2,886AN: This chapter is dedicated to Luis Alfonso Mendoza, the Latin American voice actor for Gohan, who tragically lost his life on the 29th of February 2020, almost exactly five years ago, when he, his wife Lourdes Adame, and his brother-in-law Jorge Adame, were shot over a rental dispute. May they rest in peace, and may Mr Mendoza's legacy live on for generations to come.
The Symbol of Peace and Justice
Chapter 21 – A Mutually Beneficial Partnership
Despite his best efforts, Gohan couldn't suppress the yawn that slipped from his lips. Rain always seemed to make him drowsier than normal, and today it was pissing down with a vengeance, water droplets splattering like pellets against the classroom windows.
He felt his eyes getting heavy, but he made a conscious effort to keep them open, making a game of tracing the raindrops' path along the frosted glass. It was oddly artistic, and strangely relaxing, too. It reminded him of those retro screensavers that shot back into prominence every now and then.
"You tired, Son?" Ojiro's voice cut in, breaking Gohan from his musings.
"Little bit," he answered.
"Trouble sleeping?"
"More like partying his ass off these past two days," Kaminari suggested. "Am I right, champ?"
Gohan chuckled. "Something like that." Of course, the mountain of crooks he'd taken out would beg to differ, but their opinions were irrelevant.
"I knew it!" Kaminari laughed. "You cheeky bastard! Where the hell was my invite?"
This time, Gohan took his eyes off the window and faced his classmate proper. "I didn't have your address, so I didn't know where to send the carrier pigeon. Sorry about that."
Kaminari was taken aback. "Wait, those are still a thing? Well shit, I had no idea."
Ojiro snickered, and even Gohan couldn't help but crack a smirk.
Kaminari's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you guys are assholes. Next time I have a party, neither of you are invited!"
Ojiro snorted. "It's not our fault your brain's the size of a peanut."
Kaminari huffed in annoyance before storming back to his seat.
Chuckling at the pettiness, Ojiro turned back to Gohan. "We still have some time before Aizawa comes in, so I'll let you get some rest. You sure as hell look like you need it."
"Appreciate it," Gohan replied with a smile, returning to his window-watching.
More people started filing into the class, and soon the conversation turned to how they'd been getting recognised by the general public since the sports festival's conclusion.
"I caught so many people staring at me! It was super embarrassing!" Hagakure wailed.
"Speak for yourself! I've already given out twelve autographs!" Kirishima boasted.
"Twelve? All I've had was some grade school brats tell me I put in a good effort," Sero whined.
"That's because you lack the grace of one such as myself," Aoyama teased in his typical haughty manner. "I've had people stopping to talk to me every time I stepped out of my house."
Sero growled. "You sure they weren't just mocking you? The most noteworthy thing you did that day was puke your guts out."
"How rude!"
"A couple of younger girls wanted to take selfies with me. It was super sweet," Mina crooned.
Jiro groaned. "And here I've had weirdos wanting me to sign my name on their bodies."
"I've had people telling me I was super cool in the cavalry battle," Shoji remarked.
"Hell yeah, bro! You owned that shit!" Kirishima praised.
"What about you, Son?" Sero inquired, catching Gohan's attention. "You must've been getting swarmed by fans."
Sato barked out a laugh. "You'd think so, but nah. The sneaky bastard's taken to wearing a hoodie and face mask whenever he goes out. People think he's sick, so they avoid him like the plague."
"It helps that I put on a raspy voice," Gohan chimed in. "Really adds to the illusion."
Sato snorted. "Oh man, you guys have to hear it! He sounds exactly like Bobby Hill! Come on, Son – do the voice!"
"No."
Sato pouted. "Spoilsport."
"Who's Bobby Hill?" Kaminari asked.
"Some hick kid from this super old school American cartoon," Sato replied.
"Dude, why do you even know that?" Sero asked, sounding baffled at the prospect.
"Why don't you know it is the more appropriate question here," Sato retorted.
Sero blinked. "Touché."
"So he puts on a fake voice, huh?" Hagakure mused. "Wow, Son, that's super smart."
"Unfortunately, it's not one-hundred percent effective," Gohan admitted. "I look so shifty, that other shifty-looking people have been coming up to me and asking if I know where they can get the good stuff."
"Good stuff?" Midoriya queried.
"Drugs, most likely."
Midoriya looked aghast. "I-I see."
"Eh, it's fine most of the time," Gohan assured his friend. "I just tell them I have nothing for them, and usually that's enough for them to leave me alone."
"And when they don't leave you alone?" Hagakure asked.
"Then I leave them alone. It's not worth getting into an altercation with a junkie just because they're being annoying." Besides, more often than not they had their own mountain of problems to deal with.
"That's very mature of you, Son," Yaoyorozu complimented.
Gohan cracked a smile, but his response died in his throat when the door swung open and Aizawa strode in, making everyone dart to their seats. "Morning. Nice to see you all in one piece," he greeted, his beady eyes scanning the room before stopping on the lone student with visible ailments. "Midoriya, what's the extent of the damage?"
"Physically I feel fine, but there might be some scarring left over," Midoriya replied. "I have one final check up with Recovery Girl after school, and then I'll be able take off this helmet."
Aizawa nodded. "Excellent. That means it should have no impact on this morning's lesson… it's an important one."
There was a collective groan at that announcement, and words like 'pop quiz' and 'hero law theory' floated around the room. Even Gohan frowned at the prospect; as confident as he was in his ability to stay awake, content that dry was bound to make him nod off for good.
Aizawa grinned evilly. "You guys are right to be excited… because today you'll be choosing your hero names!"
As though a switch had been flipped, the atmosphere shifted in an instant, and most of the class roared in approval.
"Hell yeah!"
"I've been waiting for this!"
"It's finally my time to shine!"
"Before that, though," Aizawa bellowed, halting the celebrations, "we need to go over the pro hero drafts I talked about the other day."
The mood changed once more, only this time there was a palpable undercurrent of excitement that was gradually building up.
"As you know, pro heroes all over the country have seen the sports festival, and now it's on them to send out internship requests for students who have piqued their interest," Aizawa explained. "Should you accept one of these requests, you will spend the entirety of next week interning at that hero's agency. Make a good enough impression, that that agency may want to hire you upon your graduation.
"There will be no school during the internship period, but that doesn't mean you have the freedom to slack off. You'll still be representing U.A. – and we have a reputation to uphold. Should there be any misbehaviour or unprofessionalism, your internship can, and most likely will be cancelled in an instant… and there will be severe repercussions."
A few students gulped at that, and Sero shakily raised his hand.
"Yes?" Aizawa queried.
"What happens if you haven't been scouted by any heroes?"
"Good question," Aizawa commended. "If you haven't been scouted by anyone, there's no need to fret. There are forty hero agencies from all over the country that are willing to accept interns from U.A., and it'll be up to you to choose one of them to intern at."
Sero eased up a bit, clearly satisfied by the answer.
Aizawa cleared his throat. "Any other questions?" At the resulting silence, he clicked his pointer, and a series of numbers appeared on the board. "Here are the results of the draft."
As though their breath was snatched where they sat, the class fell silent.
Mina was the first to break it. "Wh-whoa!" she gasped.
"H-holy crap!" Sero stammered.
"That can't be…" Kaminari murmured, rubbing his eyes.
"Oh yes it can!" Sato squealed.
"It's over nine thousand!" Kirishima roared.
Gohan blinked away his shock, now wide awake. If it was a mistake of some sort, Aizawa would've corrected it, but his silence confirmed what they already knew.
