What Makes A Hero

9

"You don't have to say if you don't want to..." and it was true. Izumi, didn't care as long as Nox continued to stay at his side and help him, encourage him, care for him.

Nox didn't speak for awhile, but when he did it was in a quiet voice, "Alright..."

       Nox took a deep breath before speaking again, repeating himself, "Alright, but I should, you found out half the story and got hurt because you were curious and I, careless.  I find that people don't change themselves very quickly. Besides it's only right you know- I should have said something sooner."

       "Okay...?"

Izumi could remember bits and pieces of what had happened as Nox spoke, following Nox to several different seedy locations where the other had been greeted as Dr. Edmund Woolfe or some variation of those three words, an alias, Nox had claimed, as he demonstrated how he had somewhat tamed and dimmed his hair so it only looked as if it was a bit wild and a bright yellow-orange rather than actually on fire. Woolfe was supposedly fifty-six, able to change his age at will, and had graduated some years back when an influx of doctors alongside a decrease in demand had been happening. With a quirk like Woolfe's he had been forced to turn to underground doctoring and after so many years, once the demand had risen again, it had been difficult to get a job without being able to site any of his experience or explain the giant 'gap' in his practice.

Nox had paused then to free his hair again and then continued, "Truthfully I've been working with a vigilante group who in turn is working with a handful of underground heroes to help trace a human trafficking ring in these parts. As Edmund Woolfe I was a pretty common face before at fight clubs around that time I was allegedly getting my degree and then afterwards, so they approached me. Apparently it's bigger than I know too as there are people waiting to pick up the ball once the trail leaves this area and the surrounding cities..."

Nox made a face, "I don't know though, there's been some cracking down on all sorts of activities and this seems a bit wider spread of a net then what they had originally suggested to me. I'm of the opinion it started out like they said but now they're getting ambitious as everything works out and falls into place, they'll deal with the ring, then the underground meetings and fight clubs, then the gangs and strays, then their informants. Of course that is assuming nobody catches on first and kills anybody who partnered up with those underground heroes and maybe even a handful of the involved heroes themselves. It's always like this though, that's why everybody knows me as fifty-six year old Edmund Woolfe. Of course I didn't expect you'd follow me, I'm against how far they are now planning to push their crusade, but until the first bit of it is completed and the trafficking rings are brought down entirely I'll never be able to force myself to pull back my support."

He blinked for a second, took off his glasses and forced his face to drop its tired look, "Clearly, that part is not quite finished yet though."

      Izumi stared blankly at the door trying to fit together the pieces he had been given, "Oh...what will happen to the kids there?"

      "I should have known, you always did have too much heart Friday Child... one of the vigilantes is able to track anything their blood touches, I have wipes with a tiny bit of their blood mixed in it, all the children there are being tracked so even if they are moved the plan can go on, they will all be brought home or at least removed from that place. Just two more weeks and it's over."

       "I see... have you ever done this before?"

       "Done near-vigilante work like this? Plenty of times, there is a lot of bad in this world and at times it even feels like not a lot of good, and... clearly I'm not a good person Friday Child," His glasses were absentmindedly exchanged again, "but the truly bad things aren't something I let pass by me when I run into them. Unfortunately though a lot of the stuff out there you'll find is pretty grey, take that first fight club I visited for an example, yeah it's illegal and dangerous for the participants, but everyone who is there knows what they're getting into and many need it to support their families. It's either the best option they have or the only- and that says something more about society then the club itself."

      "Oh..."

      Nox stood up from where he had been sitting before, one hand placing yet another new set of glasses on his face- the ones he'd put on a few moments before already missing, "Here I can go and let you think about all this... I know it's, difficult and you've always loved heroes and clearly I'm... not. Well actually I'm more a villain than anything according to society."

      "No..." Izumi blinked in tandem with Nox, "I- uh- I mean- if it's not- if you don't mind- could you maybe- would- is it- stay? ... y-you don't have to- I just-"

       Nox's thin smile flashed across his face for an instant and this time Izumi could see the fondness, sadness, and loneliness that danced with the more plainly shown amusement in it. And then he sat back down wrapping his arm around Izumi to ruffle his hair, "Sure, I can stay."

     "And tell a story?" The tradition of bedtime stories had begun sometime after they had started running in the evenings although it had taken until after the first year that Izumi had lived with Nox before he worked up the courage to ask for him to tell one and every time Nox had smiled briefly before beginning a new one.

      Nox smiled briefly before he spoke, settling down, "Alright... Let's see, what haven't I told you about yet...? How about..." Izumi drifted to sleep before he even began feeling warm, safe, and comfortable.

      The increasingly familiar day dream of being born as Nox's son dancing in his head, except now his hair was a dark green with flame-like streaks of of orange and yellow going through it, and the mysterious woman from the photograph he had found was with them too.  Laughing happily at one of Nox's more amusing stories- that they had no doubt heard a thousand times- as Nox grinned the same carefree grin he had in the photo at her, both of them holding onto one of Izumi's hands. Both supporting and caring for him no matter what. Not at all bothered that he didn't have a quirk. Or that normal school didn't interest him. Both proud that he wanted to be a hero, not ashamed.

       Izumi let himself drift off to sleep to a tale about magical golden apples- of all things- and the feeling of safety.