Mind Games - Chapter 12 (Patreon)

I don't need to sleep.

That said, I usually do.

First and foremost, it's a hard habit to break. Sleeping isn't just a physiological need, there's a psychological aspect to it. Periods of unconscious rest break up the monotony that would result from days blurring together into a solid mass. Which is something that many people who fantasize about not needing sleep don't realize. Imagine if you just continuously rolled over onto the next day of school-work-travel-whatever... endlessly.

Being able to do something and wanting to do it are two different things, in short.

That said, there was also a difference between spending a third of your day unconscious and taking a two-hour power nap assisted by multiple meditative techniques, kung-fu magic techniques, and long experience across multiple lifetimes with an intimate understanding of how to maximize rest over a short period. Combined with a new and, frankly, startling appreciation for coffee as well as the ability to circulate aforementioned magic through my system as a pick-me-up...

I blinked, taking in the small, easy smile sitting on my lips as I sipped the cheap homebrew beans I'd turned into something more akin to an artisanal frappuccino.

Jesus, I might have to tone things down a notch. I'm almost... perky.

It was a disturbing thought.

The train rolled to a stop and I slipped into the orderly migration with the rest of the worker drones, having shed my school uniform before leaving the building and donning something approaching hero-casual instead. It was all thick, sturdy material. Two layers in light of the bitter cold, all in black with a silver belt, silver cuffs around the wrists, and a large silver boot print emblem, my emblem, on the back of the hoodie. The pants were a similar affair, thick black material with a single silver stripe along each outsider leg, ending at the pair of thick military boots on my feet.

Funnily enough, I hadn't had to search too hard for the outfit.

Just like in my last life where 'military surplus' might as well be a brand name rather than a category of clothing, hero surplus was much the same in this world.

The trick was in finding actual hero surplus suppliers instead of cheap knock-offs made in bulk from one of the Chinese breakaway successor states. Say what you will about them, but they'd come by their preoccupation with making mass produced bootlegs honestly. I'd managed to source about a dozen of the outfits for regular exercise clothing from a retailer that purchased wholesale from Detnerat and did customization work from dumped stock.

They even sold a downgraded version of the larger company's Hero Armor support gear that was available for the premium consumer. I'd taken a pass on that for now, though. If I got into a scuffle, it might look like I'd been actively preparing for vigilantism in my 'clean' ID, which would be a no-no.

They did damn fine work and I wished them the best. Maybe I'd shill for them on the channel?

I took another sip of my coffee and disguised a side-step as a slight stumble, not wanting to make contact with the insubstantial obstacle which would have been in my way.

Another unpleasant surprise, now that I'm cycling essence through my body.

Thankfully, the Endeavor Agency was only a little further down the street. As I walked, my eyes trailed over a small memorial, not unlike the roadside crosses of the United States. This, though, was obviously for a villain attack that had happened sometime recently. Given how close it was to a major hero agency, though... I had to wonder if a villain had been able to escape custody.

Todoroki Fuyumi, in full costume, met me outside.

“Shinso, good to see you're on time. Or would you prefer Bootstrap?” She asked, looking me over with an approving nod. “I like the look, very functional without going too casual.”

I grinned, slipping a mask out of my messenger bag. “I guess since I'm supposed to be interning, I should get some exercise using the name, huh? And thanks, that's basically what I was going for.”

A pair of deft movements later and I was wearing a muted silver facemask with a black boot print on the front. Likewise, a dull gold skullcap pulled my hair down before I flipped the hood of my jacket up. “How's that? Too much?”

Fuyumi hesitated, holding her chin in one hand before nodding slowly. “A bit, but I think you pull it off. At least until we can get you a proper helmet. Nice touch with the gold, too. I've seen a lot of heroes with starter costumes that are afraid to add a splash of another color. Keeping it dual-chromatic like that works, but can be visually boring compared to more dynamic color schemes.”