CLASS A DRAFT PICK TOTALS
SON: 9,034
TODOROKI: 3,251
MIDORIYA: 2,476
BAKUGO: 2,474
ASHIDO: 53
IIDA: 41
YAOYOROZU: 35
KIRISHIMA: 30
URARAKA: 21
SATO: 7
Aizawa scratched his stubble. "This is… unprecedented. Since the sports festival, we've had hero agencies from all over the world trying to scout you, Son. This does happen sometimes, but we usually disregard them because it's too much of a hassle. However, given the abnormally high volume of requests, and your overall competency, we decided to make an exception just this once."
Gohan was genuinely speechless. "I-I don't know what to say, sensei."
"Ultimately, the choice is yours," Aizawa continued. "Just know, however, that if you do go overseas, you'll be entirely in your agency's care. We won't be able to offer you support should you need it until you return to Japan."
Gohan's brow furrowed. "I'll need to put some thought into this."
"Understandable," Aizawa replied with a nod. "Let me know when you've made a decision. You have until the weekend, so two days from now. Same goes for the rest of you."
"Understood, sensei."
"Son I get, but how did Todoroki score so high? He didn't even make the semis," Kaminari pondered, triggering another round of excited chatter.
"It's mostly due to my father's influence," Todoroki spat, a distinct bitterness to his tone.
Bakugo, unsurprisingly, was seething. "How the fuck did Deku score higher than me!? I beat his ass!"
"Maybe because you're a safety hazard to have around," Tsuyu remarked calmly, to which Bakugo growled.
"You also looked like a feral ape chained to the podium," Sero commented with a chuckle. "Makes sense more hero agencies didn't want to risk you tearing up their offices."
Several students laughed at that and Bakugo – surprisingly for once – didn't bite back. He just slumped in his seat and stewed silently.
"Those pros have no eye for talent!" Aoyama whimpered.
"Fifty-three, though? That's so much more than I expected!" Mina cheered.
Kirishima laughed. "Naturally! You kicked ass out there! It's a bit less than I expected, but I'm cool with thirty!"
As the class devolved into further discussion, Gohan cast a glance towards Midoriya, who was staring slack-jawed at the board. He smiled fondly at his friend, feeling a sort of… pride, perhaps? It was an unfamiliar sensation, but a thoroughly pleasant one. Was this how it felt to be a sensei, and have your student succeed? If so, he could definitely get used to it.
"You're all excited now, but your internships won't amount to squat if your hero names lack any oomph to them," the assertive voice of Midnight suddenly declared, the woman herself waltzing into class and positioning herself beside Aizawa. Hands on her hips, she levied a confident smirk at them all. "Fortunately, you'll have me here to steer you down the right path."
"Indeed, Midnight will be assessing the suitability of your names. I'm no good at that stuff myself," Aizawa grumbled, retreating behind his desk.
"The name you choose must project a certain image – something that reflects who you are as both a person and a hero," Midnight continued. "Take All Might for example. It's a simple name, yet it exudes strength, confidence and reliability, and gives regular folks something to be inspired by. That should be your benchmark."
She grabbed a stack of mini whiteboards and handed them out to the students in the front row. "Take one and pass it to the person behind you. You have fifteen minutes to come up with your hero name. After that, you'll share it with the class."
A round of excited murmurs swept through the class, but Gohan didn't share in it; he already knew what his hero name was going to be. It was something he'd thought long and hard about over the years, and after numerous revisions, countless hours of head scratching, and copious amounts of internet research, he had what he felt was perfect.
So, after receiving his whiteboard and passing it along, he whipped out a marker and jotted it down. Once he was done, he set the whiteboard on his desk and clasped his fingers behind his head, feeling a small smile grace his lips. It was one thing to think about his hero name, but it was another thing entirely to make it official.
He glanced at the clock out of the corner of his eye, and couldn't help but grimace. Fifteen minutes was an awfully long time to sit and do nothing.
"Who wants to share first?" Midnight asked.
Gohan, Mina and Aoyama raised their hands, and Midnight was taken aback. "The champ, eh? Come on up then, Son, let's hear it," she said, beckoning him over.
Gohan made his way to the front of the room, keeping his board hidden from prying eyes; he could already spot a couple of his more impatient classmates craning their necks to try and see what he'd written.
Taking his place beside Midnight, he took a deep breath, then flipped over his board. "The All-in-One Hero: Saiyaman."
Some students oohed, others aahed, and Midnight scratched her cheek, looking more curious than anything. "Interesting. Is there a meaning behind it?"
"All-in-one is a reference to all the different things I can do with my Quirk," Gohan replied, to which Midnight nodded.
"Makes sense. And Saiyaman?"
At that, Gohan couldn't help but crack a grin. "I just thought it was fitting. Saiya is an anagram of yasai, and Gohan means cooked rice… so they kinda go together. As for the Saiyaman part, I figured it's close enough to Superman to sound cool." He neglected to mention that he'd briefly considered calling himself the Great Saiyaman, but decided against it because it sounded too pompous.
A wide grin split Midnight's lips. "Excellent reasoning – I wholeheartedly approve! You may return to your seat, Saiyaman!"
Gohan did just that, receiving a few cheers and pats on the back from his peers, and feeling quite giddy at the positive reception. He genuinely wasn't expecting that.
As he walked past Midoriya's desk, he thought he caught a glimpse of shock on his face, but it was fleeting enough that he concluded he was imagining it. What was real, however, was the approving thumbs up his green-haired friend sent his way, to which Gohan nodded in gratitude.
Truthfully, he was fortunate to have found a legitimate explanation to justify the name Saiyaman; he couldn't exactly admit it was an homage to his alien heritage.
Aoyama was the next person to go up. "I shall be the Shining Hero: I Cannot Stop Twinkling!"
"That's a whole ass sentence!" Kaminari jeered, earning a round of snickers that did nothing to faze the flamboyant blond.
"It'll be easier to say if you take out the 'I' and contract 'cannot' into 'can't'," Midnight suggested.
Aoyama clicked his fingers in agreement. "Amazing! Thank you, mademoiselle!"
Mina was up next. "The Ridley Hero: Alien Queen!"
Midnight crossed her arms. "Really? That's sounds a bit too scary for a hero. Also, the Ridley part makes no sense."
Mina looked distraught. "But-but he directed the first Alien movie!"
"And how many people are going to understand the reference?" Midnight pressed.
"Come on, sensei… please?" Mina pleaded.
"No! Now sit back-"
"Umm, sorry for interrupting, sensei, but can I make a suggestion?" Gohan cut in, wavering ever so slightly when Midnight shot him a glare.
"Go on."
"What if Ashido only changes the epithet?" he suggested. "I personally think Alien Queen is quite unique, and fits her Quirk really well. Yeah, it might be a bit creepy if you know the exact context… but Class B's homeroom teacher has an alias that literally references a Romanian tyrant known for his cruelty."
Midnight stroked her chin in thought. "You… have a point. Alright, Ashido, any other ideas?"
Mina's gaping mouth snapped shut, as if she hadn't expected to be put on the spot. "Oh! Umm, h-how about the Acid Hero: Alien Queen?"
"That fits," Midnight conceded with a huff. "It's quick, concise, has some alliteration, and I suppose it isn't exactly fair to assume the word 'alien' automatically has negative connotations. You may sit down, Ashido."
"Yes!" Mina squealed, pumping her fist in the air. She shot Gohan a warm smile, then hopped back to her seat.
Class continued like normal after that, with a conveyor belt of students going up to announce their hero names.
Froppy was cute, if unusual, and seemed to fit Tsuyu rather well.
Red Riot was suitably badass for someone like Kirishima… but Gohan wondered whether it might constitute a copyright infringement of sorts.
