I Took a Walk

A slight breeze wafted across the UA campus, carrying with it warning of inclement weather to come. The clouds too gave off hints, though refrained from releasing their deluge upon the citizens of Musutafu for the time being. Many of the students and teachers on campus had found shelter. Others still braved the outdoors as if to dare the heavens to open up a torrent upon them. For now the skies seemed placated; overcast, but calm.

A large portion of the UA campus consisted of a winding park, peppered with grassy fields, sparse forests, and benches lining their paths. One would often find students working on their homework here when the weather was nice. Today, however, the park was mostly deserted. Deserted, save for at least one teenager.

Sigga was prostrated over her homework on the ground, furiously erasing and scribbling away. Rather than take up residence on one of the many park benches, the girl made the confounding decision to settle herself in the center of the path. It wasn’t madness that forced her to assemble here, but something far, far more sinister. Algebra. The rules for indices and exponents, to be precise. It wasn’t difficult or anything. Quite the contrary. Algebra and all related fields in mathematics were actually rather therapeutic for the fish. Numbers just made sense. They kept her sane while the chaos of the world raged around her. Math didn’t give her anxiety; didn’t ship her half-way around the world to a new school. It provided her with simple patterns and puzzles with which to play. Today, though, math was being very rude.

It was her own fault, really. Her internship was to start in a couple days so Sigga had taken up the task of completing all her homework as soon as possible instead of sticking to her usual routine of working on it the morning it was due. Unfortunately haste makes waste. She had achieved the opposite of her goal. She had neglected in showing her work and was now in the process of erasing portions of it to make room for expanded answers. The realization of the error had been made while in transit so instead of finding an appropriate spot to make the changes she simply set up shop right where she had been standing. Naturally.

It was a good thing the cold didn’t seem to bother her. Perhaps she was just too focused. The academy blouse, blood-red tie, and pleated skirt certainly did little in providing warmth. At least the long socks that went with her academy uniform kept that scandalous ankle-monitor well hidden.

The bald first-year let out a long, hissing sigh. The smear marks and faded numbering made it look more like a topographic sketch of a century-old battlefield than a school-girl’s math homework. At least now it was technically done. Sigga opened up her academy bag, about to deposit her messy algebraic composition, when movement from her peripheral caught her attention. The girl spun her head, as if only now made aware of where she had been working and whose path she had been in.

“M-muffin man?!” No sooner had she uttered the words than her expression flushed with a grimace, which slowly morphed into a guilty grin. Looked like her mouth beat her brain to the punch. That was not a nickname she had meant to voice aloud, especially not to someone who knew her dirty little secret.

Sigga rearranged her expression to the well-rehearsed one, of courtesy and respect, only a seasoned perjurer could muster. She immediately amended her greeting to a more neutral, “Suzkui-senpai.” Nobody’s ego could ignore such a distinguished honorific added to their name, certainly.

What an odd coincidence to run into him again, though. Only last week had the girl entertained a random act of whimsy when, through some sly detective work, she determined which room in the 1-A dorms was his and had left a row of three oranges at the foot of his door. One of the oranges had a smiley face made out of cloves emblazoned upon it. There had been no note or indication they had been from her and unless Tomoshibi or Miyoshi-san had informed the blonde of her whereabouts on that particular day, Sigga felt reasonably certain she remained above suspicion. She had simply desired to make someone’s day a little more surreal, but her skills and imagination were limited to her very real lack of omnipotence.

He seemed almost surprised to see her. Almost. Perhaps it had been her initial greeting, but it looked to her as if she had interrupted some deep train of thought or something. Sigga’s expression relaxed upon hearing the young man’s greeting before returning to the guilty grin of regret. He had heard her blurt it out. Of course he had. “Uh-heh.” Suzuki-san, her inner monologue silently amended, committing both the proper way to address the blond and the accompanying cringe memory to… well… memory. The fish gritted her teeth as some esoteric form of apology before the conversation shifted direction.

Sigga’s amber eyes blinked at Hyou, as if expecting a follow up. Of course it was rather self-absorbed of the girl to think he had shown up here for her specifically. His surveying of the surroundings along with the follow-up question brought the bald air-head back down to earth. The girl blinked, as if the meaning of the question had escaped her. A quick glance at a nearby bench along with her head spinning to see exactly where she had situated herself quickly resolved the student’s lack of understanding.

“Oh. Oh,” she repeated, awkwardly getting to her feet as the homework she had been holding fell to the pavement. “Crap.” Sigga quickly snapped up her pages and unceremoniously shoved them into her school bag, taking a moment to arrange them after the fact as she explained herself. “I, uh- I was just working on homework- Its, uh- I’m trying to get ahead.” Her words did little to enlighten why she had chosen this spot as her workstation. Eventually the girl managed to properly house her pages, pencil, and eraser, and closed up her bag.

