You Can Be a Hero Too

[Meta Liberation Arc] Two Years of Change

[Previously]

"At the end of the day, we each have our own individual paths to pursue. And while I understand your desire to follow those dreams, I ask that you never lose sight of the ultimate goal..."

"...Peace."

[Meta Liberation Arc] Two Years of Change

"I started my life with a single absolute: that the world was mine to shape in the image of my highest values and never to be given up to a lesser standard, no matter how long or hard the struggle." - Ayn Rand

-You Can Be A Hero Too-

'Cold,' Takahiro Hayakawa thought to himself, his breath forming frosty clouds in the frigid air.

He had spent his last bit of money from the Asakusa job on a jacket, hoping it would shield him from the biting weather. Yet, as he walked down the dimly lit street during twilight, he couldn't help but feel the persistent chill seeping through his skin. 

"At least it's better than going without food," he muttered, his determination urging him to press on, just a little further.

His empty stomach growled a painful reminder that it had been days since his last proper meal. He had become a mere shadow of his former self, his once healthy frame reduced to skin and bones. The cold seemed to penetrate deeper into his weakened body, intensifying his discomfort.

Takahiro possessed a unique Quirk that involved making blood-red blades out of his arms, a skill that many petty villain operations in the greater Tokyo area found valuable. It allowed him to scrape by, picking up odd jobs here and there. 

However, his infamy had become a hindrance. The mere mention of his name had caused a media frenzy, making it difficult for him to find stable employment. No one wanted to keep him around for long, fearing the attention he brought.

"Most villain groups still prefer to operate in the shadows, even with All Might gone," Takahiro mused, reflecting on the current state of affairs. "But they will soon realize the necessity of being loud and conspicuous, like the League." However, two years ago, the League had become inactive due to their supposed deaths.

Takahiro hoped that would change soon. With his notoriety, he could only hope for a lasting job with individuals who were interested in inciting public unrest. Unfortunately, returning to FOWL itself was not an option he could consider.

His stomach emitted another growl, a persistent reminder of his hunger. "Food. I need food," he muttered to himself. Earlier, he had managed to quench his thirst with some melted snow, but the pangs of hunger were an unrelenting presence, always looming.

He tightly embraced his sides, seeking some comfort from the chill in the air, as he turned into the dimly lit alleyway. At its far end, an imposing warehouse stood silently, exuding an air of desolation.

"I wonder what FOWL is up to these days," he pondered aloud. "They've been surprisingly quiet lately. Is Kayama brooding? Are they also struggling with poverty? Are they starving?"

Takahiro desperately hoped to avoid the need to resort to risky measures like visiting the bank or seeking assistance from his father at Jakku Hospital, even if the doctors were there. "I must press on," he reminded himself, mustering his determination. "Just endure through this winter, and then..."

But what then? What lay beyond surviving another day? How could he possibly be of service to anyone in his current state?

'Food,' he refocused his thoughts, forcing himself to concentrate on the immediate necessity. 'Just make it through today, and then you can worry about tomorrow.'