Creati was quite clever – exactly what he expected from Yaoyorozu.
Gohan felt his pocket vibrate and sneakily dug out his phone, only to see a text from Mina.
Thank you! 3
He grinned before typing out a quick reply.
Alien Queen sounds badass. I'm glad she relented.
Cellophane, Tentacole and Earphone Jack were fine; they did what they were supposed to.
Tailman and Invisible Girl were a tad basic, but hey, so were Superman and Batman.
Sugarman was almost in the same ballpark, but it was close enough to both Saiyaman and Superman that Gohan quite liked it.
Anima was… strange, but so was Koda.
Chargebolt was surprisingly cool, and displayed a level of creativity Gohan hadn't expected from Kaminari.
Tsukuyomi and Uravity were awesome aliases, but that came as no surprise.
Todoroki and Iida opting to go with their first names was an interesting choice. Gohan didn't quite know what to make of it, but he respected the simplicity, and was sure they both had their reasons.
Midoriya choosing to go with Deku was unexpected, but after he justified his decision, it made a lot more sense. It was also very admirable, and made Gohan's burgeoning respect for his green-haired friend surge even more.
And then there was Bakugo…
"King Explosion Murder!"
"Hell no!"
"Lord Explosion Murder?"
"That's just as bad!"
"King Explosion Murder God!"
"For the love of all that is holy, Bakugo, go sit down and think this through properly! You're going to give me an aneurism!"
The rest of the class laughed as their resident psychopath retreated to his seat, fury etched across his face.
It took a further four tries for Bakugo and Midnight to reach a compromise, and Gohan couldn't help but wonder whether her eventual acceptance of Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was an admission of defeat.
Regardless, it was none of his business, nor did he really care.
He did care when Aizawa dumped a book the size of the Bible in front of him and told him it was a list of all the hero agencies who'd scouted him… but the prospect of delving into what looked like a literal encyclopedia was too daunting, so he decided to put it off until later.
As the lesson resumed like normal, Gohan couldn't help but let out a yawn. All the adrenaline from earlier had worn off, and the fatigue he'd accumulated from two straight days of overzealous vigilantism was finally taking its toll.
As he felt his eyelids droop, he gritted his teeth and pried them open with his fingers. Succumbing to sleep right now was simply not an option.
Midoriya had an appointment with Recovery Girl right after school to take off his helmet, and Gohan would never forgive himself if he missed being there for his friend on account of having detention, as punishment for nodding off in class.
It would be a challenge, no doubt, but it was one he was fully up for – and he was confident he could overcome it. If he'd stared down Space Hitler on an alien planet as a five-year-old without flinching, overcoming the sweet embrace of sleep should be a piece of cake in comparison… right?
"Are you ok, Son? You look like a zombie?"
"I feel like one, but I'll manage," Gohan groused, smiling despite his weariness. Fending off sleep had been a far larger hurdle than he'd anticipated, but he pulled it off in the end.
Midoriya still looked mildly concerned, but thankfully didn't pry any further.
Uraraka, on the other hand, couldn't keep her curiosity in check. "What on earth did you do last night?"
"I went, ahh, sightseeing in Kyoto, and didn't get home until super late. Kinda lost track of time, ya know?" Gohan replied with a chuckle.
Of course, he neglected to mention that the sightseeing trip had taken a slight detour when he had to foil a group of German terrorists trying to rob a mega-rich multinational corporation, but hey, arbitrary details.
"Now come on, let's hurry before the rain starts up again."
Not needing to be told twice, his two companions picked up the pace, and before too long they found themselves before Recovery Girl's regular office in the U.A. infirmary.
Midoriya stepped up to the door and took a deep breath. He paused as if unsure, lips pursing in worry, but a gentle pat from Uraraka gave him the push he needed to knock.
Within seconds the door opened, and Recovery Girl's smiling face was there to greet them. "Welcome, Midoriya! You're right on time! Son and Uraraka too, huh? What a pleasant surprise." She glanced around. "No Sato this time?"
"He had plans," Gohan revealed, feeling a surge of pride in his best friend. Yuki from the ice cream place had finally agreed to go out with him; apparently he'd impressed her enough at the sports festival enough that she decided to give him a chance.
"I see. Well, come on over and take a seat, Midoriya," Recovery Girl remarked, gesturing to the patient's chair in the middle of the room.
Midoriya did just that, dragging his feet ever so slightly.
Recovery Girl grabbed a clipboard and stood before her patient, scanning him from head to toe. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," Midoriya replied.
"Any pain?"
He shook his head. "No."
"What have you been doing these past two days?"
Midoriya exhaled sharply before answering. "Staying home and resting. I've been reading a lot, too."
"Good, good. Any exercise, or anything that worked up a sweat?" Recovery Girl continued, jotting down notes.
"Nothing of the sort."
"Alright then, let's get that bucket off your head," she exclaimed, setting aside her clipboard and grabbing the sides of the helmet. Midoriya shut his eyes.
Gohan felt his heartbeat quicken, while Uraraka clasped her hands in front of her mouth.
Midoriya's helmet slowly slid up his head, the movement steady and precise, until it came off entirely, and Uraraka let out a gasp. "Deku…" she whispered.
Midoriya's eyes gradually slid open, his brow creased in concern. "H-how bad is it?"
"Bad is… a matter of perspective," Gohan supplied calmy, leaning in to take a better look. "Honestly, man, I think you look badass."
From a distance it was quite faint, but from close up, it was definitely noticeable: a burn mark above the right brow, partially obscured by Midoriya's green bangs, that trailed across the eye itself, becoming thinner and more jagged before ending at the cheekbone.
"It… looks good," Uraraka added shyly.
Midoriya's cheeks reddened as Recovery Girl handed him a mirror. He moved it around, trying to survey the scar in its entirety, his eyes wide the whole time. "Wh-whoa!"
Gohan breathed a sigh of relief, glad that his friend was taking it well. He honestly didn't know what to expect, but he had the utmost faith in Recovery Girl and Doctor Shuzenji. Ideally Midoriya would've been left with zero scarring, but the actual outcome was probably the best they could've hoped for.
Recovery Girl assessed the scene with a measured gaze. "The severity will fade over time, but the scar itself will never go away completely. There are surgical options we can try, like skin grafts, laser-"
"I'll leave it as is," Midoriya cut in brightly. "It's a good reminder of how far I've come."
"Huh?" Uraraka asked, confused.
Midoriya set down the mirror and grinned at the girl. "I've always admired how strong Kacchan is, and the fact that he pushed himself so hard to beat me just… it makes me really proud of what I've accomplished so far."
"You're a strange one, young man, but I can't say it isn't endearing," Recovery Girl commented with a chuckle, to which Midoriya blushed.
Gohan scratched the back of his head, trying to keep his frown in check. "That's a commendable attitude to have," he conceded, even if he didn't understand it himself. Had he become more jaded over the years?
Uraraka looked even more conflicted, scrunching her face as though deep in thought, before relenting with a shaky smile. "If that's how you feel, Deku, then I'll support you."
"Thanks, guys. It means a lot," Midoriya mumbled, looking genuinely grateful. "And thank you, Recovery Girl. If not for you and your brother, I'm sure the damage would've been much worse."
"Of that I have no doubt," Recovery Girl admitted seriously. "I'll need to speak to the school's events committee to ensure there's better refereeing for future sports festivals. You're all children, for crying out loud. There's zero reason for you to be engaging in near-deathmatches with each other."
"My thoughts exactly!" Gohan agreed. Bakugo, the crowd, the event organisers, even Midnight herself – they all shared some degree of blame. What happened to Midoriya could not be allowed to repeat itself.