Turning back to Hyou she clarified, “I’ve, uh, got an internship thing coming up and, well, I’m trying to get all my homework out of the way so I don’t fall behind.” Sigga seemed a little out of sorts, though the slight reddening of her cheeks had little to do with her harried appearance. In part it was her realizing she had over-explained what could have been a simple answer, but mostly it was the subject of the internship that had her feeling a little flustered. She certainly didn’t mean to sound like she was bragging that she had one lined up.

The entire ordeal, if she even had a right to call it that, happened so succinctly it was as if countless forces had carefully set up events that would lead the former fraudster quickly onto the path of success. In short, Sigga felt guilty for even having an internship. She definitely didn’t deserve the opportunity. Heck, the only reason she even set down the path to acquiring it was quite simply to spite someone. Now she was going to go under the tutelage of a notable pro-hero while others were scrambling for a mere chance of getting an internship like hers. Sure the fish felt a little entitled in catching a break, but it never occurred to her that this might the start of it. Ugh.

“Whataboutchu?” Sigga asked, quick to change the subject. She didn’t really care to talk about herself, regardless of the good such a conversation might bring her state of mind. The girl was more focused on composing herself while her counterpart was distracted with her question.

Sigga slung her bag over her shoulder as if to hide any reminder of her peculiar study habits or the reason behind her frazzled appearance. As luck would have it, the subject of internships wasn’t about to just go away. The boy had misunderstood her question, which was entirely understandable considering the lack of specificity of her slurred query. While she was actually wondering what he was doing here, Sigga was plenty content with the subject of conversation simply shifting away from her.

Apparently Suzuki-san too was going through an internship. Or at least he had recently. The girl didn’t recognize the name of the pro-hero or the agency mentioned, but that wasn’t saying much. She might be a UA student with decent grades (mostly) but the whole hero business, specifically the particulars of it in Japan, was still largely unknown to her.

Lockon from the Bloodhounds… Sigga gave herself a little mental note.

It always paid to have a contingency plan in case her current internship somehow fell through. There wasn’t any reason for it to fall through, though. Not that she was aware of anyway. At least not if she didn’t count the suspicious ease with which she managed to acquire it.

As the boy continued talking about his experience it began to sound like maybe the Bloodhounds were… a little more risky of a fit for her than she’d be willing to take on. Of course, it didn’t matter as long as she didn’t do something to blow her present opportunity with that strangely aloof Firebrand. She didn’t know if he’d be personally supervising her internships or if it would get passed down to someone else in his agency.

As Suzuki-san concluded his remarks, which seemed spoken almost as if he was recalling some thoughts while his mouth ran on autopilot, Sigga remembered something that helped explain his strange comment. The day they had first met the blond had been very quick in figuring out the nature of her ankle monitor. Upon stating as much to Sigga, seeing her suddenly fall silent, and then correctly realizing how uncomfortable she had been with another person knowing her secret, even in part, he had suggested (well, more like outright stated) that his own past was mired in immoral or illicit activities as well. Maybe she shouldn’t be beating herself up over getting an internship so easily. It was quite evident now that she wasn’t the only with a mindset filled with so much self-doubt.

Her amber orbs shone lightly in commiseration, the bald fish looking back at the other teen. She had previously wondered what exactly was in his past, but knew better than to broach the subject. He had already said he preferred not to talk about it. For more reasons than one Sigga wasn’t about to try using her Quirk to find out any details on the matter, but maybe if she’d bide her time and offer up some of her own compromising past she’d be able to learn something about his.

That wasn’t a conversation to be had now, however, and the fish’s thoughts quickly pivoted back to the subject she was feeling slightly less bashful about discussing.

“Flame-On,” she said, appearing a little more lucid than a minute ago. “’s an agency that’s apparently run by a UA teacher; third-year homeroom, I think…” Sigga prodded one of her cheeks as she tried to recall. “He’s… I donno. My interview was kind of… weird. Short.” She pursed her lips thinking about it for a brief moment, before continuing. “They do all kinds of stuff, like hostage rescue, disaster relief… I’m… not actually sure what the internship is going to involve though. Maybe they’ll have me behind a desk helping out with a sudden audit or something. That would explain the short interview,” Sigga said, eyes slowly widening at the very plausible conclusion she had just drawn.

Suzuki-san made a good point. Though normally the girl didn’t shy away from desk work, the idea of her internship revolving around something so mundane would have been very embarrassing once her case worker got wind of it. The snaky woman was the source of the girl’s spiteful attempt to acquire an internship in the first place after all. Ideally, whatever her internship ended up being like would be resume-worthy. “Hmm,” the girl mused.

