Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Quirk Apprehension Test was an interesting opportunity for the students to explore the limits of our quirks. I was also hoping to get a better idea of what the others could do. Given we had been told tomorrow was another test, one pitting us directly against each other in simulated battle; I wanted to start putting together strategies and contingencies.

For myself, I had yet to push this new power beyond the basics. For instance, I had no idea the range my spirits could carry something. Time to find out.

I grabbed the ball with as many poltergeists as I could, then with a forceful but unnecessary wave of my arm, sent them accelerating across the sky. With a crack like a gunshot the ball raced away. I strained to maintain the connection to the spirits, to keep them moving upwards at forty-five degrees. I was hoping to hit escape velocity.

The strain was short lived. I lost contact with my ghostly minions in less than a second. As the ball continued to arc upwards, it started flaming. It got a few seconds of hang time before eventually coming down, leaving a faint trail of smoke. Kan-sensei checked the telemetry on his tablet. The ball had traveled 3681.7m.

I checked the math later, with some help from my computer, and found that I could push with around 620 newtons of force. Given that and the mass of the ball – 149g, I calculated its acceleration. I had applied a constant acceleration for the time I had sustained contact. I was able to estimate that length of time based on the change in ballistic behavior in the telemetry record.

Given all that, I figured I had been able to maintain control of the poltergeists for an estimated distance of 100m – but had still gotten it up to a speed so ridiculous I did not trust my math. While I could only pick up objects within ten meters of my body, a 100m control range gave me a lot of tactical options. I would make a hell of a sniper.

Next was the 50m Dash. I used the skating method I had practiced and came in at 4.84 seconds. There were a lot of methods of locomotion on display, though several in the class did not have quirks that lent themselves to this type of race – Awase's Weld and Kosei' Solid Air being two examples. My favorite was the sheer exuberance Shishida in full beast-mode. He was fast, and he looked like he was having a blast cutting loose.

In the Standing Long Jump, I realized I could use my spirits to boost my initial jump, then fly me, slowly adding to the velocity the jump achieved. I flew well past the field then hovered until Kan-sensei told me to come down. Pony did something very similar, riding on her horns – which she could shoot from her head and control telekinetically.

I noticed Monoma, the Trump, trying to brush against me before his turn. I pushed him away with the spirits between us. I had no desire to find out his reaction to my quirk.

I believed the people at the school assumed my quirk was standard telekinesis, capable of controlling multiple targets simultaneously, but with limited range. They imagined the spirit talk was just for flavor – a branding device to distinguish me from other telekinetics.

Monoma would quickly see that was not the case. While it would probably be funny, I decided this was not the time or place to deal with his reaction.

For the Repeated Side Steps, I set the poltergeists on either side of the small space, ready to push me back and forth between them. I noticed they were a little slow to respond to my orders. When Mr. Kan called the start, I began throwing myself between them using their force to enhance my speed. After twenty seconds, the spirits vanished. I found myself careening sideways uncontrollably. After stumbling several steps, I caught my balance.

"Next," Kan-sensei called. Then he motioned me over. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Suddenly my quirk was gone."

"Can you access it now?"

I reached for the spirits, only to find nothing there.

Emily, what's going on?

I can sense the Fuyūrei, but only faintly. I have not experienced this before.

"No, nothing." I said aloud.

"I would suggest you may have a limit to the amount of time or effort you can use your quirk before exhausting it. This is not uncommon. You can rest until we move to the gymnasium for the next events. If you are limited like this, you'll need to test your stamina and the duration of rest needed to recover."

"Yes, sensei."

Sure enough, once we moved to the gym, I was able to gather another swarm. I felt no different. Which made me wonder if I was the one who was exhausted or if it was the spirits. I'd have to test it. If I was right, these were different spirits that had yet to be expended.

The next test was grip strength. It was easy enough to more than double my natural score for a total of 102kg. Tetsutetsu topped the class by changing into his metal state and pulling 831kg. Kendo might have topped him, but by the time her hand got big enough to match his strength, it was too big to fit in the grip device.

I was disappointed I couldn't think of a way to have my spirits help in the Seated Toe-Touch that didn't risk them tearing ligaments or straining my back. I was the limiting factor, not them. On the other hand, watching Kendo relaxing with her back against the wall while her fingers were half a foot past her toes was hilarious.