“It's not bad for a first try, if I say so myself,” I stated, my voice coming out slightly warped as the mechanical amplifier (a cheaper, less versatile version of what UA would have given a different version of me, once upon a time) kicked in. All it really did was amplify and distort my voice slightly to both make up for the face-mask's muffling and ensure I wasn't too easy to recognize.

“Well, enough playing fashion guru in the middle of the street,” Fuyumi stated, turning to lead me into the building. “Let me show you around, Bootstrap.”

“Lead the way... Hot Ice.”

I wonder if, eventually, I'll stop feeling like I'm cosplaying when I'm wearing something like this.

Putting that thought behind me, I followed Hot Ice into the Endeavor Agency. It wasn't quite as grandiose a structure as Might Tower, but it still qualified as an impressive midrise tower. And, more significantly, an armored one with substantial defenses. If for no other reason, that made the tour interesting as the sidereal within me whispered observations on the layout, the decor, and the methodical kill-boxes strategically placed throughout the entire design.

“The entire building actually has a lot of history to it,” Hot Ice stated, shifting her blue firefighter's jacket adorned with high-visibility reflective stripes. “It's a legacy construction built at the height of the Dark Age by the JSDF's Tokyo Command. Apparently it was too expensive to modernize, so they finally put it on the market about twenty five years ago. Endeavor oversaw the conversion of the structure from a near-derelict into a functional base of administration for his agency.”

“I saw the building next door, isn't it some kind of museum dedicated to the original structure?” I asked, my eyes roaming the rather skilled mosaics covering the walls. They were all very... romanesque, in a way. Reminiscent of the ancient mythic champions of old gods, simply wearing modern jumpsuits and armor instead of animal skins and beaten metal.

It also neatly drew the attention away from the fact that the walls were far too thick for the observed dimensions of the room we were standing in, even accounting for possible (likely) military-grade reinforcement.

Dark Age construction did not fuck around when it came to secure locations.

“Oh, yes!” Hot Ice smiled widely, adopting a lecturing pose. “That's the JSDF Tokyo Operations Command Museum and Memorial. It actually used to be the public lobby of this building before the renovation removed the connecting corridor.”

I hummed and nodded as we made our way into one of several corridors with reinforced doors, Fuyumi giving a wave to one of the receptionists nearby as she catered to a man holding a ream of paperwork and looking frustrated in a very subdued, Japanese manner.

All the while a barrier of exceptionally thick 'glass' sat between them.

“Impressive security layout,” I commented idly as my guide scanned a card and entered biometrics.

“Noticed the glass around the receptionists' desks, didn't you?” Hot Ice asked with an awkward grin.

“And the hidden outer corridor of the room,” I nodded as we entered the back half of the main floor. “I'm guessing that and the disguised murder holes are leftovers from when villains would try to raid the JSDF facility to free apprehended villains.”

Hot Ice narrowed her gaze at me and nodded slowly. “Yes... it usually takes someone with a special kind of quirk, like echolocation, to notice those. I've never heard them called 'murder holes,' though I'll admit it's fairly descriptive of their original purpose.”

I nodded absently. “The term originates in the west, the castles here in Japan would call them 'stone drop windows,' which is about equally honest for their purposes. I think the technical architectural term is embrasures... and I'm rambling. Sorry.”

Fuyumi giggled, shaking her head. “Don't worry about it. I imagine a fair bit of it is from your job as a streamer. You'll want to watch that on the job, or maybe not. Some heroes can make little eccentricities like that work for them.”

I huffed a laugh and nodded. “So, on with the tour?”

“On with the tour,” Hot Ice agreed, straightening a bit. “Next on our agenda is a quick stop by the security office to get you a temporary ID.”

And so it was. Much of the ensuing hours was taken up by the complicated bureaucratic dance common to anything that dealt extensively with the government. I had my picture taken both with and without my costume, my fingerprints put on file, a retina scan made, hair, skin, saliva, and blood samples posted to their air-gapped employee database, and was only released after a brief physical workup that tested things like my lifting capacity, weight, and muscle density.