"I'm glad some of you youngsters have some sense," Recovery Girl remarked, her features softening slightly. "But, it's no use crying over spilt milk; what's done is done. This is a happy moment, and you lot should go off and celebrate Midoriya's recovery."
"I'd like that," Uraraka commented.
"Yeah, sounds good," Midoriya added, hopping off the chair and looking a bit too eager to leave. "You cool with that, Son?"
"Of course," Gohan replied, already halfway to the door. As much as he admired Recovery Girl, the less time he spent in hospitals, the better.
Bidding the nurse a final farewell, the trio left the room and headed for the exit.
"So, Son, do you know what you're going to do for your internship?" Midoriya inquired while they walked.
Gohan shook his head. "Don't have a clue. I took one look at the behemoth Aizawa dumped on my desk and decided I didn't have the mental faculties to deal with it at that moment."
Uraraka giggled. "It was a massive book. Everyone was caught off guard."
"I'm just glad they perfected paper recycling these past few decades," Gohan grumbled. "It would've sucked if a bunch of trees had died to make something so ridiculous."
"That's true. People did use to be a lot more wasteful," Midoriya supplied.
"I know Uraraka's going with Gunhead – great decision by the way – but have you decided who you're going to be interning with?" Gohan asked.
"Not yet," Midoriya answered. "To be honest, I wasn't expecting to get more than a handful of requests. I'll need to do some research and ask our teachers for advice."
"That's smart. It's good to be prepared," Gohan praised.
Upon exiting the infirmary, the three friends found themselves bathed by the sun's golden rays, peeking out from behind the grim, grey clouds.
"Wow, that cleared up nicely," Uraraka commented, shielding her eyes from the light.
"Yeah, more good news for a change," Gohan concurred.
"Hey, Son, if you're not busy, do you want to go over your internship options now?" Midoriya proposed, drawing the demi-Saiyan's gaze. "N-not the whole thing, of course, but I can't lie, I've been super curious to see what your options are."
"I wasn't going to say anything but… me too," Uraraka added slyly.
Gohan chuckled. "That so? Well, I guess we can have a look. Doesn't hurt to get more than one opinion."
The trio found a nearby table that wasn't wet and took a seat around it, Gohan on one side and his friends on the other. One of the good things about U.A.'s campus was that trees were plentiful, so even in rainy weather, it wasn't too hard to find cover.
Setting his bag beside him, Gohan pulled out the mother of all scout reports and plopped it on the table, making its wooden foundations shake.
"Damn, you weren't kidding about that thing," Midoriya observed. Curiosity getting the better of him, he reached out to pick up the book, only to put it down straight away. "Wow! It feels like a bunch of bricks glued together!"
Positioning the book so all of them could see, Gohan flipped it open to the first page, and Midoriya gasped.
OFFERS FOR SON 1/280
JAPAN
Endeavour Agency
Hawks Agency
Genius Agency
Edgeshot Office
Crust Agency
Mirko
Yoroi Musha Office
Ryukyu Agency
Gang Orca Agency
Gohan rubbed his eyes, wondering if he'd read that right; those were some massive names he was seeing.
Midoriya, on the other hand, couldn't contain his shock. "Th-th-th-that's basically the entire top ten!" he stammered.
"Look here where it says 'Japan'," Uraraka added, pointing to the top of the page. "Does that mean they've done separate lists for all the different countries?"
"Let me see!" Midoriya exclaimed, grabbing the book and flicking through it. "You were right, Uraraka! I'm on the UK section right now, but they have sections for the US, Canada, Australia, and even South Africa and Brazil! And Colombia, too! Wow! There's even more countries after that! And look – they even have a brief description of who's in these agencies and the kind of work they do!"
As Midoriya continued rambling to a stunned Uraraka, Gohan interlaced his fingers and took a deep breath. This… was far bigger than he'd expected, and he needed time – and a clear head – to process it all.
Midoriya finally set the book down, then inhaled through the nose and exhaled out the mouth. Having looked to have regained some semblance of composure, he turned to Gohan with a most inquisitive expression. "Besides All Might, who's retired from taking interns, you pretty much have free pick of whichever hero you want."
Gohan blinked. "I… see."
"Are you ok, Son?" Uraraka asked quietly. "That must've been a lot to take in."
"You got that right," Gohan replied with a wry chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, uh, I'm fine, thanks for asking. Just a bit overwhelmed, that's all."
"Sorry if I, umm, went a bit overboard there," Midoriya expressed, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.
"Don't worry about it," Gohan assured kindly. "It's nice to see someone get excited over it. To be perfectly honest, I was dreading opening that thing."
Midoriya let out a nervous laugh. "So, do you have a preference? Like, do you want to stay in Japan, or do you want to go overseas?"
"I can't say for sure," Gohan confessed. "There are pros and cons to both. One the one hand, it'd be nice to see more of the world and help fight crime in foreign countries. Plus, it'd be a good way to build connections. On the other hand… I'd miss all my friends." And he'd have a much harder time keeping them safe if the need arose.
"If you do end up going overseas, are you worried about the language barrier?" Uraraka wondered.
"Nah, my English is pretty good. Aside from the stuff they taught us in middle school, I took a bunch of extra classes, too," Gohan revealed. As English was essentially the common tongue of Planet Earth, it was something he deemed a priority to master. He would've liked to learn Spanish as well, but he just didn't have the time.
"Oh, that's cool. My English is… passable, I guess," Uraraka admitted sheepishly.
"If you need some pointers, I'd be happy to help you out," Midoriya supplied with a smile. "I read a lot of American comic books as a kid, so I'd say I can hold a conversation pretty well in English."
"I'd like that," Uraraka replied, her blush becoming a tad more pronounced.
Gohan grinned, immediately sensing an opening. He felt a yawn coming, and made sure to exaggerate it. "Sounds like you guys have your afternoons sorted. As for me, I should really head home and get some sleep. I feel like I'm about to pass out."
His friends' eyes widened in alarm, and he suppressed the urge to laugh.
"You gonna be ok going alone?" Midoriya blurted out, unable to hide his nervousness. "I wouldn't want you to get ambushed by reporters again."
"Yeah, I came prepared this time," Gohan declared with a chuckle, pulling out a cap, face mask and sunglasses from his bag before putting them on. "There we go," he rasped in his decoy voice, making the pair's jaws drop.
"Wow! You don't sound like yourself at all!" Uraraka exclaimed.
"Are you sure that's going to work?" Midoriya queried. "I mean, you can't tell it's you, but you still look a bit suspicious… like you have something to hide."
"Guess we'll find out," Gohan replied, shoving the scout report into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "If anyone asks, I'll just tell them I have a facial deformity from my Quirk."
"I guess that would work," Midoriya mused.
Gohan smiled behind his mask. "Well, I'm off. See you guys tomorrow. Good luck with your English lessons. And hey, Midoriya, if you guys get hungry, go give Enzo's Bakery a try. Tell him I sent you, and he'll give you a discount."
"I'll, uhh, keep that in mind. Th-thanks, Son," Midoriya stuttered.
"See you later," Uraraka mumbled, giving him a wave.
With a wave of his own, Gohan departed. Before leaving the campus, he looked back at his friends and saw them sitting apart, facing away from each other, with nervousness etched on both their faces. It was a sight he couldn't help but chuckle at.
Was someone who'd never been in a relationship before in any way qualified to play matchmaker? Probably not. But Midoriya and Uraraka were one of those rare couples that just made sense, even to a romantically illiterate dunce like him. They'd get there eventually – he knew that for certain. But, if the opportunity to push them closer presented itself, he'd gladly it.
Speaking of romance… he whipped out his phone and shot Sato a text.
How'd the date go?
