Location: Musutafu – The Todoroki Estate
Date: Sunday | 07:30 PM
CLINK.
The ceramic lid of the rice cooker met the counter with a sharp, lonely sound.
Fuyumi Todoroki stood in the center of the kitchen, her reflection ghosted against the dark window.
The house was too large for three people, and the silence made the cold air feel heavier.
Even with the floor heaters on, the estate always felt like it was stripped of warmth.
Slick. Swish.
Fuyumi stirred the miso soup, her movements mechanical.
She was nineteen, juggling her teaching degree and the crushing weight of a family that had been falling apart since before she could remember.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
Natsuo walked in, the floorboards groaning under his weight.
At fifteen, he was already tall, his face a constant mask of irritation whenever he was within these walls.
He pulled out a chair, the legs screeching against the tile, and slumped into his seat.
"Is he still in his study?" Natsuo asked, not bothering to look at the table.
"He hasn't come out since he got home from the agency," Fuyumi said, keeping her back to him. "He's been... quiet."
"Quiet is better than shouting, I guess," Natsuo muttered.
Click.Thuck.
He picked up a pair of chopsticks and started tapping them against the rim of his empty bowl.
"I saw the news again at the convenience store. Rank three. Best Jeanist actually jumped him. I thought about buying a cake on the way home, just to see the look on that guy's face if I put it in the fridge."
"Natsuo, don't," Fuyumi sighed.
She turned around, carrying two bowls of rice. She set one in front of him. "He's already on edge. He didn't even yell when he saw the morning paper. He just sat there staring at the kitchen wall for an hour. It's unnerving."
"Good. Let him sit in it," Natsuo snapped, his voice rising. "He's spent every second of our lives trying to be the best. He broke Mom and Toya just to reach a number that isn't even his anymore. Watching him fall is the only thing that's made me smile in weeks."
Natsuo took a massive bite of rice, chewing with a grimace.
"I heard he's actually doing it, though," Natsuo said after swallowing. "The rumors at school are all over the hero forums. They say Endeavor signed a contract with that guy—the one who's been making the other agencies look perfect. The Golden Manager, right?"
Fuyumi sat down, her own hands folded in her lap. "It's true. I saw the folder on the entryway table this morning. It had the Arisaka Consulting seal on it. I've heard the other teachers talking about him."
"So what?" Natsuo grumbled. "He's hiring a babysitter for his career. That's not going to change who he is when he walks through the front door."
"I'm not saying it will change him, Natsuo," Fuyumi said softly, her eyes fixed on her bowl.
"But if this manager takes over the agency... if he forces Father to follow a schedule that doesn't involve coming home in a rage because he can't beat All Might... maybe the house will just be quiet for once. Maybe he'll be too busy answering to a specialist to spend his time breathing down our necks."
Natsuo stopped eating, looking at his sister. He saw the dark circles under her eyes.
He knew she wasn't looking for a happy family; she was just looking for a way to stop the bleeding.
SLIDE.
The heavy wooden door at the end of the hall moved.
Shoto stood in the frame. He was twelve, but his eyes looked much older.
He was dressed in his white training gi, his breathing slightly heavy.
His left side was damp, likely from the ice he'd been forced to manifest for hours.
He looked at Fuyumi, then at Natsuo, his expression blank.
"Shoto," Fuyumi said, her voice shifting into that bright, artificial tone she used to shield them. "I was just about to bring a tray to your room. Come sit. Father isn't here."
Shoto lingered in the doorway. He wasn't supposed to eat with them.
The rules of his "training" usually kept him isolated, but Endeavor wasn't patrolling the halls tonight.
"I'm not allowed," Shoto said. His voice was small, almost a whisper.
"Father is in the study with the door locked," Natsuo said, his voice unusually gentle. "Just sit down, Shoto. Eat something that isn't a protein shake for once."
Shoto hesitated, then took three steps into the kitchen.
He sat at the far end of the table, his posture rigid.
Fuyumi quickly placed a bowl in front of him, her hands trembling slightly with the risk they were taking.
"Did he finish the session early?" Natsuo asked, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a red mark on Shoto's wrist.
"He said he had to go over files for tomorrow," Shoto replied. He picked up his spoon but didn't eat. "He told me a guest was coming to the agency. He said everything is going to change."
"A guest," Natsuo scoffed. "He means a handler. Someone to tell him how to be a hero because he forgot how to be a person."
Shoto looked at his brother, then at Fuyumi.
"Who is Arisaka?"
Fuyumi blinked. "You heard us?"
"The house is quiet," Shoto said. "I can hear everything today. Who is he?"