During the sit-ups I followed the big-handed girl's earlier performance, and relaxed while the poltergeists folded me repeatedly at speed.

Finally came the Distance Run. Kuroiro, a boy with jet black skin and white hair, was the most interesting to watch. Anytime there was a shaded area, he was able to merge with it and travel through the shadow at ridiculous speeds. When there was a black-topped driveway, he did the same. The rest of the time, he jogged along. It was an impressive, if limited, Mover power. I think he'd be significantly more effective at night or in certain other circumstances.

I used a combination of skating, bouncing, and flying to make good speed. I was proving to be a generalist – flexible and capable – but not the top in any field.

Except the ball throw. I'd heard that a girl in 1-A had scored infinity. I couldn't top that, but I had the longest throw in my class.

I'd learned a few things during the tests. Useful things and things that required more investigation. I'd also gotten to know the capabilities of my classmates better.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a morning.

At lunch, I automatically found myself carrying my tray to an empty table. A few seconds later Shoda sat across from me. He offered a shy smile but said nothing. A girl I'd seen on the bus sat next to him. She also said nothing but nodded at the chubby boy. We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Then came Kosei. "Hey Yanagi-chan. That was an expletive of a throw."

Emily? I inquired.

Profanity is the sign of a weak mind. And it pollutes my harmony. Therefore, I shall refuse to translate such vulgarities.

"Yo, Yanagi! You're just going to ignore me?" Kosei barked.

"Sorry. Not ignoring you. Just thinking."

"Sure," He looked dubious but decided to continue with what interested him. "Like I said – that was an expletive of a throw. How'd you do it?"

"Constant acceleration, for a while at least." I replied.

"Sounded like an expletive cannon – BOOM!" The last needed no translation and was loud enough to draw attention from around the cafeteria.

"Remember your indoor voice," I said. Emily was not familiar with the idiom, so I had no idea how it translated.

"What?" Not well I guessed.

"Don't speak so loud indoors. I can hear you just fine." I looked to the other two at the table. They were avoiding my gaze, looking at their trays. I was getting the impression they were shy.

"Did you see how I used my quirk to walk on air across the long jump pit? It wasn't quite as flashy as you and the American, but I was up almost as long." Kosei was getting excited as he recalled his triumph. "I did well in the side steps too. What happened to you? You were like – whaahh!" He mimed stumbling around and falling over.

"Power glitch," I said. Kosei was reminding me of some of the guys at Winslow I would see seeking to impress other people by being loud and attempting to be funny. He was the sort of self-occupied high school …

I am in high school. Emily cut in. She sounded hurt. The same age as him, possibly younger. Do you find my presence as frustrating? Do you only tolerate my company because I allow you to communicate?

You know that's not the case. Come on, you can't tell me you don't find him a little bothersome.

Loud, rude, and narcissistic? She asked. Well, perhaps.

Don't let your insecurities make you crazy. In point of fact, I find myself most indubitably delighted with your company. I teased her gently.

Were you attempting an impression of me? She sounded shocked.

Maybe.

"What a space case," Kosei muttered angrily. Grabbing his tray, he left to find another table.

"Was it something I said?" I quietly asked the others.

"Something you didn't say, maybe?" the girl replied. She maintained her flat affect as she concentrated on me. "Are you alright? You were staring at nothing for a little while."

"I'm fine," I said. "Sometimes I just get lost in my head."

"Is that recent behavior?" Shoda asked. "Since the head injury?"

"Maybe some. I think more of it is related to the nature of my quirk. It can be distracting."

"There's a sensory element to it?" asked the girl.

"Sort of," I replied, not wanting to give details. "Hi. I'm Yanagi Reiko."

"I'm Kodai Yui." He had medium length brown hair and a pretty – though expressionless – face. "I read about your fight … well, the attack on you at the cutlet house. That must have been scary. A real villain."

"I'm not sure I would say scary," I said slowly.

"You don't have to talk about it of course." She stated. "I'm sorry to bring up uncomfortable memories."

I gave her a slight smile. "Thank you. I got the impression your quirk only works on objects, right?"

"That's right," she agreed.

