Move, Bitch. Get Out the Way.
Kiyomi never wanted to be a hero.
Hero work was a broken system. Hero’s should work because of their morals and the determination in their heart to help those who are too afraid or simply can’t help themselves. Instead, it was based on what the public liked. If the people didn’t like you, you aren’t wanted and discarded in place of a fan favorite who makes the people happy. Hero work is about saving people, sure, but it shouldn’t be based on what the people want. Hero work was more like a talent show than an actual job where you help people.
But who was Kiyomi to say anything? It’s not like she was out helping people every night only to get chased by the police and told off for breaking the law. They would've died if I hadn’t subdued him. Deal with it .
So vigilantism was a thankless business. Kiyomi didn’t care. It got food on the table and gave Kiyomi the chance to help people in her own way. She didn’t care if she was wanted by the police or if she had to hurt a few sick villains along the way. She cared about saving lives, and that was what she’s doing: taking the scum off the streets one person at a time.
However, the moment Kiyomi stepped off the streets and into her apartment, she wasn’t a vigilante anymore. She was an anxiety-ridden teenager who was just trying to get through her final year of middle school.
“Did you finish your homework?” Kiyomi’s mom, Miyoko, called from the kitchen. She was making a soup today, Kiyomi realized as she walked by, glancing at the television as it proclaimed the latest rescue made by Pro Hero Endeavor. Kiyomi snarled in disgust. That man was a monster and didn’t deserve a Pro Hero title, let alone to be the number two hero behind All Might.
Kiyomi shrugged. “Most of it. Kyoji home yet, or is he still at practice?” In the kitchen, Kiyomi could see Miyoko standing against the counter, glancing up at the television while typing away at her phone. Miyoko had made a new friend in the form of their next-door neighbor and wouldn’t stop talking to her about everything. Kiyomi’s mom was worse than Kiyomi was with that phone, and Kiyomi was supposed to be the teenager here.
“He’s still at practice. They have a tournament coming up, remember?” Miyoko didn’t look up from her phone as she stirred the soup next to her.
Kyoji, Kiyomi’s brother, was a year younger than her and spent all his time playing video games. When Meifira High School revealed they were adding a competitive gaming team to their list of extracurriculars, Kyoji signed up without a second thought. He spent all his time with his new group of friends now and didn’t have the time to come home and humor his lonely older sister.
“Oh yeah.” Kiyomi started searching the kitchen for a cup. Her mom was constantly reorganizing the cupboards, so it was hard to find things when Kiyomi wanted them. It was annoying, but Kiyomi dealt with it, just like she dealt with everything else. “Are you texting Mrs. Midoriya from next door?”
“Yeah.” Miyoko nodded absent-mindedly. “Her son has said he’s being bullied at school. Can you believe that? Izuku is such a nice boy. He’d never be bullied.”
Izuku was Inko Midoriya’s son, the same age as Kiyomi. He went to a smaller, more local middle school so Kiyomi never ran into him, but she’d glimpsed him a few times coming in and out of the apartments. It wasn’t hard to believe he was being bullied. He was Quirkless, and it was common knowledge that people thought less of Quirkless. Kiyomi hated that, too.
Kiyomi wanted to lecture her mom on gossiping and bullying and trust and so many other things, but she knew that if she started to tell Miyoko what was on her mind, she’d get snapped at and grounded, as well as make Miyoko feel like a terrible person. While that might not seem like a lot, Kiyomi’s mom didn’t have much in the way of self-esteem, so if Kiyomi said one negative thing about her, Miyoko got passive-aggressive and depressed, which affected the mood of all three of them.
Keeping her mouth shut, as much as it pained her, Kiyomi got herself a cup of water and walked off to her room. The news was so loud. With a small sigh, she put her headphones on and started listening to the radio she had on her phone. Today was Friday, and it was after five, meaning Present Mic would be starting his “non-stop music” radio show any time now.
Kiyomi hated the hero profession, don’t get her wrong, but some heroes were actually good people. Like Present Mic. Don’t judge her on that. God.
They were still doing call-in questions as Kiyomi tuned in.
“All right! That’s a great question, listener!” Present Mic was saying in his usual announcer voice. He spoke like that in real life, too. Kiyomi had seen him around while she was patrolling sometimes, alongside a mysterious dark man he referred to as his husband.
Present Mic was nice. The dark man was scary. Kiyomi didn’t like it.
