, so...”

Bootstrap put his hands on his hips and ducked his head in an exaggerated sigh as he shook his head. “Dude, don't worry so much. Remember why you're here and just let it flow.”

Buster seemed to take a deep breath and straighten, leaving him a more imposing figure than he previously had been. “Okay. Yeah. I'm here to get beaten up so I can learn some martial arts!”

There was another set of girlish giggles at the dorky thumbs up the young man gave to the screen.

After a moment holding the pose, Buster turned towards Bootstrap. “Was that better?”

“Eh, like I said, don't worry about it. The people in the comments section will make fun of you either way.”

Buster drooped slightly. “Right... internet. That checks.”

Bootstrap appeared to take pity on the other man, walking up and slapping a hand on his shoulder. “So, what Buster is going to help me demonstrate today are a few doubles-exercises that you and the random homeless person you've paid to pretend to be your friend can do together. These are a bit more intensive than solo exercises, so pace yourself appropriately. As always, remember that I am not a certified physical trainer nor do I have any sort of degree in the field of fitness. My standard advice also applies; if you don't feel safe imitating me, don't. If you do try some of the stuff I do on the channel and feel any sort of pain that makes you concerned, STOP and seek medical help.”

“And after that, the martial arts, right?” Buster asked, bouncing with energy.

“And after that, we move through a series of self-defense holds, blocks, and beginner-level moves that will let you break contact with your attacker. The information in the latter half of this video is meant to allow you to better escape a hostile individual and run for help, not to try and turn yourself into some type of martial arts prodigy who can go toe-to-toe with villains.” Bootstrap folded his arms and glared at the screen. “Everything I said before goes double for this. If you're interested in things like this, I encourage you to seek out a self-defense group near you. I've scraped some contact information from a few organizations and have them down below.”

“But... uh, if they're supposed to do this kind of stuff at home... why are we showing them how to do it here on the channel?” Buster asked awkwardly, in what was pretty obviously a scripted question.

“I'm glad you asked, Buster! Our job is mainly to drum up interest in physical fitness, beginner self-defense, and remind people that their first duty in any crisis situation is to themselves and their own safety, in particular removing themselves from immediate danger.”

As Bootstrap finished, Buster reached back to scratch his head. “Ah... that makes sense.”

“And, of course, to provide entertainment.”

Buster paused, cocking his head. “Uhh... what do you mean entertainment?”

“I think that's something you'll understand as we get into things,” Bootstrap chuckled ominously.

(Left to Right: Michiko, Himiko, Arupaka, Hina, Ami)

Himiko used Michiko's giggle as her friends once again spiraled into amusement around her as they watched the boy she was supposed to be meeting in a few days for dinner and a movie. It was, in other words, a date. Aru, Ami, and Hina had all been on romantic encounters with boys. Well, Ami-chan liked girls, so she dated girls. But that was fine.

What wasn't fine was the apparent need for Himiko herself to go on a 'date' of her own.

Himiko did not enjoy dating, at all.

Hina's smile got a lot of use when she was forced by her friends to accept an invitation from some boy or girl to spend the day with them. The shy girl's expressions most suited a timid and unresponsive romantic encounter. That usually worked to put off a second awkward afternoon indefinitely. Sometimes, though, she had to use Asahina-san's aggressive slouch and irritable attitude to drive off suitors. That could be fun, at least.

And it made the guys who she did it to look crazy when they tried to explain how quiet normal Himiko had started getting angry and cursing like a delinquent gyaru. Ami could usually spin a rumor that the guy had pressed her for... whatever was apparently supposed to come after dates that her friends always blushed and giggled about or acted out scandalous fantasies.

She didn't really care about that, though.

Which was probably a product of how easy it was to drive each and every brief 'boyfriend' she had away. All it took was listening to someone for five minutes to learn what they didn't like and subtly inject those traits into her mannerisms.

Perhaps they hated garlic? Well, Himiko just so happened to have Italian food as her favorite that day. Or maybe they preferred quiet dates at cafes talking about hobbies? Hmm... well, it turned out that Toga Himiko's favorite thing in the world was baseball, so they needed to go to the batting cages!

Boys would almost always let her force them into things they didn't enjoy until the date was over. She didn't know why they insisted on sticking around her when they were clearly annoyed, but the faces they made when they thought she wasn't looking were interesting additions to her library of expressions.

Girls were harder. They understood more, apparently, which Himiko thought was odd. But, well, she was a girl-

Without her quirk, at least.

-so who was she to complain? But they made things so awkward when she tried to trick them into thinking the date going bad was their fault. After all, normal girls don't ruin romantic outings on purpose. Or so she was told.

Thankfully, it appeared they'd stopped asking after the last girl had told everyone she was 'faking gay' or whatever. Himiko was plenty happy! Everyone said so when they saw her smile! Even her parents and little sister! As long as they couldn't see her pointy teeth!

Happier still if they loved her.