"I thought so," I continued. "Given that, I don't think today's tests gave an accurate measure of your quirk."

"No. The lack of items – except the ball and the grip meter – meant there was a real limit to how much I could use it." Kodai agreed.

"Tomorrow's test will probably allow us to try different things in a different type of activity," Shoda offered in support.

I thought he was likely right.

Kodai nodded in acknowledgement.

We spent the rest of the meal in silence.

It was nice.

That afternoon we had short versions of half our academic classes, introducing the teachers, structure, and basic content. At the end of the condensed day, Kan-sensei reminded us to rest up for tomorrow's trials.

There were still reporters outside the gate. Several of them called out to me. I just waved them off and kept my head down. I did not want to play up my part of the story. With police and Pro Heroes heading to the valley, I hoped the story would move away from me.

Kodai had beaten me to the bus stop. She offered a blank nod. I nodded in return.

"I thought I'd seen you on the bus before," I said quietly.

"Yes. I live near the Kami-kitazawa Station, but it is better to take the bus than the train."

"I am a few stops after that, I think. I'm still learning the area."

I had just told her that I lived in Mosuaizuri, but that I had not grown up there. This kind of veiled speech was often familiar to people who were ashamed of the poor neighborhood in which they lived – though the place names were different in Brockton Bay. I hoped to stop any concerns she might get that I was one of the gangbangers that infested my current neighborhood.

"Ah."

I expected her to ask where I moved from but we both knew she had heard about it in the media. I could ask about her if I wanted the conversation to continue. I got the impression she was a naturally quiet girl. I could understand that.

"Are you from this area or did you come for school?" I began.

"My family lives in Shimane Prefecture, in a town outside of Matsue. But my uncle lives here, so I am staying with his family."

"That's nice. I don't know anyone in Tokyo outside of school. Do you have any cousins living here too?"

"Yes, Daisuke-kun is at Roka High and Emiko-chan is Roka Junior High."

"I have two little sisters back home, twins – Mieko-chan and Miyoko-chan. They're twelve."

"I have three brothers, though I'm the oldest. It's nice having a girl cousin who's younger than I am, and a boy cousin who's older. It makes a nice difference from home."

"I always imagine an older brother teasing me, which I wouldn't like. But, also protecting me, which might be nice sometimes." I said.

"Dai-kun sometimes jokes that because I'm the hero, I have to protect him."

I laughed quietly at her shy joke. After that we were silent – each reading on our phones. She got off several stops before me. It seemed like a nice enough area. There was a pleasant little park near the bus stop.

As the bus continued into Mosuaizuri the scenery changed. At first, it was subtle – the buildings were more worn and there were fewer trees or green spaces. Then the graffiti and trash became more obvious. As we neared my stop, every third building seemed to be visibly damaged or outright abandoned. Shops had bars on the windows, sometimes on the doors as well. The people on the street were more likely to be loitering in groups, smoking and drinking, rather than walking briskly. No one was strolling leisurely. Trash and weeds were everywhere. Even in the daylight, it was not an attractive neighborhood.

As I exited the bus, I saw Meathead, though shrunk to a mere seven feet in height, accosting – or perhaps being accosted by – a well-dressed man with a camera. Emily decided to translate their conversation.

"Habit Headgear …" the reporter, my assumption because it took a special kind of something – not sure what to call the mix of bravery, obliviousness, and stupidity – to try to interview a known villain.

"Don't call me that!" the giant ranted. "It's such a stupid name. If I ever find out who stuck me with it, I am going to ram their expletive head so far up their expletive that they'll be a series of anatomically unlikely expletives. Call me Meathead!"

I giggled at Emily's censorship and commentary.

"I'm sorry, Meathead-san." The reporter bowed. "I was wondering if I could get your opinion on …"

"Not going to happen," the Meathead interrupted, poking the journalist in the chest with a large finger. "No one's going to talk to your kind around here. Not if they know what's good for them. We don't like reporters and we really don't like informers. Get it?" He poked him again, driving him back a step.

"But I just …"

Before the idiot could dig himself any deeper, a scruffy blond man with a prominent zipper scar down the center of his forehead stumbled between the reporter and the villain. The man was muttering something, to himself apparently, as he was oblivious of them both.

