Chapter Text
Tenko is taking Mon for a walk because that’s what the hero in the cartoon did to help their neighbor. Mon is wearing a top hat, a black tuxedo, and a tie that looks like one of the ones Night-sama let him pick out for her to wear to work.
“Don’t get the tie dirty, Mon,” Tenko says to the dog, “Night-sama wouldn’t like it if you ruin it.”
Mon yips at him, and then says, “Night-sama doesn’t get mad. And besides, she doesn’t wear ties a lot. She wouldn’t be sad if this one was dirty. She’d just put it in the washing machine.”
“Night-sama does too get mad.”
“Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Does not,” Mon yipped again, “Night-sama hasn’t yelled at you for playing heroes. And she didn’t hit you when you played with the stuff on her desk. Dad hit you really really hard when Hana-nee said you took the picture of Grandma. But Night-sama didn’t hit you. And she hugged you after you told her you hurt Hana-nee and Mom and Gram-Gram and Gramp-Gramp.”
Mon turned his head to one side, top hat nearly sliding off of his head, “Well. I guess Night-sama would be mad if she knew about Dad.”
Tenko’s blood ran cold.
“That was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt Dad. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It wasn’t my fault. Night-sama said it wasn’t my fault.”
Tenko looked back at Mon, only to see that the dog had grown bigger and was now standing on his back two legs. Mon’s yip sounded lower and grittier. Almost like a bark of laughter, “Dad was different. I and Hana-nee and the others might have been accidents. But my boy, don’t you remember?”
“Remember?”
“When you reached out to your father, you were smiling.”
Tenko started to shake as Mon grew even bigger, fur shedding off of his body. Mon’s snout squished in, and his face morphed into that of a man’s. Tenko didn’t know who Mon-turned-man was, but there was an itch in his mind like the day he had discovered his quirk. Like he feels that he should know. But he didn’t, couldn’t place Mon-turned-man’s face.
“Hello, Tenko.”
“Who are you?” he asked.
“You might not recall, but we’ve met before. I was the one to give you your quirk.”
“Go away! Where’s Mon? I want Mon! Or Night-sama! Or Torino-san or Yagi-san!”
“My, my. You must have more memory troubles than I first thought. Can’t you feel the blood on your hands, Tenko?”
“What are you--” Tenko looked down at his hands only to see that they were now drenched in blood. He screamed and started to wildly shake them, trying to get the red off of him.
“If it was that easy to undo a murder, there’d be much fewer killers in this world. And besides,” Tenko continued to scream as Mon-turned-man grabbed his hands and cupped them together, “Didn’t it feel good to make sure your father would never hurt you again? Didn’t it feel right to punish the people that never helped you? Didn’t you feel powerful knowing you held people’s lives in your hands? What am I saying, of course, you did. You’re just like me.”
Tenko tried to yank his hands out of Mon-turned-man’s grasp but failed. He wanted to wipe away the tears that were falling from his eyes, but instead, he was forced to look at Mon-turned-man through a blurry gaze as he continued to speak, “Don’t cry, Tenko. You’ll be where you belong soon enough. It was foolish of me to allow Gran Torino and other allies of past One for All holders to live, but I’ll rectify that mistake soon enough. The hero organization drafted by my brother and the second and third especially needs to fall.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere! Night-sama! Yagi-san! Torino-san! ANYBODY?”
“Calling for help is useless, Tenko. There’s not a person strong enough in the world to beat me. And why would a hero like your precious Night-sama ever help a murderer like you?”
“Because Night-sama’s a hero, and that’s what heroes do!” Tenko yelled at Mon-turned-man and finally pulled his hands away. He pulled off the gloves Night-sama had told him to wear when he didn’t want to use his quirk and dived to the ground. Tenko watched as the sidewalk below him began to crack and crumble. The cracks spread out, breaking down everything they touched.
When they finally reached Mon-turned-man, he just gave a grim smile and looked back at Tenko, “See, Tenko. Just like me.”
And with that, Mon-turned-man fell apart into a mess of blood, guts, and organs.
*****
Tenko snapped awake. He brought his still-gloved hands to his cheeks and wiped at the tears cascading down his face. He looked around to see that he hadn’t fallen asleep on the futon Night-sama laid out for him every night, or in one of the spare bedrooms of the hero agency Night-sama worked at. He hugged the blanket around him and sat up.