Her mind started to wander off, again thinking about the possible happenings her internship would revolve around. Sigga really wished she had a better idea of exactly what she was going to be doing. She’d know soon enough. Better to not fret about it now, though that was easier said than done.

The blond suddenly interjected the bald girl’s thoughts, finally stating what he had been up to before running into her. His invitation was met with a slight hesitation before Sigga nodded her affirmative, “Uh, yeah. Sure.” The way she had gone at her homework today, although necessary, had the undesirable feeling of burn-out creep in on her. She was done with that now though so a distraction at the end of the day would do her some good. “I think my legs were starting to fall asleep…” the girl remarked offhandedly, shuffling her feet around.

Sigga didn’t think much of the invitation to walk aimlessly at first, but as soon as the duo set off her mind returned to the subject of the boy who was with her. She glanced casually in his direction as they made their way through the UA park grounds. Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask him something a single drop of water bounced off her forehead. Then another. Sigga looked skyward as the clouds unleashed their gentle salvo.

She stared upwards at the infinite sea of clouds, momentarily transfixed. The grey strati themselves remained silent. No boisterous thunder to remind Japan’s denizens of their presence. Just the rhythmic pulse of raindrops dancing off the pavement and trees, slowly, methodically increasing in number.

Unlike most people, Sigga actually enjoyed such inclement weather. Not just admiring the misery from inside the comfort of her warm dorm room, but actually being in the rain. The tickling torrent on her scalp. The way her clothes would stick to her like a second skin. The stronger the deluge the more ethereal the experience. But the girl was keenly aware few shared her sentiments on the subject. Most people were like cats. Or simply fearful their fashionable wardrobe and carefully manicured hair might be irreversibly tarnished by too many drops of dew.

Maybe that was why the teenager was one with the rain. She didn’t have any hair. And her clothing was often a cheap knockoff brand or, as in this case, simply her school uniform. Maybe the physiology brought on by her Quirk had something to do with it too. The precipitation often felt a little warm to the fish. Why others were programed to disdain the rain had always been somewhat of a mystery to her. But a conundrum worth investigating? Perhaps.

The girl stole another glance at the blond, careful to keep her own expression hidden from him. He didn’t seem particularly pleased with the weather. Unsurprising. Her amber eyes followed his gaze.

Sigga saw the shelter he had spotted, something akin to a bus stop though conveniently placed within the UA grounds. Curved, steel girders held up a roof painted in deep blue. Undoubtedly it was meant for those seeking a spot to sit outdoors without worry of sun or rain impeding on their leisure.

She followed close behind him, taking note of his token attempt to shield himself from the drizzle. Sigga watched him take a seat on the bench. He was clearly peeved at that weather’s indifference to his troubles, that much was certain. That, coupled with Hyou’s desire to go for a walk, now seemed to stem from more than some idle spontaneity. What exactly was eating at him?

No answer would be given to the blond’s spoken question. Why was the girl ignoring him? As soon as he’d look up from his new perch he’d find Sigga, head cocked, staring curiously back at him. A crooked grin was spread across her noseless face. What’s more, he’d notice that she had stopped just short of the shelter’s protective roofing. The rain pelted the back of her uniform and bag slung over her shoulder which slowly took in the moisture, her body shielding the red tie on her chest.

It was now quite clear she had been trying to suppress herself from laughing, not wanting to seem cruel. “What?” the girl would blurt amid her grin, timing her word to quickly interrupt whatever the other student might say as if to put on an air of clairvoyance. Sigga took a single, deliberate step back from him and the roofing of the shelter. The rain, slowly picking up in intensity, was now gently peppering her from all sides.

Her oversized hands, balled up into fists, sat on the sides of her pleated skirt. “Whatsamatter? Lockon had you work on his shower or something?”

The tease was meant as more than just a playful provocation. It seemed unlikely the rain, or even hypothetical plumbing work at the young man’s internship were the cause of his unease. That was exactly the reason Sigga chose those words. In order to amuse him; have him lower his guard some. She was going to have him entertain or enlighten her, whether he liked it or not.

Before he could answer her, Sigga took another step back from him, forcing him to raise his voice or close the distance if he desired to be heard clearly.

It wasn’t exactly a moral code or set of ethics that bound her actions. More of a… criteria stemming from a sense of self-preservation that had kept the girl from using her Quirk to look into the minds of her fellow students. The legality of perusing someone’s thoughts was only at issue on account of the consequences that came with it. Sigga was also a little reluctant in breaking the unspoken trust between them, even if Hyou didn’t actually know about her Quirk. But damn if his demeanor didn’t temp the fish so.

