Chapter 22: Experiments [2]

The sun beat down directly on the cracked concrete. There was no shade, no pauses, no excuses. Only the echo of dry thuds, shallow breaths, and Shinso's shuffling footsteps on the track.

"Another lap," Reiji ordered quietly. He was standing next to the purple-haired man, but unlike him, he looked much cooler and barely sweaty, only from the heat.

Shinso stopped, panting, his hands on his knees. His shirt was soaked with sweat, and his legs were shaking.

"We've been training for two hours..." He muttered in annoyance. Since he started training with Reiji a few days ago, he had pushed him to the limit, and each day seemed worse than the last.

"Two hours and you're still not bleeding. That's not training. That's warming up." He showed no compassion; he looked at Shinso while gesturing for him to continue.

"Tsk, I don't have super regeneration," he protested, barely able to speak between gasps.

"And thank goodness, this is so little compared to what I used to do..."

Shinso grunted through gritted teeth.

"Stop," he said it pointedly, charging his Quirk, his voice cracking with exhaustion. Reiji, who was walking ahead of him, stopped. For a moment, his footsteps ceased. The silence seemed to outweigh the heat.

Shinso looked up, surprised it had worked.

But Reiji turned his head and looked at him over his shoulder with that half-smile that hurt more than any mockery.

"Was that a real attempt?" he asked, not even bothering to hide his disappointment.

Shinso didn't have time to respond. Reiji was already walking toward him again, steady, with no trace of the control he thought he had exerted. He stopped a meter away, just enough for his shadow to cover him again.

"Your Quirk isn't useless. But it's not extremely strong either. You can't currently hold me back, not even for a few seconds... Let alone a villain, or someone who doesn't act rationally."

Sweat trickled down his chin as he spoke. His voice was firm, cutting.

"But Quirks evolve according to the user's physical, mental, and emotional strength. We start with your body, so that in case your voice fails you, you have something to protect yourself with..."

Shinso clenched his fists, biting his tongue to keep from saying what he was thinking. He knew it. He had felt it. The wall in front of him was more mental than physical, and Reiji had crushed it without even trying.

"Do you want to dominate others?" Reiji leaned slightly toward him, his eyes sharp. "Then learn to dominate yourself. If you don't think you can, your Quirk won't either."

He stood up and turned around.

"Five more laps. Then exercise until I throw up."

Shinso didn't reply. He just started running again, his legs shaking and his breath on fire. But he didn't stop.

From the edge of the track, Reiji watched him for a few more seconds, serious, silent.

'Reality... Sad reality. I always wondered why such a powerful Quirk wasn't recruited directly for cultivation at U.A.... Or by the commission itself. It turns out that what was shown in the anime and manga during the sports festival was just pure filler... He clearly had potential, but he couldn't exert full control, at least not yet.'

He threw a half-frozen water bottle near the rest stop and sat down on a rusty crate, still keeping an eye on him.

He took out his phone and checked the time. He still had to meet with Hawks.

He stood up, stretched his neck with a slight creak, and started walking toward the field's exit.

"Keep going," he said without turning around. "Part of training also depends on your discipline. If you stop, you repeat it tomorrow... from scratch."

Shinso didn't answer, but he heard him.

Reiji disappeared into the trees at the edge of the road, without another word. The echo of the purple-haired man's footsteps, tired but steady, was the only thing left resonating on the hot track.

***

Reiji arrived at a cafe near the training grounds, sweat still drying on the back of his neck and the collar of his T-shirt damp from the heat. Hawks had chosen a table at the back, against the window, away from the noise. He wasn't wearing sunglasses this time, just an uncomfortably fitted cap and the relaxed expression of someone always one step ahead of disaster.

Without saying anything, Reiji sat down opposite him. Hawks had already ordered two glasses of iced tea, one of which he pushed to the center of the table with two fingers.

"For you. No sugar, like those with bitter hearts."

Reiji took the glass and sipped calmly. He didn't say thank you, but he didn't need to. Between them, they understood each other.

"How's the purple apprentice?" Hawks asked, stirring the ice in his own glass. "Is he still not collapsing?"

"He's still standing. That's progress."

"Whew, how sweet. He must feel very loved. Just remember, no one is as crazy as you."

Reiji ignored him. He leaned back in his chair, scanning the place with his eyes. An ordinary cafe. Small tables, the smell of warmed-up bread, a couple of students discussing notes. Nothing out of place. Not even them.

"Well?" he said finally. "I suppose you didn't bring me here just for the chat?"

"What? Can't I buy you some tea without an ulterior motive?"