The fact that he hadn't heard anything was mildly concerning, but maybe that was a good sign? Maybe the date was going so swimmingly, Sato had no reason to go on his phone? Gohan sure as hell hoped that was the case.
Pocketing both his phone and his hands, he stepped through the gate and did a cursory scan of his surroundings. To his immense relief, there was no one suspicious around: no reporters, no rabid fans, and no creeps. There was a group of dodgy middle schoolers loitering not too far from his usual take-off spot, but if looking shifty was a crime, half of U.A. would be locked up.
He'd just walked past the group when a voice called out to him. "Hey, guy from U.A.!"
Turning around, he saw the speaker was a rat heteromorph in an orange shirt and blue shorts. "Can I help you?" he rasped.
"Do you know Iron Son?"
Gohan cringed; that was a name the younger generation had anointed him on social media. Fortunately, it hadn't yet become mainstream. "Nope, sorry. I'm in the general course."
"Aww, this guy's a nobody!" Ratboy whined to his friends, who scowled in agreement. "Come on, guys, we'll skip last period tomorrow and come here before school ends! We'll definitely catch him then!"
'Good luck with that,' Gohan mused, resisting the urge to snort.
Shortly after the kids had run off, he felt his pocket vibrate, and moved to check his phone.
Shit.
Gohan grimaced. That sounded ominous.
You want to talk about it?
The reply was instant.
No.
Scratching the back of his head, Gohan was debating how to respond, when his phone buzzed again.
I want to get kebabs.
Now that made him raise an eyebrow, so he typed out another reply.
Usual spot?
Yeah.
Alright, see you in a bit.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Gohan couldn't help but sigh. Sato was really looking forward to that date. Hoping his best friend wasn't hurting too bad, he set off for the kebab shop at a brisk pace, his tiredness quickly forgotten.
The following school day sat on a Friday and was fairly uneventful, save for the morning session where the rest of the class reacted to Midoriya's new scar. Most people were glad the damage wasn't more severe, while the more rambunctious 1-A students – Sato, Kirishima and Kaminari – echoed Gohan's earlier sentiments that the scar was badass. Bakugo, strangely, was silent the entire time.
Saturday was even more drab, and while Gohan would've normally enjoyed a day of stress-free learning, he'd yet to figure out what he wanted to do for his internship, and his indecision was gnawing at him. Everyone else in the class had decided: Sato ended up going with Kirishima to a lesser-known hero called Fourth Kind in the Hiroshima Prefecture, while Midoriya opted to intern with Gran Torino, someone Gohan had never heard of before, but was apparently All Might's mentor.
So, upon the conclusion of the school day, he went straight back to his apartment and hopped on his computer. The deadline for internship submissions was nine in the evening, so he had just enough time to figure something out.
The more he scoured the web, the more appealing the idea of going abroad became. Japan was his home, and he loved living here, but the crime rate had gone down significantly since the Golden Blur's emergence. And, as much as he'd worry about his friends if he left them behind, this round of internships only lasted a week. Surely they could keep themselves out of trouble for one measly week.
Australia, Canada, the US and the UK were appealing options initially, but the more he pondered it, the more he realised interning in one of them would be somewhat of a wasted opportunity. All four countries had positive relations with Japan, and Gohan had no doubt that if he continued down his current path, the opportunity to travel to one of them for work would present itself.
South America, on the other hand, was one of the places he was strongly considering. It had a rich and vibrant culture, friendly people and amazing food, but the region was plagued by a severe drug problem that had existed long before the first Quirk ever surfaced. Since Quirks became more prominent, and heroes and villains overtook sports stars as the region's most beloved – and hated – public figures, that longstanding drug problem had devolved into something far more sinister.
Gohan had a lot of faith in his abilities, but he knew making a dent in the South American drug trade required a level of finesse far beyond what he was currently capable of. But stopping street-level crimes, and making life a little bit easier for normal people? He could do that just fine.
The problem was… his Spanish and Portuguese were limited to greetings, farewells, and ordering barbecue. While the pro heroes offering the internship probably spoke English, the language barrier would prevent him from being able to properly mingle with the rest of the community, and he wasn't sure he was prepared for an entire week of being an even bigger outcast than he already was.
He glanced at the clock and sighed, seeing that it was half past five. Progress was being made, but it was slow. Still, he had time.
Another strong contender, if a bit unorthodox, was South Africa. He wasn't too familiar with the cuisine, but it was a beautiful country, with a long, storied and often turbulent history. Abnormally high levels of crime had been a thorn in South Africa's side since the twentieth century, and changing of the zeitgeist did little to quell the problem.
While racial segregation had long since become a thing of the past, the wealth disparity that had constantly plagued the country had only been exacerbated by the emergence of Quirks – and that was where most of the problems stemmed from.
The top heroes prospered financially, while lower ranked heroes struggled to make ends meet, and over half of the general public lived in poverty. It was a tragic situation, and one which made turning to crime such an appealing prospect for the lower classes. It also resulted in a strong anti-hero sentiment.
Now, was the hatred towards heroes warranted? Gohan had no clue – he wasn't qualified or informed enough to make that judgement. But the thought of seeing the problems firsthand, and doing whatever he could to help make a positive change, no matter how small? That was something he could get behind. The fact that much of the country spoke English was an added bonus.
So far, South Africa was in the lead. Cracking his knuckles and taking a sip of water, Gohan typed 'Mexico' into the search engine, only for his doorbell to ring.
Brow furrowing in confusion, he turned towards the door. Who in the world could that be? It definitely wasn't Sato; his best friend may have been a troll, but he knew he'd be busy with the internship research tonight, and he wouldn't dare disrupt that.
The doorbell rang again, and this time a frown found its way to Gohan's face. No one other than Sato, Doctor Shuzenji, and the U.A. faculty knew his address. There was also his landlord, but he didn't count because he never rang the bell. If he had a problem, he'd bang his fist on the door until it was opened.
After a third ring, Gohan stood up and walked towards it. Steeling his features, he turned the lock, then twisted the knob and pulled.
"About damn time! If I'd waited any longer I swear I would've gone grey!"
Gohan's jaw dropped. 'What the fuck!?'
Before him stood a dark-skinned woman of average height, clad in a white leotard with purple trim that showed off an impressive physique, and a pair of thigh-high purple boots. Flowing white hair fell past her thighs, two fluffy rabbit ears jutted from her head, and a pair of white gloved hands rested on her hips.
A devilish smirk adorning her pretty yet piercing features, the seventh-ranked hero Mirko's simmering scarlet eyes looked past the stunned demi-Saiyan, and she whistled. "You wouldn't expect it given the dump outside, but this is a nice place you got here."
Gohan blinked, finally snapping out of his stupor. "Umm, thanks?"
Nudging her way past him, Mirko stepped inside and slid off her boots, then laid down on his couch with her feet up, the tensed position accentuating every contour of her phenomenally well-defined legs. Gohan gulped, hastily averting his gave.
"Aren't you gonna be a good host and offer me a drink?" she asked, flicking through channels on the TV.
"My bad, I wasn't expecting company," Gohan apologised, more out of formality than anything. "Would you like some tea? I also have water and cordial."
Mirko scrunched her nose. "You got any beer?"
"No, ma'am. I'm too young to buy alcohol."
"Oh yeah. Tea's fine then."
Figuring his uninvited guest wasn't picky, Gohan chucked the ingredients for mint tea into a kettle and poured in enough water for two. In the background, he heard a "meep meep" as Road Runner ducked a gunshot, then sped off from a fuming Wile E. Coyote. Mirko chuckled.