"He's a manager, Shoto," Fuyumi explained. "He's a person who helps heroes organize their work. He's very famous right now. They say he's the smartest man in the hero industry."
Shoto looked back at his food.
He had spent his entire life being told that power was the only thing that mattered. Strength, fire, ice—the things that made his father a monster.
But now, his father was sitting in a dark room because of a man who didn't even have a hero license.
"Will he be there tomorrow?" Shoto asked.
"Yes," Fuyumi said. "He starts at the agency in the morning."
Shoto nodded, finally taking a bite of his rice. He didn't say anything else, but the name stuck in his head.
Later that night, long after Natsuo had gone to sleep and the house had returned to its usual, suffocating silence, Shoto sat on the floor of his room.
He pulled out the tablet he used for his correspondence courses and typed the name in.
Arisaka Kaito.
The screen filled with images. Not of flashy fights or explosions, but of press conferences and spreadsheets.
He saw a picture of a man in a charcoal vest standing next to Best Jeanist.
He saw news and picture of him standing with Ryukyu.
A live video of him with the Wild, Wild Pussycats.
A live stream of him and the pro-hero Selkie.
And lastly many articles about him managing Ingenium and Snipe agencies.
The man looked calm. He didn't have a costume, and he didn't look like he was trying to prove anything. But he had done so much.
Shoto stared at the image. He thought about his father's shouting and the heat of the training room.
Then he looked at the man on the screen, who looked like he could dismantle a burning volcano with a pen.
He closed the tablet and lay down on his futon, the name still echoing in the back of his mind.
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Musutafu – The Endeavor Agency Headquarters
Date: Monday | 08:00 AM
BEEP.
The heavy glass doors of the headquarters slid open, admitting a cool breeze into the lobby.
The space was massive, dominated by polished stone and pillars that felt like they belonged in a fortress.
Usually, this lobby was a place of stiff, military silence where sidekicks moved quickly and kept their heads down.
Today, the silence was gone.
Nearly forty sidekicks were gathered in the main hall.
There was a low, constant hum of conversation.
The energy wasn't tense; it was a mix of genuine excitement and the kind of relief people feel when they think a long storm is finally ending.
Kaito Arisaka walked through the entrance. He wasn't wearing a coat, just a charcoal-grey vest over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
He carried his leather briefcase and a tablet, looking like a man who had come to help, not just to lead.
"He's actually here," a young sidekick near the desk whispered, a wide smile breaking across his face.
"Is that him? The one who handled every rising hero agencies for the past year?" another asked.
"Clear the way! Come on, give the man some air!"
Burnin'—Moe Kamiji—pushed through the crowd.
Her green hair was flickering with bright sparks, and she was grinning so wide her eyes were nearly closed.
She walked straight up to Kaito and gave him a friendly, heavy pat on the shoulder.
"Arisaka! It's about time," Burnin' laughed. Her voice carried through the lobby, bright and loud. "The guys have been staring at the door since six. I think some of them were starting to worry you'd changed your mind after seeing the Boss on the news last night."
Kaito smiled at her, a calm, grounded expression. "It's good to see you again, Kamiji-san. I don't back out of contracts. Especially not when there's this much work to do."
Two men stepped up behind her.
Kido, looking serious in his tactical gear, gave a respectful nod.
Onima, the veteran of the group, stood with his arms crossed, though his usual stern expression was softened by a look of curiosity.
"I'm Kido," the first man said. "I've been looking over the reports from the agencies you worked with for the past year. Honestly, I didn't think it was possible to get response times that low without breaking the speed limit. I'm looking forward to seeing how you do it."
"Onima," the older man said, his voice deep and steady. He uncrossed his arms and offered a hand. "The agency has been... a little loud lately. Since the ranking shift, the Boss hasn't been easy to talk to. We've all been doing our best to keep things running, but I think everyone here is ready for a change in rhythm."
Kaito shook Onima's hand firmly. "I've seen the logs. You've all been working incredibly hard to cover the gaps. It's a lot for one team to handle, especially with the pressure your boss is under right now. I'm here to help you get that weight off your shoulders."
A few of the younger sidekicks nearby let out quiet sighs of relief.
For weeks, the building had been stiflingly hot—both from the Boss's quirk and his temper. Hearing Kaito acknowledge their effort felt like a weight lifting.
Kaito spent some time and familiarizing with the building and the people of the Endeavor Agency.
"So, the plan?" Burnin' asked, leaning in. "You going straight up to the furnace?"
Kaito looked toward the private elevators. "I want to talk to him first, but I'd like to sit down with all of you later today. I want to hear what's actually bothering you on your patrols—not just what's in the reports. We'll have a briefing at noon in the side hall."