It would be so easy to take a peak. Just grab ahold of his hand and rummage about his noggin’ until he kicked her out. In the past, she had done so with some of her foster-siblings before they had established boundaries. The girl had learned that people oft kept some of their more vulnerable thoughts at the forefront of their mind whenever they were looking… contemplative.

The grin on Sigga’s face relaxed. The boy seemed to be struggling to find the words; to find the courage to state them.

When he finally managed to ask for her help she stepped out of the rain, dropping her bag on the ground by the bench. The expression she wore had lost its Machiavellian charm. Sigga didn’t look quite as pensive as he did, but at least there wasn’t any doubt he had her full attention.

“What’s up?” the bald girl said cautiously, taking a seat next to Hyou. The tone in which she responded to his plea didn’t match the words themselves. There was the slightest hint of concern in them.

Sigga had not expected him to suddenly desire to open up to her about what was on his mind. The opportunity had instinctually elicited a degree of excitement at the thought of finally finding out what was bothering him. But that excitement had been almost immediately tempered by a feeling of anxiety; concern that she might not be able to help. The girl’s amber peepers looked to his, ready to commiserate. Sigga’s almost-web-like hands gripped the seat under her, staying well clear of the teenager next to her.

Though only fifteen years of age, Sigga had lived long enough on terra firma to have witnessed plenty of good and evil done by both those that pledged to protect and those branded their antithesis. You could probably toss all the people in the world into a jar, shake it up, scoop out a smattering of them, and the result would provide an accurate spectrum of just what kind of people embodied the title of Pro Hero. Not quite the ideal one would hope for or necessarily expect. Outside the most-well known paragons of modern society the bar was held particularly low. Almost anyone could become a hero.

The girl didn’t need to break into the young man’s mind to get a good idea of what he was talking about, though. Vague as what he was driving at was, Sigga was certain Hyou was actually talking about someone in his life. Someone he knew personally. Perhaps a family member or a mentor? At the very least an individual the blond clearly held in some regard, but who also seemed to be falling short of his ideals. It never occurred to the girl just how personal in nature his query had actually been.

“Well…” Sigga began, turning her gaze away from him. Her eyes also now looked unfocused, seeming to stare at the darkening pavement the clouds were painting with their drops. “…heroes are human too,” the girl said in a gentle, thoughtful tone. “They’re as susceptible to failing as anyone. They each have their own limits, bias, ethical beliefs, blah blah blah… I mean, there’s a reason the personification of justice wears a blindfold. If they start lashing out, behaving unbecoming of their title-” Sigga continued, narrowing in on some semblance of an answer to Hyou’s question, “-then they’re still the same people, just, maybe, shittier versions of who they could be.”

“It-” the girl suddenly fell silent.

Whatever thought she intended on vocalizing next didn’t seem to manifest. Sigga simply leaned back, holding onto the bench with a white-knuckled grip. Her gaze traveled almost straight up, trying to look at the sky obscured by the blue roof over their heads. Both his and her own words had apparently given the bald fish something to think about. She began to look a little melancholy as she mulled over some of the silent, reflective criticisms her mind now had of itself.

Before the silence could last Sigga abruptly began to speak again. “Hachi- erm, I mean, my grandfather… well, he’s probably the sort of person that would have the best answer for you.” Sigga’s expression took on a bit of mirth as she tried to think of what the wizened fish might say. “He’s old,” Duh. “-but he’s still doing stupid things all the time. Things he immediately regrets. The thing is, he also learns from them; his mistakes. Not everyone does. Especially people who let their emotions rule them; control what they do.” The fish winced at that remark, reminded of the recent destruction of her smartphone.

Sigga finally turned to face her peer again. “Now I don’t know what kind of ass your friend made of themselves-” the amber-eyed sleuth said, giving away the fact she clearly thought Hyou was talking about a specific person, “-but maybe you could help guide them a little. Bring them back to the light side, so to speak. Sometimes people just need someone to tell them they’re being a dumb dummy and to stop being so dumb. You know. Give them a bit of perspective. Just, uh… just maybe using different word than those…”

The bald teen’s ramblings probably weren’t all that useful as advice. Her best guess suggested that the secret subject of their conversation wasn’t a serial killer or psychopath, but someone squandering an opportunity by taking actions unbecoming of a hero. Anything outside that narrow definition was probably beyond the scope of her limited world-view.

The quiet tap tap tap of the girl bouncing the tips of her shoes together was barely audible over the rain. Sigga was now leaning forward a bit, staring at her shoes as she tried to come up with something useful to add.