“Okay, so he's funny, strong, a total hunk, and he has an actual shot at being a hero,” Ami stated, counting off Shinso Hitoshi's traits on her fingers, all eight of them on each hand. It made her a great pianist, Himiko knew. “What's the catch or should I steal him from Himiko?”

Himiko felt Michiko's smile falter and the mask it was affixed to loosen for a split second at the-

-it was a joke, right?

Her gold eyes flashed to read the others, taking in their amusement as well as Ami's casual pose. After another quick moment, she decided that the other girl had been 'kidding' again. Sarcasm. She was still learning that one. It was tricky.

“Ah...” Aru-chan spoke up, twiddling her fingers.

“Uhp, Aru's got something to share,” Hina squealed, then dampened her enthusiasm as Aru looked down at the floor. “Oh, it was... about what happened, wasn't it?”

Himiko schooled her face, an expression she'd taken from Hitori-kun, the class otaku. He was always scared and twitchy, so his unsure worry fit the situation well, she thought. As the other girls looked at her for... something, she supposed their exchanged nods meant she'd passed another test. She was doing amazing! It'd been weeks since one of them gave her that look like they had no idea who she was and she'd had to laugh it off as an 'unfunny' joke.

Please don't be afraid! I'm normal just like you!

Movement caught her eye and she watched Ami reach out to take Aru's hand while Hina took her own. The common response to holding hands with a friend was a smile! But she'd just been using Hitori's worry-scared, so... maybe a bit weaker than normal? Oh, like that time Hina had gotten dumped and they'd gone out for ice cream!

As Hina squeezed her hand with a comforting expression, Himiko felt elated. Another victory!

“He... um, his quirk is kind of scary,” Aru admitted, gripping Ami's hand tightly. “At the end, when this villain came up and tried to get us right before the heroes showed up... It's some type of psychic quirk, I think. He just told him to go to sleep and he did.”

There was a quick exchange of expression between the other girls that Himiko didn't follow or understand. Hitoshi didn't scare her. Nor did his quirk. He didn't act like the other boys at the school, even, who all wanted something from her. Something she still didn't understand, but they wanted it anyway. Hitoshi just...

He's calm. Didn't flinch. Didn't look away.

He certainly wasn't like Daisuke.

The memory of the only boy she'd had to refuse the advances of physically made her pulse quicken with some unnamed need. Still, if she really had misjudged Hitoshi badly, she'd just do what she'd done to Daisuke to him! And no one would believe him! Just like they hadn't with Daisuke! Because Toga Himiko was a normal girl who didn't hurt boys twice her size until they had to crawl away from her crying!

It still made her wonder why Daisuke had made so many funny faces in the halls when their eyes had met, at least until he transferred. He hadn't come near her, after all... so why was his face 'afraid' of her. She didn't want anything to do with him!

Weird.

“He does want to be a hero, though,” Michiko chimed in from her quiet corner of the group, the only one of them who had been using lunch time for its intended purpose by the look of her bento. “That counts for something, right?”

Ami pursed her lips, then turned to Himiko, who stiffened slightly.

This was why she hated dates. Groups were easy to blend into! When one person was looking at you closely, that's when they noticed things!

He didn't care, though. He saw and didn't care.

“Himiko... you should be really careful on your date. Don't go anywhere alone with him, okay?” Ami pressed. “If he really can make people... do things, he might use it on you if there's no one else around.”

AAAAAH! What was the right response?! Hitoshi was supposed to be her date, so should she get angry that Ami was insulting him? Or be afraid? Ami was serious-worried like that one time a villain had attacked near their karaoke place while they were singing. Or-or-or... should she-

Himiko's eyes cut to the others in the group in desperation for the normal thing to say and saw Hina – ooooh!

Timid! Yes, that one! With the stutter!

“I-I promise,” Himiko forced herself to quiver just the slightest bit under Ami's gaze to really sell it, and-

Yes! Test passed.

Ami gave her one more moment of stern evaluation to make sure of something, then sighed and backed off.

“You know... if you're that worried, we could all tag along,” Michiko stated between the last bites of her food, making Himiko blink and look at the time before beginning to rapidly eat her own food. Why did talking and being friends take so long?

“Like... invite him along with us?” Hina asked, perpetually unsure.

“Nah, just follow Himiko and this Shinso guy to make sure he's on the level. Like they do in romcoms!” Michiko grinned.

Himiko's golden eyes widened as she choked on her food, reaching for her new battery-powered thermus to wash it down. Instantly, cold dead crimson fluid hit her mouth like warm, flat soda. It was just... just... nothing like it was supposed to be, but Dr. Garaki had been insistent that she follow her new diet. It... did help, she supposed. She had more energy and slept better, but...

“Then it's settled! We'll all go incognito and follow Himiko to make sure he's not a creep!” Ami nodded at the rest of the group sternly.

Nooooooo! This was the worst thing ever! How was she supposed to pick the right faces for both her friends and her date!?

~~~

So... here's a 5k chapter of Mind Games.

I, uh... I made myself sad writing Himiko.

I think I need to go write about the imminent machine apocalypse now, to cheer myself up. Hope everyone's week is going okay?