"We'll be there," Kido promised. "I'll make sure the night shift sticks around to hear what you have to say."
"Thank you," Kaito said. He looked around the room, making eye contact with a few of the staff members who were still watching him. "I know it's been a rough couple of weeks. We're going to get the agency back on its feet. Together."
The sidekicks parted for him as he moved toward the elevators.
The whispers following him weren't fearful anymore; they were hopeful.
For the first time since the Billboard Chart update, the building felt like it was starting to cool down.
"He's in his office," Burnin' said, her voice dropping a notch as they neared the elevator. "He's been there since four. The air is pretty thin up there, Arisaka. Just a heads up—he's not exactly in a 'welcome' mood."
"I figured," Kaito replied as the elevator doors slid open. "I'll see you at noon, Kamiji-san."
"You got it! Don't let him toast your vest!" Burnin' called out, waving as the doors shut.
Kaito leaned back against the elevator wall as it began its smooth ascent.
He looked at his tablet, pulling up the files on the agency's internal budget.
'The staff is exhausted. They've been walking on eggshells for weeks because Endeavor is obsessed with Rank 1. Step one is making sure these people feel like they're part of a team again, not just fuel for a fire.'
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: (All Might's Office)
Date: 9:11 AM
CLICK. CLACK. CLICK.
The office was quiet, the only light coming from the rows of monitors displaying data on the recent shifts in the hero market.
Sir Nighteye sat at his desk, his glasses reflecting the blue glow of the screens.
Standing by the window, Toshinori Yagi—All Might—looked out over the city.
Even in his suit, his frame was massive, his presence filling the room with a natural warmth that had defined an entire era.
"I sat down with him, Mirai," All Might said, breaking the silence. "Four days ago. We had a long talk about where this is all going."
Nighteye looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable. "You met with Arisaka-kun personally? Without telling me?"
"I wanted to see the man behind the changes for myself," All Might said, turning around with a small, reflective smile. "He's doing something I never could. He's making it so the people don't have to look at the sky and wait for a miracle. He's giving them the tools to stand on their own. The streets feel different, don't they? There's less fear in the air."
Nighteye adjusted his glasses, his fingers moving to a file on his desk. "I've had my own dealings with him. A year ago, right after the Ota Ward incident. I hired him as a specialist to look into All For One's underground financial trail."
"And?" All Might asked.
"He found things my own investigators had walked past for months," Nighteye admitted, his voice tight with professional respect. "He mapped out the money trails for All For One's shell companies. He showed us exactly how those warehouses were being funded just by looking at electricity bills and shipping logs. We wouldn't have found those locations without his data."
All Might nodded, his gaze distant. "I knew him even before that. I knew him when he was just a boy with nothing but a used school uniform and a lot of depression. I know how he worked his way up from the bottom, taking specialist jobs that would let him see how a business runs before entering the hero industry."
"It's a waste," Nighteye said, letting out a short, sharp breath. "A mind like that... it's a shame his Quirk was a biological rejection. If he could move like a pro-hero, he would have been the greatest sidekick in history. Instead, he's sitting behind a desk, rewriting the laws of our society."
"He doesn't need to be on the front lines to change the world, Mirai," All Might said. He walked toward the desk, his expression turning serious. "He's helping the pros be better versions of themselves. He's taming the industry. Even Endeavor has agreed to his terms. Think about that. The man who refused to follow anyone is now following a manager's schedule."
"The impact on the public is undeniable," Nighteye said, looking back at the screens. "The Detnerat-Shield cooperation has made safety a common commodity. But the power is shifting away from the Commission. It's all flowing toward him."
"It's a heavy burden for one man," All Might admitted, his voice softening.
"But Arisaka-shonen isn't hoarding power, Mirai. He's distributing it. Look at the people all over Japan. They aren't looking for a savior anymore; they're looking at their own wrists. He's giving the world its confidence back. If the price for that is a shift in the Commission's ledger, then it's a price I'm willing to pay."
"...."
"...."
The room was silent until...
"Maybe that's what we need," All Might said. He placed a heavy hand on Nighteye's shoulder.
"You've been following me for years now, Mirai. You've been my eyes and my ears, and you've done it better than I could have asked. But the world is changing."
"...."
Nighteye looked up, confused by the sudden shift in All Might's tone. "Toshinori?"
"I think it's time for you to start your own agency," All Might said. His voice was steady and full of conviction. "The Arisaka boy is right about one thing—we can't just be symbols anymore. We need leaders who can manage the future. You've learned everything I have to teach. Go out there and become someone who can surpass even me."