“Sorry about that,” Hot Ice apologized for what felt like the fiftieth time, dipping her head slightly. “As the office for the number two hero in the nation, we handle a great deal of classified information from the armed forces, intelligence agencies, and international cooperation departments. Because of that, we need to be extremely careful about identifying shape-shifters, espers that can deflect attention, and other quirks that can be used to impersonate our employees.”

Master/Stranger protocols, by a different name doth smell as tedious...

“How often do you catch someone?” I asked, actually curious as to the answer.

“Well, I can't go into details...” Hot Ice drawled, rubbing at her chin consideringly. “But, I guess I can admit that I wish we had to deal with a few less than we do.”

“So, enough that the security procedures aren't just paranoia,” I mused, frowning behind my mask.

My guide nodded, then mimed zipping her mouth shut. Beyond the implication that she couldn't say more, I was at least somewhat relieved that heroes were more than they'd been made out to be by the media. Oh, I'd known from both my digging through message boards and simple logic that there had to be, but it was always interesting seeing behind the curtain for yourself.

“Now that you're in the system,” she nodded to the internship lanyard around my neck, “we can meet some of the pro-heroes and sidekicks so that they can spread the word you're supposed to be on the premises.”

“I suppose workplace gossip travels faster than internal memos,” I commented dryly.

“And more people pay attention to it, too,” Hot Ice sighed tiredly, an amused lilt to the sincere exasperation bleeding through her body language.

“Which brings to mind a question... am I going to be assigned to an individual department for the next two weeks? Or a specific hero? Or just traded around to get a feel for the whole operation?” I asked with a shrug, rearranging the bag on my shoulder.

“A lot of it depends on if my dad – Endeavor – has any plan for you, but you'll get a say in it too when you meet with him, don't worry. The usual decision is to have first-time interns spend a day or two at each department and then go on a light patrol or two at the end of the period. Since you're not enrolled in a hero school, we'll be skipping that part. Our insurance coverage would bite our head off if we tried to take sole liability on someone with no formal training at all.” She paused, grimacing. “No offense, of course. I just meant-”

“Regardless of my own abilities, there's no hero school with hero teachers to vouch for them to their own insurers and share liability if I'm injured,” I stated bluntly, cutting her off with a nod. “I get it. I wasn't really expecting to go on many – if any – patrols, anyway.”

Fuyumi hummed thoughtfully and I could see the surprise evident in her stance as it shifted her gait. It wasn't the first time, either, and I was curious as to what was going on in her head. Then again, I was fairly sure it was a positive kind of surprise which would increase my chance of getting another internship application greenlit or, in the event I enjoyed it here, being approved for another round.

“So...” Fuyumi drawled slowly. “I've been watching your streams, still. You and Buster seem like good friends.”

I hummed, rolling my shoulders and forcing myself to untense at the prod to my career and, through it, my personal life. “We're getting there. Buster's a good training dummy, if nothing else. And he's got spunk. Enough that I think he'll make the cut next year if he's really serious about things.”

Next Year.

It was irritating, a little bit, that I'd even gotten that wrong. Living over three decades in western society had ingrained in me a thoughtless acceptance of a school year that started in the late summer and ended in the late spring. I'd woken up here, in this life, in early November. So it seemed fairly obvious that I was going to be trying out for hero school 'next year' given my knowledge of MHA canon and Izuku's imposed eleven-month deadline to receive All Might's quirk.

Except...

The Company had screwed up in ways that I hadn't really noticed until I'd started looking. And I'd run on my assumptions that I already knew when the school year started without really thinking about it. In my defense, my eleven-month judgement should have been correct had I woken up on the day Izuku had his fateful meeting with the Sludge Villain or within an approximate timeframe. As it was, the foundational yearly school schedule that I'd studied and worked under for... nearly thirty years?

