The day after the welcome party—where I'd made every sidekick and staff member at the Endeavor Agency chant "Hip-hip-hooray!" over and over—began early.
The old bald guy had summoned me first thing in the morning. I changed into my hero suit and headed toward the president's office. On the way, I spotted some of the sidekicks who had been at the party; I waved, and they all greeted me warmly. Unlike their boss, they actually had some social graces. Yesterday's party really was a blast. We should definitely do it again sometime.
I walked into the office without knocking. Inside, Shoto was already there in his hero suit, facing off against the bald guy, who was perched in his chair with a look of supreme arrogance.
...Are they about to scrap?
Shoto noticed me and gave a brief "Hey," which I returned with a casual wave.
"...Nothing for me?"
The old man was grumbling. He was probably talking to Shoto rather than me, but Shoto just ignored him, letting the words drift away like a breeze. He didn't show a flicker of a reaction.
I started to feel a little sorry for the guy, so I threw him a "Mornin'."
"...Hmph."
"Hmph"? Really? You're supposed to say "Good morning." Or at least a casual "Morning." Even a "G'day" would work. Honestly, what a social disaster. No wonder Shoto blanks him.
What an idiot. Stupid bald old man. Maybe I should just pluck out the rest of those hairs one by one.
"...You're thinking about something rude, aren't you, Futora Midoriya?"
"Noooope. Not at all."
"I have never seen someone lie so transparently in my entire life."
The old man let out a long sigh and leaned back deep into his chair.
"If I try to keep pace with your ridiculous attitude, I'll lose my rhythm. Just shut up and listen."
"..."
"...At least give me an answer."
"Yes, sir~"
Seemingly satisfied with that, he laced his fingers together and began his lecture.
"As you begin your workplace experience, I am establishing three fundamental rules. First: you are strictly forbidden from leaving my sight during hero activities. This is for your own protection. You will follow this without exception."
Well, that made sense. It'd be a massive headache for him if his interns got mangled or killed on the job.
"Second: you will comply with my instructions during hero activities. This includes combat, evacuations, and rescues. As long as you are with me, you will encounter these situations firsthand. However, do not engage in any of these activities without my direct command. No matter the situation, you both lack the experience and knowledge required. Do not act on your own and cause unnecessary chaos."
That's basic common sense. Whenever an amateur tries to stick their nose in, they usually just make things worse. No arguments there.
"Third: if you follow the first two rules and still find yourselves in immediate personal danger, you are permitted to retreat as a special exception. You are also authorized to use your Quirks for the purpose of that retreat. While I am present, such a situation should be impossible—but there is an exception to every rule. In that event, don't worry about me. Just run. That is all. Any questions?"
Shoto didn't react, so I raised my hand instead. The old man's face twisted into an expression of pure annoyance.
"...What is it, Futora Midoriya?"
"I think I get the gist. Basically: 'Sit back and watch how a pro does it,' right? That's easy enough, so I'm fine with it. But for the third rule—the self-preservation retreat—are you really just leaving that judgment call up to us?"
"Hmph. If you can't make a simple judgment like that, you won't survive as a pro. Besides, I am well aware of your high level of ability. I only say it because I believe you are capable of it. I have no interest in wasting my time on dead weight."
I see. Well, well.
"Shoto. You understand as well?"
"Yeah."
The moment Shoto answered, the old man's face visibly brightened. The corners of his mouth twitched upward just a fraction. Most people probably wouldn't have noticed, but nothing escapes the eyes of the perfectly lovely magical girl, Futora-nyan.
As I was busy patting myself on the back mentally, the phone on the president's desk began to ring. It was a high-pitched, urgent tone that gave me a bad feeling. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. After a few brief words, he set it back down.
"A good start. To think work would come knocking so soon. Shoto, Futora Midoriya—get ready. It's time for a meaningful lesson."