After setting the kettle to boil, Gohan turned back to his visitor and scratched the back of his head. "Umm, sorry to interrupt, but what exactly are you doing here?"
"You got the message that I want you as an intern, right?" Mirko asked, her gaze not shifting from the screen.
"I have."
"So why haven't you responded?"
"I've been weighing up my options," Gohan admitted awkwardly. "I have a, ahh, lot of options."
"That so?" Mirko exclaimed, finally facing his way. She grinned. "Well, you can forget about all those other chumps, because you're with me now."
Gohan frowned. "I haven't made my final decision yet."
"Look, kid, as far as I'm concerned, you've just hit the jackpot," Mirko stated confidently, clenching her fist for emphasis. "I've never taken on an intern before. Never planned to, either. Hell, I don't even have any sidekicks. But I see a lot of myself in you, and I want to help draw out your potential."
"You see a lot of yourself in me? How?" Gohan asked, confused.
"Because I work alone, and that's the way I like it. I get the same vibe from you."
Gohan couldn't believe it; she'd pegged him straight away. "You're… not exactly wrong."
Mirko's grin morphed into a smirk. "Look at it this way: you get to tag along with me all day, helping me beat up bad guys. Doesn't that sound a lot more fun than some stuffy old dude bossing you around all day, making you do stacks of paperwork that have been piling up for months, or cramming boring ass lectures down your throat, just so he has an excuse to sound smart?"
"Wait, that actually happens?"
"Most of the time, yeah. What, you didn't seriously think they'd chuck a kid with only a month of training into the deep end of hero work, and risk being backlisted by U.A. if something goes wrong?" At Gohan's sheepish expression, Mirko snorted. "Figures. You got heart, kid, but there's more to this business than just mowing down villains. It took me longer than I'd like to admit to realise that, and that's why I work alone."
Gohan crossed his arms. As amazing as all this sounded, there had to be a catch. "Let's say I agree to this. What's in it for you?"
Mirko's smirk turned a tad feral. "Playing hard to get, huh? I like it. To put it bluntly, the world needs more heroes like you and me – heroes who aren't afraid of a bit of red tape and just want to get shit done."
"And you have no qualms about chucking me into the deep end, as you put it?"
"Nope!"
Gohan felt his limbs slacken, and he couldn't help the excited shudder that coursed through him. "I can't lie, you've piqued my curiosity."
"And you've piqued mine!" Mirko laughed. "Believe me, I never thought I'd be taking on an intern, but here we are."
"I'm touched," Gohan confessed, feeling a bit of heat rise to his cheeks.
"As you should be!" Mirko exclaimed. She whipped out her phone. "What's your number?"
Gohan supplied it, and his phone chimed shortly after.
"Just texted you my address. Be there at nine thirty Monday morning – and not a minute earlier," she warned. "I like to sleep in on Mondays."
That was fair. "Got it."
"Good man. Now, how's that tea coming along?"
"On its way," Gohan replied, pulling out a pair of mugs.
He was halfway through filling the second mug when the distant wail of police sirens caught his attention, and he instinctively swivelled to their direction; Mirko had done the same, her rabbit ears twitching in kind.
A sly grin spreading across her lips, she hopped off the couch and shoved on her boots, then sprang to the balcony. "We'll need to do a raincheck on that tea – duty calls! See ya next Monday, kid! Don't be late! Or early! Or else!"
Gohan had no time to respond as the seventh-ranked hero leapt off the balcony. The next thing he saw was a retreating, rabbit-eared figure bounding from building to building before vanishing entirely.
He blinked in bemusement. "Huh. Alright then."
Despite Mirko's impassioned pitch, he hadn't officially confirmed his acceptance but… this could work. Almost too well, in fact.
Setting down the half-full mug, he pursed his lips as a thought flitted through his head that gave him pause. A second thought came, and then a third.
Taking a seat on the couch, Gohan leaned forward and stroked his chin, brow furrowed in concentration. "Hmm."
Mirko's unexpected appearance had highlighted a distinct wrinkle in his earlier plans. Despite his best intentions, he was thinking on a purely superficial level, and it annoyed him that he'd been so short-sighted.
Had he gone overseas, he wouldn't be able to make anywhere near as big of an impact as he'd like as Son Gohan. He'd get a taste of the hero culture, sure, and perhaps help stop a few crimes, but no sane human being with a duty of care would let a foreign student and guest – of U.A. at that – put themselves at risk. Hell, even generic street crimes might be deemed too dangerous if the country was riddled with gun violence. No… the most likely outcome was that he'd spend the week being coddled like some pampered prince, and the prospect was enough to make him want to puke.
He'd definitely be able to make an impact as the Blur, but the appearance of such a vigilante on foreign soil, at the exact same time U.A.'s golden child jetted off for work experience, would raise a lot of uncomfortable questions. Even if he stayed in his base form and covered up like a ninja, the Blur's modus operandi was far too distinct, and if someone with an eye for detail and vested interest in vigilantism took a closer look, the last thing he wanted was for them to connect the dots.
The more he tried to rationalise it, the more he realised Mirko really was his best option. Even compared the other Japanese heroes, the level of freedom and responsibility she was offering was simply too good to pass up. Her earlier boasting wasn't just hyperbole; he really did feel like he'd hit the jackpot.
Reclining on the couch, Gohan let out a long sigh, instantly feeling the weight slide off his shoulders. Truth be told, despite his self-belief and confidence, there was always a marginal hint of apprehension whenever he thought about interning, whether overseas or at some local agency. And, try as he might to suppress it in the deep, dark depths of his consciousness, there would always be a nagging voice buried within that believed all this was beneath him.
When he thought about interning with Mirko, though? That voice was silent, and all he felt was excitement.
Exhaling sharply to try and reign in his enthusiasm, he got up and took a sip of his tea. It was no longer piping hot, but it was still warm enough to soothe even the iciest of souls, and glancing at Mirko's half-full mug, he couldn't help but frown. While he could've easily drank her share, it would've been a waste. The act of drinking tea, to him at least, was most enjoyable when in good company.
Setting down his mug, he pulled out his phone, rang Sato's number, and put the phone to his ear.
It rang twice before his best friend answered. "Yo."
"What you up to?" Gohan asked.
"Well, I was just about to start masturbating, but then you called, so whatever you need, make it quick."
Gohan gagged. "Ok, first off, I did not need to know that. Second, I wanted to see if you were free to come round for some tea."
"What's the occasion?" Sato inquired, unperturbed.
"I've decided what to do for my internship… or rather, my internship was decided for me," Gohan revealed.
"What? How?"
"She pretty much came to my apartment and forced me into it."
"SHE!?" Sato screamed, making Gohan wince.
"That's all I'm gonna say over the phone," he grumbled.
There was a brief pause. "I'll be there in five minutes."
The call went dead, leaving Gohan with an obnoxious ringing in his ear. Hoping it wouldn't take too long to go away, he grabbed his mug and took a sip. Maybe he should've rang Midoriya with the news instead; he also would've flipped out, no question about it, but probably not in a way that left him half-deaf.
Taking another sip, Gohan frowned. Now that he thought about it, the only friend he'd ever had over his apartment was Sato. Maybe it was time to change that.
Come Monday morning, Gohan found himself at the foot of a fancy apartment building in one of the bougier parts of Tokyo, staring up at the higher floors. After double checking his phone to confirm he had the right address, he couldn't help but scratch the back of his head. He'd only met Mirko once, but this place really didn't match the vibe he got from her.
Then again, appearances could be deceiving… which was something he knew all too well, given the disgusted stares he was currently receiving from well-dressed businesspeople and the like.