Christ, why did I think going back to high school again was a good idea?

Anyway, I'd assumed that I would take the test for UA in a little less than a year after I'd arrived.

And that was wrong.

I'd arrived in early November, testing for high school qualifications was in late February for admissions in the middle of March. So if I was in the same scholastic year, I would have had four months instead of eleven. That was slightly alarming, but I could deal now that I'd gotten a few templates and ramped up my preparations. But the complications didn't end there.

I'd woken up the November before Izuku's meeting with the Sludge Villain, which would (possibly) still happen in three or four months.

Ugh, this reminds me of mistakes I made when I was writing. It's always the thing you don't check, the thing you're sure of, that fucks you.

So Himiko was actually still a year ahead of me. She was in her final year of junior high, whereas I was only in my second. She wasn't younger, I was just early.

Which explains why that didn't count as a significant deviation for The Company to award me a point, I guess. Either that or they didn't think a single year off a person's age mattered that much.

Eleven months, then, turned into sixteen months originally. Given that it was almost January, though, my current running tally was fourteen months until my age-group had their tests for UA.

And it only took me two months to figure this out! Maybe one day soon I'll advance to walking and breathing at the same time! Truly I am a genius for the ages!

“Bootstrap, are you listening? We're about to meet with the first set of sidekicks. You don't want to be spacing out for a first impression,” Hot Ice warned.

“I'm paying attention,” I replied. “You were briefing me on Brazier, Charcoal, and Onibi. Brazier can produce fluids from his body that, when heated, create a soporific effect, not unlike the more famous heroine Midnight, but with a more limited range given he can't control the cloud of vapor after it's changed states. Charcoal is a heteromorph that looks like charred wood, hence the name, and is a pretty standard strength/durability/endurance package on the high-end of things. Onibi is an illusionist that produces hypnotic ghost-like flames that trick her opponent's senses into seeing her as a monstrous vengeful phantom.”

Hot Ice blinked, her head pulling back in surprise. “Huh, you actually were. Good job. I really thought you weren't paying attention there for a moment.”

“I'm pretty good at multitasking,” I replied with a shrug, making a show of observing our surroundings now that we were out of the low-level bureaucratic hell of public service and into the more personalized levels of the various associates of the hero side of things.

“You are,” Hot Ice complimented. “I've watched your stream enough to know how complicated some of the programs you're working on are while you're talking. Which reminds me... want one of those pictures you promised?”

I blinked. “Right now?”

She shrugged. “Cynically, it's better for the agency if your first post with one of our heroes is a more recognizable figure. Endeavor's daughter makes a better photo-op than what is, frankly, one of our B-Tier hostage rescue teams. Not that the work they do isn't important. It is, but our image department wanted me to take the lead.”

She paused pointedly and crossed her arms under her chest.

“For some reason.”

I clicked my tongue in disapproval and fished out my phone. “Hazards of law enforcement by popularity contest, I suppose.”

She snorted, grinning as she looked her clothing over for any imperfections. The blue outer coat was a little worn, but still in good condition with only minor scuffs on the edges and the reflective strips. The set of armored coveralls had one of the more conservative boob-windows that I'd seen in fanservice-geared heroine costumes, likely because it could be 'sealed' for a more businesslike approach by closing up the more protective outer jacket. Combined with the loose-fitting blue pants with similar reflective stripes, and you could almost see her as a stripper cosplaying as a fetish-styled firefighter if you overlooked how functional the rest of the outfit was. Especially the boots, those things were made for kicking ass.

At least, as long as she had her helmet off. Were she to put that on instead of carrying it under her arm, the faceplate attached to it would completely block her (admittedly very pretty) face and present a much more imposing visage.

All in all, it was actually a pretty good mixture of PR and functionality, blending the two into something that wouldn't scare people away while still maintaining an image that all but the horniest of perverts could admit deserved respect.