“NIGHT-SAMA!”
A wham sound came from the other room followed by footsteps. A quick knock on the door soon followed, “Tenko-kun? Are you alright?”
“Nigh-- Night-sama….”
“I’m coming in,” the door opened and there stood Night-sama in her PJ-pants and worn-out Ketsubutsu t-shirt. Night-sama took a few steps towards him and sat down at the end of the bed, “Another nightmare?”
Tenko nodded.
Night-sama sighed and lifted her hand towards him questioningly. Tenko lunged towards her side. She pulled him close, snuggling his head to her chest. Tenko felt the steady rhythm of her heart as Night-sama rubbed circles into his back, “I’m here, Tenko-kun. I’m right here. No one will ever be able to hurt you, not even the bad man from your dreams. Especially not him.”
“It-- it was the same man.”
“The one you told me about?”
“Yeah,” Tenko sniffed and rubbed at his eyes again. He heard a whisper come from Night-sama. Something about wondering if ‘that man had no other way to spend his time at night than harassing little kids.’
“Can you sing to me?” he asked, “One of those old lullabies you know? The ones that no one else can sing?”
“Absolutely. Which one, Tenko-kun?”
Tenko thought for a moment, “The thankful one.”
Night-sama nodded, understanding exactly which song Tenko wanted her to sing. She sat up straighter and adjusted him in her arms, keeping one hand rubbing circles into his back, as the other started to comb through his hair. She took a breath and started to sing.
“I see trees of green,
Red roses too.
I see them bloom,
For me and you.
And I think to myself:
What a wonderful world.”
Tenko clung to Night-sama’s shirt, pulling her closer and leaning into her touch. The longer she sang, the more he was able to put the memories of the man out of his mind.
“I see skies of blue,
And clouds of white.
The bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself:
What a wonderful world.”
Tenko’s eyes started to close on him, and he yawned. Night-sama’s circle-rubbing and hair-playing started to gradually slow down, but the singing kept on.
“The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky,
Are also on the faces
Of people passing by.
I see friends shaking hands.
Saying ‘how do you do?’
They’re really saying,
‘I love you.’”
On the ‘I love you,’ part, Night-sama booped him on the nose and gave him a tired smile. She shifted him so that he was laying down again on the bed.
“I hear babies cry.
I watch them grow.
They’ll know so much more
Than I’ll ever know.
And I think to myself:
What a wonderful world.”
Night-sama tugged the blankets up to his chin and tucked him into bed. Tenko yawned again and burrowed deeper under the warm covers.
“Yes, I think to myself:
What a wonderful world.”
As Night-sama ended her song, she slowly shifted back up off the bed. With a quick kiss to his forehead, she slowly exited the room, “Goodnight, Tenko-kun.”
“Goodnight, Night-sama,” as Night-sama closed the door, Tenko turned on his side and fell back to sleep.
“If all of this is a dream,” he thought to himself before sleep overtook him once more, “Please never wake me up.”
*****
The second I left Tenko’s room, I came face-to-pec with All Might.
I looked up to meet his gaze (and wasn’t that an unusual occurrence. One of the best things about my second life was my height. I had barely hit five-four in my last life, and I absolutely adored being the tallest person in the room in my current one. Having to look up at someone was weird and unfamiliar in an almost nostalgic kind of way. Like trying to fall back into a long-forgotten habit years after it was broken.), “Yagi-san. What can I do for you at this fine,” I looked around for a clock and caught the time off the stove in the nearby kitchen, “Three-twenty-seven in the morning?”
“Nothing, you’re perfectly fine, Madam Nighteye! I just heard young Tenko’s cries earlier and wanted to check in and see if he was alright!”
I blinked up at All Might and his sincere smile.
I hadn’t finished explaining All for One until almost midnight, and then I didn’t fall asleep until well past one because insomnia’s a punk-ass bitch. So how the fuck was he this awake at three-twenty-fucking-three AM?
Did he have a secret quirk? Had he gotten a hold of Nedzu’s Hell Coffee recipe? Was it drugs? I’d be down for becoming a drug addict if the high left me feeling like I actually slept for more than four hours a night.