He'd donned his usual outdoors disguise – a hoodie, long pants and facemask – so as to avoid people recognising him from the sports festival, but here in Azabu, that just made him stand out like a vegan at a butcher's convention. The briefcase he was carrying wasn't helping either. At least the passers-by were giving him plenty of space; they probably though he was diseased and contagious.
Still, he wasn't keen to stay here much longer. Tapping his foot impatiently against the pavement, he glanced at his phone and pursed his lips. Just a few more minutes to go…
At 9:30 on the dot, he pressed the number for Mirko's apartment on the intercom. When it buzzed, he slid open the door and darted inside. Now free from public scrutiny, he pulled down his hoodie and pocketed his facemask, then breathed a sigh of relief.
A short elevator ride later, he found himself in front of Mirko's door. There was a tiny twinge of nervousness in his gut, but he suppressed it and rang the bell.
The door opened to reveal a grinning Mirko, clad in a black sports bra and bike shorts. "Morning, kid! Good to see ya!" She eyed him oddly. "Why the hell do you look like you're about to go skiing? It's scorching outside!"
Seeing no reason to lie, Gohan let out a nervous chuckle. "I, ahh, wore a disguise so I wouldn't get recognised, but all it did was make more people stare at me."
Mirko barked out a laugh. "I'll bet. Come on in," she beckoned, stepping aside.
Gohan accepted the invite and took off his shoes, then did a cursory scan of his surroundings. "Wow," was all he could say; this place was spacious, with stylish and contemporary furniture, and a timber floor so smooth it felt like he could slide on it. Even the view was spectacular, allowing his eyes to feat on the majestic Tokyo skyline – Tokyo Tower included.
"You like what you see?" Mirko asked rhetorically, coming to stand beside him. "Because I live by myself, and don't have to pay sidekicks or rent out an office space, I can pretty much splurge on whatever I want. I wouldn't exactly say I need any of this fancy crap, but it keeps my mum off my back."
Gohan couldn't help but crack a nostalgic smile at that. Mothers were mothers, no matter the world they lived in. "Do you get much privacy in a place like this?" he inquired. "I got swarmed by reporters after the sports festival, and since then I've been extra cautious when going out."
Mirko frowned. "I'm sorry that happened you. You won't have any problems like that here, though. All my neighbours are pretty chill." She walked up to a window and gazed at the busy streets below. "One of the benefits of living in a place like Azabu is, everyone here is too wrapped up in their own business to butt their noses into yours. As long as you give them their space, they'll give you your space."
"I like that," Gohan replied, making a mental note to wear his school uniform next time he was over.
"Yeah, me too," Mirko agreed. She cleared her throat and turned to face him, crossing her arms. "Have you had breakfast?"
"I have."
"Good, because I didn't prepare anything. You're here to learn from me, not mooch off me," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am," Gohan replied with a smile.
"Good! But first, cut out that ma'am crap! It makes me feel old," she scolded. "Just call me Mirko."
"Will do, Mirko-sensei."
Mirko grimaced, but still managed a smirk. "Cheeky bugger, aren't ya! But that's fine, I can work with that. Let's see if you keep that same energy after our morning warmup."
"Morning warmup?"
Mirko's smirk morphed into a feral grin. "A spar, of course! I want to see where you're at!"
"Ahh," Gohan responded. He really should've expected that; Mirko's love of fighting was notorious. There were even rumours that she'd participated in underground fight clubs in the past, but given the media's propensity to spew literal garbage, he never paid them much heed.
"Any objections?" Mirko asked.
Gohan shook his head. "Nope. I'm down."
"Excellent!" Mirko exclaimed. "You can get changed into your hero outfit in the bathroom. It's down the hall, second door to your right."
"Got it. Where will we be sparring?"
"You'll see," Mirko teased.
Now that made Gohan curious, but he was nothing if not patient. Nodding his thanks, he made his way to the bathroom and set down his briefcase to start changing. Much like the rest of the apartment, Mirko's bathroom was sleek and modern, and probably matched his bedroom in size. It was really clean too, which was always nice to see.
Once he'd finished donning his gi, he packed his cape and shoes back in the briefcase, then left the bathroom. Back in the living room, Mirko was practicing her kicks, her movements fast and fluid, and her form flawless. Just off that brief glimpse alone, Gohan was genuinely impressed.
When she saw him, she grinned. "Follow me. Time to see if those muscles of yours are just for show."
Mirko led him to a door further in the apartment that wasn't visible from the living room, and after opening it, Gohan was treated to the sight of an enormous gymnasium. "Whoa… that's cool."
"Isn't it just?" Mirko preened.
Gohan hadn't been able to properly gauge the size of her entire apartment, but this room seemed to be just as large, if not larger. A massive sparring mat took up a good chunk of space, while an array of weightlifting and calisthenics equipment – both high tech and old school – occupied the far side of the gymnasium.
As he started stretching, he noticed the floor beneath him was quite sturdy despite its padding. And, aside from the massive mirror next to the workout section, he could faintly make out something shiny and metallic past the cracks in the wallpaper. He squinted, then furrowed his brow, only mildly perturbed. "Umm, Mirko-sensei, why are the walls reinforced by steel?"
Mirko chuckled. "Noticed that, did ya? It's so they don't break during sparring," she answered casually.
Gohan was taken aback. "Really? What kind of sparring are you- whoa!" A sudden gust of wind made him duck a flying kick from the seventh-ranked hero, who crashed into the wall with an emphatic clang that made his ears ring.
"Aww, you gotta be kidding me? Dented again? Those assholes told me they made it sturdier than ever!" Mirko whined, surveying the damage with her hands on her hips.
Gohan, meanwhile, stared at the sight in shock.
"Ooh, if those jerks expect me to pay extra for them to come fix their shit, there's gonna be hell to pay!" she continued ranting.
"Y-y-you tried to take my head off!" Gohan stammered.
"I knew you could handle it," Mirko reasoned with a huff, turning back to face him, a scowl now adorning her features.
With no further prompting, she shot forward once more with a flying kick to the chest, but Gohan blocked it with his palms, making Mirko bounce off with a backflip and land on her feet.
There was a momentary lull, before a Cheshire-like grin split her face. "Oho, I'm going to enjoy having you around!"
Mirko lashed out with a series of blindingly fast front, side and back kicks, but Gohan dipped, ducked and dodged every single one of them, and when she overextended on a roundhouse kick, he dropped to the floor and swept her standing foot, only for her to ride the momentum and cartwheel back to her feet.
"You spotted the opening! Nice!" Mirko praised giddily, her earlier annoyance seeming to have dissipated completely. "Now, let's turn it up a notch!"
She attacked again with a wild, unrestrained fury that lacked any rhythm, but surprisingly didn't leave any openings. She was also fast – very, very fast; far faster than anyone Gohan had encountered in this world up until now.
Figuring she was done hanging out freebies, he decided to make his own opening: palming aside a roundhouse by halting its momentum at the thigh and knee, he did a little lunge forward and drove an elbow into Mirko's chest, making her stagger. From this position, he flicked out a backfist that grazed her nose, then spun around and drove a spinning heel kick into her abdomen, knocking her back several feet and drawing a pained gasp.
When he realised what he'd done, his eyes bulged. "C-crap! Are you hurt? Sorry, I didn-"
"The hell you apologising for?" Mirko scolded, a trickle of blood dripping from her nose and her body trembling with… joy? "This is the most excited I've been in forever! Goddamn, kid! You hit like a truck! Here I was worried I'd have to hold back, but nope, now I can go all out!"
Gohan gulped. Was this woman part Saiyan?
Still beaming like a birthday kid at McDonalds, Mirko positioned herself like an Olympic sprinter, then lunged towards him at a speed far beyond anything she'd shown before. "Luna Rush!"