“You do know that line of yours is being meme'd like crazy, right?” Hot Ice asked as we posed. Given how my face was mostly covered, I had to rely on body language and a cheeky peace-sign or two to get across an 'excited but trying not to show it' mood. “'Law enforcement by popularity contest.' I don't know if I've ever heard someone sum up everything that's wrong with the current system so concisely.”

I rolled my eyes, making sure to capture the moment on digital film. Given my persona online was at least a bit irreverent, that would be good for image. “Being famous on the internet and five hundred yen will get me a soda, if I'm lucky.”

Fuyumi laughed openly as I shrugged, upturning my hands as if I had no idea what was going on. Another good one. Portraying myself as at least a bit clueless kept me humble, especially if I could take being 'laughed at' by a pro, which was what most people would see in this one regardless of any explanation.

“So...” Fuyumi trailed off awkwardly, shuffling her helmet from one arm to another as she looked away from me. “Our image department did pitch the idea that we could snap a slightly risque pic of you sneaking a glance down the zipper of my coveralls, if you want.”

I blinked, turning to stare at her in mild disbelief. “And your father okayed that?”

...because, if he did, I'll have to reevaluate my reevaluation of him. Violently.

Fuyumi snorted, grimacing slightly. “The image people come to me instead of him because they know I'm not established enough to put my foot down without calling my dad in as backup. It's... complicated, office politics stuff, but they do good work using me to sell a more approachable side of the agency, and it's good for business. Something about emphasizing my... feminine appeal.”

Her face made it clear exactly what she thought of that phrase and what it meant.

She shrugged, awkwardly. Uncomfortably, both at the topic of discussion and at what she was being asked to do. My hackles rose. “Please inform them that I am not comfortable with cooperating in promoting the objectification of a pro hero in this manner.”

Tension released from her body like an uncoiling spring with a muted gusty sigh she tried unsuccessfully to hide. She gave me an odd glance. “In this manner?”

“You mentioned you have a gym in-house?” She nodded and I sighed. “If it would get them off your back, we could probably do a shot or two of us sparring. Maybe grappling? We'll probably get something out of it that looks innocent enough but can be sleazed up in a wholesome way that won't offend the more conservative groups.”

Fuyumi stared at me for a long moment, a slight smile curving her lips. “Thanks, Shinso. That would really help.”

I shrugged, looking away from her and feeling vaguely dirty for engaging in the manipulations of a corporate image department. Their job was to sell a person as a commodity, after all. “It is what it is. Being able to pass off a cheesecake shot for actual training purposes will probably make it easier for my girlfriend to accept, too.”

Not that Himiko would care, really, but she'd have to manufacture the illusion of caring if her girlfriends got offended on her behalf should it look like I was cheating on her.

Fuyumi's eyes widened as she perked up. “You have a girlfriend?! Spill! Tell me all about her! And send me those pictures so I can pass them on to image to get the okay before you post them!”

I groaned internally. And externally. I'd thoughtlessly tripped the gossip-center of the woman's brain.

~~~

...and that's a wrap! Good size chapter and a decent place to stop at. Next chapter will feature a meeting with Endeavor, get ready for some weirdness there.

Mostly this is something of a filler chapter to bridge things into the internship arc, which will be... four chapters or so? Something like that.

Remember that this is an early internship for Shinso and he's not completely grown into his main character energy yet, so don't expect anything too wild to pop up like in canon. MOST of this arc will be behind-the-scenes worldbuilding 'how heroes work' type stuff. I'll try to keep it from being boring.

Also, high likelihood that Todoroki Shoko shows herself for a little bit, that should be fun.

Uhh... let's see, anything else? Hmm... probably going to post one or two new things to the Awesome Tier in a day or so. Possibly future projects, possibly DOA stuff that won't otherwise see the light of day, but that I just had to write for some reason.

Anyway, hope everyone's having a good week! It's all downhill to the weekend now!