All Might, oblivious to how much he was making me contemplate questionable activity for a hero, only smiled wider, “However, it seemed like you had the situation well in hand! I’ll let you get back to sleep.”
“Yeah, you should head back to bed too. I wouldn’t want you to leave the good people of Japan high and dry tomorrow just because you were too tired to go to work.”
All Might, instead of politely agreeing and lumbering off to bed as I expected, instead stiffened, genuine smile turning forced, “Whatever do you mean by that, Madam Nighteye? I’m just a secretary. I don’t handle anything more important than filling out paperwork and handling All Might’s schedule.”
I froze and cursed myself out in my mind. Fuck. All Might doesn’t know that I know about his cover story. Keep calm, Mirai. Just play it cool. Play it cool. Cool.
“I’d hardly call that unimportant, Yagi-san. If there’s one thing I know about hero work, it’s that it comes with a lot of paperwork. I don’t envy you or any of the others at the Might Tower. Didn’t your boss clock in over a hundred arrests and nearly a thousand people saved just this week? That must be a lot of insurance claims, potential lawsuits, PR scandals, and interviews to map out over such a short period of time. And don’t even get me started on merchandising. How spotlight heroes can handle that particular circus of monkeys is beyond me.”
All Might relaxed more and more as I continued to babble, “Yes. The merchandise in particular is pretty difficult to deal with. All Might’s been the number one hero for nearly a decade at this point, and you’d be surprised at how many knock-off products we’ve had to deal with over the years. The fanart is fine. It’s an open secret around the office that All Might is immensely flattered whenever he sees that people are inspired enough by him to make art of him. But some more….risqué products come to mind.”
I snorted, “Like what? Body pillows? Y/n fanfiction? All Might porn?”
He nodded along with my words, “You’re not wrong, per se. But let’s just say those are all rather tame in comparison to some of the more extreme things I and the team have seen over the years.”
“What’s the worst one?”
All Might thought for a moment, “That’d probably have to go to the line of All Might-inspired dildos and vibrators some company in America made about a year ago.”
I was struck dumb as he flashed a mischievous smile. In an instant, All Might was miming into a fake microphone and fast-talking like an American salesman, “Hey you! Yes, you, right there. Can I interest you in one of our lovely All Might sex toys? As hung as the Symbol of Peace himself, Detroit won’t be the only thing getting smashed tonight! For only nineteen-ninety-nine, you will get your choice from our luxurious United States of Smash line. Order within the next thirty minutes and shipping is free!”
All Might shot me a crazed smile, eyes flashing with mirth. I took one look at his face, and I lost it.
“Sweet Jesus! How did-- how did All Might react to that one? Did he….did he….” I wheezed a bit from laughter and tried to catch my breath, “Did he lose it?”
He chuckled a bit before answering, “All Might was so confused. When the dildos were first brought to his attention, he only heard the word ‘toys,’ so he absent-mindedly said, ‘Well so long as the makers aren’t using toxic materials, I think we can let the toys slide. I’m sure they’ll make plenty of kids happy!’ I don’t think I’d ever forget Maita’s look of pure horror until the day I die.”
My shoulders shook with laughter as I choked on my cackles, “He did not.”
“He did. And you want to know the worst part of it all?”
“It gets worse?”
“Somehow,” All Might waved his hands in an all-encompassing confused motion, “Okay, so procedure states that anytime we have to deal with contraband merchandise, we have to store it at Might Tower for a few days for our PR and legal teams to scrutinize the products. That’s fine, it’s standard. But here’s the thing. After the dildos made their rounds and PR and legal did their jobs, the merchandiser found that over a dozen or so dildos were missing.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes! But wait, there’s more. It never mattered before, because we’re professionals that do our jobs, but apparently, if more than five products are missing from a container, we legally have to buy the entire container from the merchandiser. So now, there’s an industrial-sized crate filled with nearly five hundred All Might dildos just sitting in storage at Might Tower. All because a handful of employees all decided that they wanted to fulfill their office fantasies of sleeping with the boss.”
“Oh my God. This is how I die. Not from a villain, but from fucking All Might dildos,” I laughed even more.
“Go ahead and laugh now, but All Might was mortified. I-- he’s not the best with social interactions despite his fame. So for weeks, he got flustered around every single employee at Might Tower because, in the back of his mind, he was wondering if they were one of the ones who stole a dildo.”