“Heroes work non-stop to try and get villains off the streets, but sometimes a brave soul wants to break the law and do the same time, unsanctioned and lawless. This “Shard” person you’ve been hearing about is not a hero!” Present Mic emphasized. “They are an illegal vigilante, and the police are working hard to bring them to justice as soon as possible!”
Kiyomi snorted, almost sending her glass of water flying. She was famous! Wow. This was new.
Shard was Kiyomi’s vigilante persona. It wasn’t the best name, but it stuck. Kiyomi hadn’t planned on having a vigilante name, but when it came down to it, it wasn’t like she could just use her own name. Shard had emerged after looking at a piece of glass for too long, true story.
Why in the world would someone be asking about her on Present Mic’s radio show?
“But they’ve been helping people,” the person on the other line defended. “Shouldn’t they get the acknowledgment they deserve?”
Oooo. Now Kiyomi had fans, too? This day was getting better and better.
Present Mic sounded uncomfortable. “Vigilantism is illegal,” he repeated. “If Shard wanted to be a hero, they should’ve gotten the right qualifications.”
Kiyomi took her headphones off. Shard might not care about the law or who got in her way, but Kiyomi certainly did and it bothered her to no end. She knew what she was doing was right, and believed in it, but it didn’t stop her brain from yelling at her.
The shaking started, and Kiyomi mentally yelled back at herself. She was irrational. What she was doing was right, and it didn’t matter if it was illegal or not. She’d never actually killed a person, but some days, it had gotten really close. For example, the pedophiles and rapists she’d run into late at night. Oftentimes she left them close to death, sometimes begging for it, and Kiyomi had no sympathy left for them. But the anxiety didn’t discriminate between Kiyomi’s morals.
What could she do to distract herself? It was only just past 5 in the afternoon, too early to start watching the streets. All of her fun homework had been done for ages, leaving just her Japanese essay and a science worksheet (both stupid and useless, if you asked her). Her laptop was dead, so no writing. Video games could work, but then Kiyomi would have to listen to another five seconds about fucking Endeavor, and just thinking of it made her sick.
A walk would have to do.
As Kiyomi’s heart pounded against her chest and her hands shook senselessly, she passed the television and her distracted mother as fast as she could, saying something about being back in twenty minutes as she kicked on her shoes and closed the door behind her.
She had just been outside, too. This was stupid.
Either way, Kiyomi took a breath of fresh air and felt better almost instantly. It was going to rain tonight. Thank God. Kiyomi had needed a night where she could sit in the rain for a while.
Middle school was ending soon, and she still hadn’t chosen a high school. None of the schools around here seemed interesting. They were all boring and eventless, and worst of all, they were filled with people Kiyomi already knew. She wanted to meet new people, make new friends. She wanted to start over, basically. It was hard being an extrovert with anxiety. Nobody took you seriously when you told them because you were already outgoing and loud. Anxiety was lumped with introverts, an unfair assumption in Kiyomi’s mind. So when Kiyomi finally started to tell her friends about the mental illness she was pretty damn sure she had, they all laughed at her and told her she was being dramatic.
Thanks, guys. Very helpful.
As Kiyomi was traveling down the stairs of the apartment building, she almost ran into a boy a little taller than her, with green curly hair and freckles. Izuku Midoriya, Inko’s son. The one who shouldn’t be bullied because he was nice.
Izuku was Quirkless and teenagers were pieces of unrelenting shit. It was no surprise Izuku was being bullied, but certainly one that no one was taking him seriously.
The boy wasn’t watching where he was going, instead reading from his notebook with a pencil in his hand. Kiyomi almost knocked him down the stairs, but caught his shirt before he could fall.
“Hey. You’re Mrs. Midoriya’s son.” Kiyomi didn’t make it a question. She already knew it was true and was stating a fact. “Izuku, right?”
Izuku got his footing and closed his notebook, turning red and stuttering under his breath. Right. Nervous boys didn’t like to talk to girls.
“I’m Tamatsuki Kiyomi. Our moms are friends. I live in the apartment two doors down.” Kiyomi stood off to the side so Izuku could slide past her. The talking made Kiyomi’s heart rate start to grow normal, but she was still shaking. God, the stupid shaking.
“Uh, it’s nice to meet you!” Izuku managed, holding his notebook close to his chest as he started to sneak away.
“You, too.” Kiyomi made her leave. She hoped against all hopes that the boy doesn’t find her cute or whatever. He is so not her type and she didn’t want to have to tell him, or anyone, really, what her real type was.