+++
From there, we followed him out to the front lines. We piled into a specialized dispatch vehicle and spent the day racing from east to west in a frantic whirlwind of activity. Aside from a quick stop at a convenience store for lunch and a crepe shop for the sugar hit I demanded, we worked straight through without a single detour.
One of the sidekicks mentioned that it wasn't usually this busy. Apparently, we'd just hit a particularly chaotic day.
Watching the old man work all day hammered home one fact: this bald guy really knows his stuff.
Today's opponents were mostly just street punks with a bit of extra muscle. He wasn't even using his full power, but his sheer strength was painfully obvious. It wasn't just the intensity of his Quirk; his raw physical ability was through the roof. He's easily in the top tier of anyone I've ever seen. In a fair fight, most people wouldn't stand a chance. Maybe you could take him down with some underhanded tricks... but that only works if he's a meathead.
He isn't. He grasps situations instantly, makes rapid-fire decisions, and uses his mountain of experience to predict and act before the enemy can even blink.
Considering all that, there's no doubt that his rank as the Number Two Hero is well-earned. Add to that his skill as a commander—knowing exactly how to bring out the best in his sidekicks—and it actually made me wonder why the hell he's only in second place.
Honestly, isn't he more impressive than the current Muscle Man?
When I said that out loud, he grumbled, "Is that supposed to be a backhanded compliment?" But when he realized I was being sincere, his mood improved visibly.
What a pushover.
Seeing my opening, I nudged the dazed-looking Shoto to whisper the word "steak." Sure enough, we ended up having dinner at a steakhouse the old man frequents near the agency. Since he was in such a good mood, he told us to "pick whatever we wanted," so I didn't hold back and went for the most expensive item on the menu. He immediately downgraded me to something more reasonable. Unfair.
It was still delicious, though.
+++
That night, Shoto came by my room.
The lesson from the first time I kicked him out must have stuck, because this time he knocked and waited patiently for my permission to enter.
"Sorry for dropping by so late."
"It's fine. I wasn't doing anything special."
I figured standing around would be awkward, so I gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa. He just shook his head. "This won't take long. I'm fine here."
I waited for him to speak. Eventually, he continued.
"From your perspective... what did you think of my father?"
It was an abstract question, and I struggled with how to answer. When I tilted my head in confusion, Shoto's brow furrowed slightly.
"...Never mind. Sorry. I need a bit more time."
But then, he sat on the sofa anyway. He told me everything—the rift between him and the old man, and his mother, who was the cause of it all. He told me how, sparked by our fight, he'd finally been able to talk to his mother after years of silence.
The story was so heavy it left Futora-nyan feeling groggy. Blegh.
By the time he finished, Shoto looked strangely refreshed. He looked me straight in the eye.
"So, let me ask you again, Midoriya. In your eyes, what kind of person is he?"
I finally understood what he was looking for, so I gave it to him straight, no flattery involved.
"A Hero. Someone incredible who has maintained the Number Two spot for years."
Shoto let out a small, "I see."
As he started to stand up, I kept going.
"But, if you're asking about him as a person and not a hero... he just looked like a middle-aged guy who's worried sick because he has no idea how to talk to his son."
I didn't know his true character yet. But I could at least see that he was trying to figure something out.
"...Is that so? I... I still don't know. He did something unforgivable. And I don't think I can ever forgive him. But seeing him today made me waver."
"He was more of a hero than I thought. I saw that there are people out there who were saved by him."
"I think I've realized that the father I've been looking at isn't the whole story."
With that, Shoto stood up for real this time.
"Knowing a person is difficult."
"Tell me about it. There are things I don't understand either. If I did, I wouldn't be fighting with Kacchan all the time."
"True... but you two are... No, it's nothing."
"?"
With my second day finished, I flopped onto the bed and opened my phone. There were plenty of updates from everyone about how their first day had gone.
But still, not a single email from Kacchan.
"He could at least apologize..."
After finishing my replies to everyone else, I drifted off to sleep without making a prank call to him for once.
I'll keep it a secret that I felt a little lonely.
***
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