“Did you ever find out who took them?”
The poor man shook his head as he stared off like he was having Vietnam flashbacks, “Nope. It’s been months now, and no one’s come forward to admit it. I don’t know if they’re worried about repercussions, but at this point, it’s become a living legend around Might Tower.”
I finally got a hold of my laughter, “Well that’s one thing that would never happen at the IUCA. Our brand of shenaniganry is a bit more PG.”
“Come now. Every agency has its horror stories. I think it comes with the territory of having so many highly skilled individuals in one place. You must have something as entertaining as the dildos.”
“While not as hysterical, I do have a few tales ingrained into my mind.”
“Such as?”
“Well. I can’t imagine you’d have much knowledge about the IUCA, but one thing you must know is that every single underground hero is simultaneously stoic and absolutely bonkers. We’ve all mastered the stony glare and no-nonsense attitude for dealing with criminals, policemen, and spotlight heroes who want to spew nonsense about taking credit for our work. But we’re also essentially a group of vigilantes who trust absolutely no one without an underground hero license. So when you’re filling out forms at any given IUCA agency, you’re often going to bear witness to no less than four different prank wars, two NERF gunfights, and various heroes doing God knows what at two in the afternoon.”
“I can imagine the headlines now if some top-ten was found to endorse wacky office hijinks. But I guess that’s part of the fun of staying away from the spotlight,” I said, “We’re underground. We don’t get news coverage, we don’t have merch, we can’t sell our rights to different movies and TV shows, we can’t endorse products. Heck, we don’t even get coverage from the Hero Public Safety Commission.”
“You don’t?” All Might asked in surprise.
“Our founders established us with the intention of us essentially being an elite task force for the NPA. We get a lot more extra hazard pay, and all of our insurance is covered by the state, but because we all directly report and work alongside the police instead of the HPSC, we don’t get those extra bonuses the HPSC gives out to spotlight heroes for saving more people or for doing so well in the rankings.”
“That must be tough.”
I shrugged, “Eh. I don’t think I’d say no to the extra money, but I’d take the NPA over the HPSC any day. The NPA is a bit of a mixed bag, but their Internal Affairs takes all of our accusations seriously, and there are plenty of checks and balances between the NPA and the IUCA to curb corruption. The Hero Public Safety Commission, on the other hand? The entire organization is rotten, and it’s just getting worse. And say what you will about underground heroes, but you know they’re in it for the right reasons. If they wanted to be a hero for fame or money, they’d go spotlight or sign on as some prestigious hero’s sidekick. But when they’re out there every day, risking their lives for not even an ounce of recognition, you know they mean it.”
The conversation tapered off from there. We exchanged a few awkward good nights before All Might excused himself. I stumbled back into the living room and collapsed onto the futon. All Might, the westaboo he was, had one of the western futons that folded from a couch into a bed instead of just a mattress. I curled up and tried to fall back asleep, hoping beyond hope that Tenko wouldn’t have any more nightmares.
*****
Toshinori gently closed his bedroom door and dropped down in front of it.
“Oh master,” he thought to himself, “I feel like I’m failing you.”
Toshinori hadn’t known what to do when young Tenko had called out for help in the night. When he’s All Might, he never hesitates to jump into danger for the sake of saving someone.
But he didn’t know jack when it came to saving a little boy from the fears conjured up in the dead of night.
Nighteye hadn’t hesitated. She had calmed Tenko down like it was nothing, lulling him back to sleep with coos and cuddles and a lullaby so sweet it was nearly heartbreaking. He should probably feel more guilty about listening to the two’s private moment, but he just couldn’t pull himself away as Nighteye had masterfully laid the boy’s fears to rest. He had made it up, anyhow, when he’d gotten Nighteye to laugh.
The woman just continued to surprise him. The dry, uncontrollable, wheezy cackles of a few moments ago would have never have come from the ice queen that initially knocked on his apartment door. Nighteye, he was finding, was an enigma. One he was certainly going to enjoy working alongside.
“You’ve lost, All for One,” he thought, “You might not know it yet, but you have. You should have never gone after my master’s family. I will find you and ensure you get the justice you deserve. And if what Madam Nighteye says is true, then you’ve got hundreds of underground heroes ready to take you down, too.”