Gohan, of course, could track her movements with ease: he saw the way her body contorted mid-flight; the way her thigh muscles rippled as her bare foot flew at his face. So hypnotic was the view before him, he almost forgot to react, only managing to duck at the last second.
He then stepped back as Mirko's free foot swung down from above, slamming into the padded floor and making the metal beneath it creak. Another merciless barrage of kicks quickly followed, each one seeking to rearrange his face.
Still, he continued dodging, though not as seamlessly as before; despite his best efforts, he found his focus dwindling… the sight of Mirko's bare, sweat-slicked legs was stirring up something primal within him, and he had enough common sense to be mortified at the prospect.
He was granted a brief respite when with Mirko ceased her assault, huffing in exertion, but it was only fleeting; bending her knees, she hopped into the air and came down on his head with a vicious axe kick. "Luna Arc!"
Gohan blocked with his palms, but Mirko used the momentum to launch herself high enough to springboard off the ceiling. As she descended, her body spun like a wheel before unfurling into a devastating downwards kick, its sole intention being to drive the demi-Saiyan into the ground. "Luna Fall!"
A cross-arm block was enough to spare his blushes, but not before generating a gust of wind upon impact. Gohan looked up in surprise, only to immediately regret his decision after eating a mouthful of spandex-clad crotch. "Luna Tijeras!"
As though all the strength had been sapped from his body, he felt himself being spun around like a dummy before slamming into the floor with a loud thud.
It didn't hurt, but the shock was enough to wake him from his trance, and the first thing he saw was a panting Mirko smirking down at him. "Round one goes to me!"
Gohan blinked, then looked down. Mirko was essentially sitting on his chest, having pinned his shoulders to the ground with her knees. He felt a plume of heat rise to his cheeks. "Huh?" He'd actually lost? How the hell did that happen?
Mirko chuckled. "I gotta hand it to ya, kid, I came at you with everything I had, and you took it all like a champ! For a second there I was worried I'd actually taken your head off, but wow, you really know how to take a hit!"
"H-ha," Gohan mumbled numbly, his gaze now fixed on the lone bead of sweat flowing like a river along her chiselled abdomen. Suddenly, he felt a stirring in his nether regions, and that was enough to fully snap him out of his stupor. 'Oh fuck!'
It was then that Mirko chose to hop to her feet and hold out a hand. "Come on! Let's go for round tw- oh. Well shit."
Staggering to his feet at almost blur-like speed, Gohan covered his erection with his hands. "I am so, so sorry! I swear I'm not a pervert! I-I don't know what came over me!" he stammered.
Mirko snorted. "It's fine, kid. Don't worry about it. I guess I should take it as a compliment, huh?"
Gohan wasn't having it though. "I am so, so, so, so sorry!" he continued, bowing his head over and over.
"I said it's fine!" Mirko snapped, although he didn't detect any anger in her voice.
Swallowing thickly, Gohan averted his gaze, unwilling to meet her eyes. Meanwhile, his cheeks burned like an inferno. He couldn't imagine how pathetic he looked right now.
A silence engulfed the pair that seemed to stretch on for eternity, despite only lasting a few seconds. Mirko broke it by clearing her throat. "That's enough sparring for today. Go have a shower. If you haven't brought your own towel, feel free to grab one of mine from the cabinet."
"Thank you," Gohan replied, bowing once more before darting out of the gym. He did in fact bring his own towel, and snatched it out of his bag on the way to the bathroom.
Once inside, he locked the door and breathed out a long, deep sigh. "Fuuuuuuck!" he screamed under his breath.
Hobbling over to the mirror, he stared straight ahead and felt disgusted by the sight staring back at him: his face was as red as a beetroot, his hair was even more unkempt than usual, and sweat was dripping off him in droves. This morning had been a disaster of cataclysmic proportions. The only consolation was that Mirko hadn't seemed too upset over it, and unless she spilled the beans to someone else, what happened between them would stay between them.
Exhaling once more to try and dispel the nasty thoughts swirling around his head, he stepped back from the mirror and disrobed, then entered the shower and turned on the cold water at full blast.
As a torrent of icy water washed over him, his heartbeat quickened, but a few measured breaths honed from years of meditation dulled the chill, and before too long the cold barely even registered. Closing his eyes, Gohan let his mind take him to more pleasant pastures, far away from any ridiculously shredded rabbit women.
Gohan didn't know how long his shower had taken, but it had done wonders to improve his mood. He was still mortified – and he didn't expect that to change in a good, long while – but he'd put it behind him and was ready to focus on the task at hand. He wasn't a child anymore; he couldn't afford such trivial distractions.
Back in the living room, Mirko was lounging on the sofa in her hero gear, watching what looked like a crappy reality show. Noticing his entrance, she looked at him and smiled. "You've suited up? Good. We're going on patrol."
"I'm ready, Mirko-sensei," Gohan declared.
"Excellent!" Hopping off the couch, Mirko stood before him with her hands on her hips. "Alright, time to lay out how this is going to work. For the next week, we'll be starting each morning with a spar. After that, we'll go on patrol. Depending on how the day goes, we might have time to fit in another spar in the afternoon. You cool with that?"
"Yes, sensei," Gohan affirmed. He could work with that.
Mirko nodded. "Good. Also, I don't want a repeat of what happened today. Got it? I get you're a teenager, and your hormones are all over the place, but sheesh. Take care of that thing before you get here… or better yet, get yourself a girlfriend to take care of it for you."
"Th-that won't necessary, sensei! I promise it won't happen again!" Gohan stammered.
A teasing smirk slid across Mirko's lips. "What's the matter? You scared of a little female contact?"
"No!"
"I should think not! You sure as hell weren't afraid to put your hands all over me," she taunted with a snicker. "Come ooooon, you're a good-looking guy… I'm sure the girls in your class would kill to go out with you! All you have to do is ask!"
"Sensei…" Gohan protested, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks once more. Damn it! He'd just gotten his composure back, too!
"Hey, have you considered starting a harem? I think they're super lame, but I reckon you'd be one of the few people who could pull it off."
"Absolutely not!" His mother would have a heart attack if he so much as brought it up.
Mirko, however, was unrelenting. "Come ooooon! At least think about it?"
Gohan rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned, unwilling to dignify his sensei with a response. This just made her crack up harder, and soon enough she was guffawing like a lunatic. If this was what he was going to have to put up with for the next week, maybe he would've been better off going to South America… that language barrier would've really come in handy right about now.
AN: Pinky is a stupid name. If Bakugo can get away with Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, and Aoyama with Can't Stop Twinkling, Mina should've been allowed to keep Alien Queen. Alien Queen is awesome.
As for Gohan, yasai means vegetable, while Saiya-jin roughly translates to vegetable people. While Gohan chose Saiyaman as an homage to the Saiyan race, it was nice to be able to weave in Toriyama's real word explanation for his characters' naming conventions.
I'd always planned for Gohan to intern with Mirko. Aside from her being one of my favourite characters from what I'd read of the manga, it made more sense to me than any other hero. Also, I'd always planned for that boner mishap to happen. Teenage hormones are wild like that.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I feel like I'm still getting over my rust when it comes to writing, but I'm happy with how this turned out. Any feedback is appreciated though.
If you're an old reader who's stuck around, thanks for your continued support, and if you're a new reader, welcome. Special thanks as well to everyone who left kind comments welcoming me back after the last chapter; it genuinely warmed my heart.
Believe me when I say there's a lot more to come, and now that I'm done with that cursed sports festival, I can finally write the content I've been wanting to write for years. I'm really looking forward to it, and I hope you all are too.
Until next time!