*** Walking gave Kiyomi a rhythm, and that calmed her down some more. She thought back to last week, where she’d actually held a knife to a man's face as he stuttered an apology. He was going to rape that poor woman, who hadn’t looked older than twenty-five, and Kiyomi had been furious when the man had proceeded to try and get on top her when she’d apprehended him.
“Apologize, you fucking bastard, or it’ll be this knife in your disgusting-as-fuck face,” Kiyomi had growled, her mask hiding her entire face, save for her fiery brown-eyed glare. It didn’t take much longer for the man to heed Kiyomi’s warning as the woman struggled to cover herself back up before running away crying. Damn it. Kiyomi hadn’t caught her name, and, chances were, the woman wouldn’t come forward when she found out the man was sentenced to a long fucking time in prison. Thank fuck the police department got one thing about her right: she was minor, so now the man was a pedo. ***
Ha. Take that, asshole.
She was fine now, her anxiety just some quiet voice in the back of her head, but Kiyomi liked walking the streets when they weren’t crawling with criminals. It was nice. The afternoon sun was warm and a light breeze ran through Kiyomi’s long hair. Clouds were on the horizon, threatening the rain that was to come.
Present Mic’s non-stop music must have started by now, but Kiyomi continued on. She’d stop at the convenience store on the corner, pick up an energy drink, and walk back. It was the same convenience store she’d stopped from being robbed last week, but that was Shard. The person at the register would only recognize Kiyomi, spare her a kind smile, and that was it. Kiyomi didn’t mind. She wasn’t one for the spotlight anyway.
Fucking great.
As Kiyomi approached the store, she recognized the same villains she’d scared off last week. Oh no. This was bad, very, very bad. Kiyomi felt herself break out into a run and knock down the door to the store. She’d need to replace that.
What the hell was she doing? Kiyomi really needed to work on her brain, and how it connected to the rest of her body.
“Hey! Get away from him!” Kiyomi stole the attention from the older man who’d been trying to reason with the villains.
There were two of them. The bigger one, who had a jacked face and greasy hair, only grunted as flung a ball of something at her. Kiyomi dodged easily. She was used to dodging bullets. This was nothing.
Another ball of what looked like flesh (okay, ew!) was thrown at Kiyomi as she jumped over the ruined aisles towards the big guy. “Mr. Tanaka’s a nice guy, dudes. Stop fucking with him and leave already.” Oops. Didn’t mean to swear in front of Mr. Tanaka, but sometimes, things happen.
The big guy just grunted again (Could he not talk? Teach him sign language or something.), but couldn’t do anything to stop Kiyomi as she jumped up onto his back and put him in a chokehold.
Come on, come on! Big guys take so long to pass out.
The big dude trashed, reaching for his back as Kiyomi kept her grip strong. After about a minute, he finally passed out and fell to the floor with a thud. The other guy, still tall but thinner, just grabbed the cash register (that’s certainly one way to do it) but had stopped in his tracks when he saw what Kiyomi had done.
“Damn, girl, how strong are you?” The man said under his breath, but Kiyomi advanced, sliding on the floor as she swept a kick at the man’s knees. This didn’t make him fall, but it was enough to get the man to lose his footing for a second, allowing Kiyomi to stand and ram her shoulder into his gut.
Now he’s on the floor, and stunned, too.
Kiyomi took the cash register from the thin one’s arms, who was still gripping it weakly, and gave it back to Mr. Tanaka. She was impressed to see he’d added a lock to it. Mr. Tanaka didn’t look as phased as he should’ve been, more surprised at the damage to his store than Kiyomi taking down two men (who obviously weren’t equipped for the job, the amateurs) twice her size.
Hesitantly stepping over the men as Mr. Tanaka called the police, Kiyomi reached into a shattered refrigerator door and grabbed her usual energy drink.
Hell, at least she worked for it.
Handing over the money to Mr. Tanaka, Kiyomi felt herself start to flush. “Sorry for all the destruction. If you need me to help, I’d be happy to take up a job here.”
Mr. Tanaka smiled, though something in his eyes glimmered as he watched Kiyomi. “It’s alright, Miss Tamatsuki. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last.”
Damn, the old man knew, didn’t he? Stupid, stupid, stupid--
“Alright. If you say so.” Kiyomi started her escape before the police could pull up. But before she left, she turned and held a finger to her lips. Mr. Tanaka nodded with his usual smile and waved at her as she left.
Remember how Kiyomi never wanted to be a hero?
Well, I think you can guess what’s going to happen.