"You don't do anything without a ulterior motive."

Hawks smiled, amused.

"Touché. Okay, to the point: the Commission doesn't want you to continue with the experiments. There's no new evidence. No victims claiming. No useful bodies, to put it politely. And without that, they're not going to move another brain cell."

Reiji looked down thoughtfully. He'd done as much research as he could, but with every new development on the subject, it always turned out there was nothing more. The memory of his previous life haunted him in ways he didn't want to admit.

He took another long sip of tea.

"So that's it?"

"That's it, for now. If anything new comes up, I'll find out first. But in the meantime... dead topic."

Silence. Then Hawks shrugged.

"Oh, and by the way. Mt. Lady is moving to Musutafu this week. He announced it on a morning show, right before accidentally knocking over a lamppost with his butt."

Reiji raised an eyebrow.

"And I care about that?"

"Me neither. But when heroes with stadium egos change districts, it's usually for a reason. Even if it's the wrong one."

Reiji didn't answer. But his mind did process it.

"Wasn't it when Mt. Lady debuted in Musutafu that the main plot began?" he wondered, clearly not going to ask Hawks.

"Did you know he once tried to kiss me at an awards ceremony?" Hawks continued, smiling as if he hadn't just said anything important. "I was saved by a kamikaze pigeon. Right on camera."

"Sounds like a scene worthy of a cheap anime."

"It was. They paid me with a promotional T-shirt."

Reiji tilted his head, not smiling, but his gaze less tense.

"Maybe he's your soulmate; you two make a great contrast."

"How awful..."

The two shared a moment of relaxed silence. For once, the world seemed far away.

"Well," Reiji said, finishing his tea, "I have something to do."

He stood up calmly, but before he could take a step, Hawks stopped him with a light pat on the arm.

"Hold on right there, serious guy. How about we eat something real for once?"

Reiji raised an eyebrow.

"Haven't you done your quota of stupidity today?"

"No. I'm missing two yakitori and an awkward conversation about personal matters. Come on, don't make me eat alone. It makes me look like a sad guy."

"You're a sad guy."

"Yeah, but no one has to know if you're at the table."

Reiji sighed, resigned.

"Only if you pay."

"I always pay. I'm the responsible adult here, right?"

"That's scary."

***

The sun was just beginning to set when Reiji stopped in front of a neighborhood convenience store. He had just said goodbye to Hawks after an unexpectedly ordinary lunch. What should have felt like rest clung to his body like a false pause, as if the silence of the streets was merely holding back something that didn't want to come out.

He entered the store without much thought. He grabbed a can of iced tea and a loaf of stuffed bread. He walked to the register, unhurried. The cashier, an older man with a face that looked like he'd worked more shifts than he was paid for, barely looked up.

Then the doorbell rang. Two kids walked in with their hoods up, ill-fitting surgical masks, and a tension that could be felt in the air.

Reiji turned his head slightly, just enough to look through the reflection of the freezer. One of them was holding a gun. The other hand was shaking. The other kid was carrying an inflated backpack and had his fingers splayed, as if waiting for something.

"This is a robbery!" the first one shouted, pointing at the cashier. "All the money in one bag, now!"

The man froze. Reiji watched the scene intently. His heart remained calm; he could always react to protect himself from a gunshot.

Real gun. Safety on. Sweaty hands. Cracking voice.

"It's just a couple of kids running around..."

Reiji dropped his things on the counter. He didn't turn around immediately.

"You too, move! Get on the ground!" the second one shouted, taking a step forward.

At that instant, something ignited behind the boy. A blue spark ran down his neck and up his arms. His Quirk. Reiji saw his fingers covered in electricity, faint, uncontrolled, aimless.

"I told you to get on the ground! Or I'll fry you!"

Reiji turned calmly. He took two steps, just enough to stand in front of the man with the gun. The boy swallowed and aimed more firmly.

"Don't force me!"

"Don't force yourself," Reiji said, without raising his voice. "The safety is on."

The robber looked at the gun, hesitated, looked down. He checked it with his fingers... and cursed under his breath.

"Shit..."

"And you," Reiji added, looking at the second. "If you use that shock on someone uncontrollably, all you'll do is give them convulsions... or yourself. That current bounces back. I can tell you from experience."

The boy blinked. The sparks died. He said nothing more.

Silence.

Reiji sighed, like someone watching two children playing with kitchen knives.

"Look. I'm not going to stop you. Or hit you. You're not worth it."

Both teenagers were pale. The one with the gun let Reiji approach and take it away without much effort. The other was barely breathing.