Something is seriously amiss with that man. Emily observed.

She ignored the continuing argument. I was concerned the reporter was about to get attacked. As he was probably in the area asking about me, I felt some responsibility.

Taylor, please follow that man. She indicated the scared blonde. I think his soul is fractured, though I cannot imagine how such a thing could have come to pass. The consequences of such a state would be … most unpleasant to the poor creature.

I had to remind myself that I wasn't here to save everyone. The reporter had made his choices. He could probably survive the consequences. This was one of the only things Emily had ever asked me to do. It was still her body. If she wanted to follow Mr. Mumbles, that's what we'd do.

Thank you.

As we closed behind the man, Emily started translating his mutterings.

"Be quiet … Shut up!" He would occasionally put a hand to his head. "Damn it. You shut up."

As he passed a porn shop, his face jerked towards it. "I want to go in! … No, I don't. Don't go saying whatever you want!"

He stopped into an alley and slammed his back against the wall, both hands clutching his hair. "Damn it, I'm … me …"

That's when he noticed me. He turned towards me, his hands ready by his sides. "What do you want?"

"Are you ok?"

"I'm … split. I need to be just one."

His soul is split and there are pieces missing. I cannot imagine how such a thing might happen. He must suffer constant agonies.

You've never seen anything like it? Maybe in your studies at the temple?

No. Never. Perhaps my father might know. He might even be able to help repair the soul. While not the same as laying a dying soul to rest, perhaps the same rituals might provide some relief to this man.

"You're not alone either, are you?" The man inquired. He was looking at me more closely, interest plain on his face. "I can see you arguing with yourself."

"You have multiple voices in your head?" It slipped out. I had wondered if I was unique even in this strange world.

"Crazy like me … Be quiet!"

"Ok …" I wasn't sure how to proceed. "Um … if you are interested. I might know someone who can help you."

"Help me get along with the mes? Or help me get rid of them?"

"I'm … not sure. But he … they may be able to do something to make it better."

"I know how to make it better!" He pulled a mask out of his pocket. "No! … Yes! I just have to wrap it up!" He desperately pulled the cowl on. It was grey and dark blue and hid his whole head. "Once I'm wrapped up, I become one."

I stepped back; making sure my swarm was held tight around me.

"I am always looking for people who are crazy like me," he said. His voice sounded different. More solid. "I'm looking for a group that will accept us as we are. Giran says there is one. But I haven't met them yet."

Wasn't Giran one of the mastermind villains that Nightwing mentioned? I asked. Japanese names were still difficult for me to remember.

I believe you are correct in your recollection. Does that mean this broken man is a villain, or that the dastardly scoundrel is preparing to take advantage of this shattered soul's pitiable circumstances?

"Your voice is quiet, I think." The masked man said. "You're more at peace with each other. It must be nice ... Doesn't sound nice to me. Sounds boring." The second voice was easy to differentiate. Not only did it offer an opposing opinion, but its tone and cadence also changed.

"I don't think your wrapping is doing its job." I muttered.

"Sure it is. … You may be right, but it is enough for now."

He touched the piece of cloth and it duplicated.

"Want to see if it works for you too? … Stop that!" he offered the newly produced mask, and then pulled it back.

"No thank you." I said. "I think I need to find my own way."

"Very well … You snooze, you lose!"

As I started to back away, a card appeared above me and fluttered down in front of my face. "Call if you change your mind … Or don't. Really, don't."

I got out of there.

You realize he's kinda right. I considered. From the outside, I bet we look like we have a fractured soul too. We talked as we walked, though I made sure I wasn't mumbling. I also had my swarm out in three rings feeling for threats or tails.

Are you suggesting that one or more spirits may be possessing the poor man? That I am sensing it or them in addition to his original soul. I have seen my family channeling spirits before. This seems entirely different. However, I have not observed a true possession. You may have a point.

I don't like that a mastermind seems to be trying to recruit him. That duplication quirk could be pretty valuable.

Perhaps we could offer him a more palatable alternative?

I don't know that we're in any position to offer anyone anything. I cautioned.

Surely, we cannot just leave him to fall into evil.

He may be there already.

Are you telling me that heroes only help good people? Her words stung.

I hate it when you're right.