Reiji looked at the gun, then at the boys. He sighed.

"But there are better ways to live. Honestly. Becoming a villain sounds easy. But all it brings is more hunger, more fear, and more headaches than you can imagine."

"And what are we supposed to do?" the one with the backpack snapped, his tone breaking. "Keep waiting while no one helps?"

Reiji met his gaze for the first time. His thoughts instantly revolved around what to do with the pair. That last sentence was clearly a plea for help, but he wasn't anyone yet to give them a chance to turn his life around 180 degrees.

"Then ask for it. Stealing something today doesn't change your life. It only ruins it."

Reiji reached into his pocket. He pulled out a few bills; working for the commission brought a good financial reward, at least enough to cover his needs.

"It's not much. But it's something to start with. Find a stable job and start off on a noble note. It's complicated... But everything is."

He tossed them to him indifferently. They fell into the open backpack.

"I'll never see you again. Not like this, not worse."

The boys didn't answer. They ran out of the store, quickly disappearing.

The cashier let out a long sigh. His hands were still raised.

"Are you... a hero?"

Reiji shook his head as he picked up his drink from the counter and left the gun with the man.

"No. I just got tired of seeing people end up dead because of poorly copied ideas."

He paid silently and left without another word. He was quite sure the man from the store would know what to do with the gun.

The air outside was warm. The sky was turning orange and purple, and the city was beginning to fill with artificial lights.

Reiji walked slowly, as if nothing had happened.

'Villains, heroes, criminals, victims. Everything looks different on paper. But out there, most people just want to stop being invisible. The problem is when they choose to shout the wrong way.'

He took a sip of his drink and disappeared into the crowd.

***

The door lock barely clicked when Reiji entered. After what had happened at the store, he had finally arrived home. He took off his shoes with automatic movements and left his jacket hanging on the coat rack without looking. The house was dim, save for the soft glow of the television in the living room.

As he turned down the hall, he saw her.

Himiko was asleep on the sofa, her legs drawn up and a U.A. textbook open on her chest. Beside her, an empty cup of tea. The remote control balanced precariously on the edge of the cushion.

The screen was showing a pre-recorded interview with Mt. Lady, gesticulating exaggeratedly about "the importance of strengthening the regional heroic presence." The volume was low, almost a whisper.

Reiji stood there, still.

He watched Himiko's face, relaxed, without the usual tension in her eyes or her words. She was breathing calmly. Her blonde hair fell disheveled over the book, but she didn't move.

'When will it be time for her to stop falling asleep so recklessly on the couch?'

A small but bitter smile appeared on their faces.

'If only we had a normal relationship.'

His mind revolved around how she followed him with her eyes every time he arrived, as if she needed confirmation that he still existed. And how close that line between sister and something more walked. A line she never seemed interested in respecting.

He sighed. He approached quietly, turned the television volume down to zero, and took the remote control from the pillow just before it fell.

Himiko seemed to sniff something specific and murmured something in her sleep.

"I love you..."

The voice was barely a thread, disordered, nameless. But Reiji didn't need more to understand who it was directed at.

He didn't respond. He simply covered her with a blanket from the back of the sofa, turned off the dining room light, and left silently.

He went upstairs to his room.

The air was fresh through the half-open window, and everything else was in its place: the notebook on the desk, the pencils lined up, the sheets still on the line. Too much order for a mind that couldn't keep quiet.

He took off his shirt. The day's sweat clung to his skin. He approached the mirror, as he had done out of habit since he noticed the first changes.

His jaw was more angular than it had been last week. Dark circles under his cheekbones marked him in a way that didn't suit a boy his age. The structure and color of his neck, the thickness of the veins under his skin... everything was starting to look too much like what he remembered.

Like what had been.

He touched his face slowly, as if unsure if it belonged to him.

'Why?' Why am I starting to look like him… if I'm not supposed to be him anymore?'

He clenched his fist in suppressed rage. The mirror reflected more than his image: it reflected the frustration of still being chained to something that had died… or should have died.

He turned away abruptly.

He went to the desk, opened his notebook, and flipped through it without reading. On the previous page, the case of the liquid experiment was still crossed out.

He took the pencil and wrote with a tight line:

"The past doesn't change by searching for it. But it doesn't go away because you ignore it, either. I'm closing this. Even though I know it's coming back."

He slammed the notebook shut.

He walked to the window and yanked it shut. He closed the blinds. He turned off the light.

But even in the darkness, the feeling was still there.

As if his body was remembering what his soul was trying to forget. The same feeling he'd lived with since he came into this world.