"...."
"...."
Nighteye sat frozen, his mouth opening slightly but no words coming out.
The idea of leaving All Might's side was something he had never even considered.
He looked at the man he had idolized his entire life, and for the first time, he saw that All Might wasn't just being hopeful. He was being serious.
"I... I don't know what to say," Nighteye whispered.
"Hahaha. Don't say anything," All Might laughed, a boisterous sound that shook the room. "Just think about it. I'm getting older. I'm already 51. It's time for the young experts to take the lead."
All Might walked toward the door, leaving Nighteye alone in the dim light of the office, staring at the empty space where the Symbol of Peace had just stood.
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Endeavor Agency – Top Floor (The Inner Sanctum)
Date: Monday | 9:27 AM
CREAK.
Kaito pushed the heavy double doors open.
The heat inside wasn't just a temperature; it was a weight.
The air was thick and dry, the kind of heat that made the back of the throat sting with every breath.
The reinforced glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows was humming, under strain from the constant thermal expansion.
In the center of the room sat Enji Todoroki. He was behind a desk carved from dark, heat-resistant stone.
He was in full costume, his shoulders and mask wreathed in orange flames that licked the air with a low, dangerous hiss.
He didn't look up. He was staring at a screen where Best Jeanist was being swarmed by reporters.
Endeavor's hands were flat on the stone, the surface under his palms turning a dull, glowing red.
"You're late," Endeavor growled. His voice sounded like gravel being crushed.
"I spent twenty minutes in the lobby," Kaito said. He walked to the center of the room, set his briefcase on a chair, and began unbuttoning his vest.
"Your sidekicks look like they haven't slept in a week. If I'm going to run this agency, I need to know the people who actually do the work. You were busy staring at a monitor."
Endeavor finally looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, his face a mask of rigid, barely contained fury.
"I didn't hire you to talk to sidekicks," Endeavor said, his voice rising. "I hired you because Hakamada somehow cheated his way into the number two spot. I want to know what you told him. I want to know why a man who uses thread is suddenly more relevant than the man with the highest resolution count in history."
"He didn't cheat, Enji. He stopped wasting money," Kaito said.
Kaito reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick ledger.
He walked to the desk and dropped it directly onto the glowing stone.
THUD.
"What is this?" Endeavor asked, glaring at the book.
"That's your bill for the last quarter," Kaito replied. "Four hundred million yen in property damage, insurance payouts, and municipal fines. You caught the most villains, but you also melted three blocks of pavement and scorched the side of a hospital. You're the most expensive hero in the country. The public doesn't look at your resolution count anymore; they look at the tax hike needed to fix the streets you leave behind."
Endeavor stood up.
Cracckle-swiish.
The flames on his shoulders flared, hitting the ceiling. "I fight the threats that would level the city if I didn't intervene! Collateral damage is a part of the job. People should be grateful the villains are off the streets."
"People are tired of being grateful for a disaster," Kaito said, his voice remaining level. "Best Jeanist is number two because when he finishes a fight, the only thing that changes is the villain is in handcuffs. There's no fire. No broken glass. No repair bills. He's predictable. You're a liability."
Endeavor leaned over the desk, the heat in the room spiking until the air shimmered. "So what is your suggestion? You want me to use less fire? You want me to hold back while a villain is tearing through a ward?"
"I want you to stop trying to be a symbol," Kaito said. "All Might is a dream. He's something people look at when they want to feel inspired. You're trying to copy his shadow, but you don't have the personality for it. You're scary, Enji. You're aggressive. And right now, you're losing."
"Then what am I?" Endeavor snarled.
"You're a worker," Kaito said. "You have the most resources and the best training in the world. Instead of trying to be the Sun that everyone looks at, I'm going to make you the floor they walk on. I'm going to make you the infrastructure of this country."
Endeavor's flames flickered. He looked confused, the raw anger momentarily fading. "Infrastructure? You want me to be a fireman?"
"I want you to be the reason the city doesn't need firemen," Kaito corrected. "Starting today, your agency isn't just about catching villains. I propose that you're going to lead the National Thermal Response unit. Any fire, any explosion, any heat-based disaster in this country—the Endeavor Agency handles it. We're going to rebrand you as the 'Relentless Shield.' You aren't the guy who burns things; you're the guy who stops the burning."
Endeavor sat back down, the flames on his mask dying down into a low, smoldering red. "And the public? They'll just see me as a glorified civil servant."
"They'll see you as the only thing standing between them and a total loss," Kaito said. "I propose we launch a public app that citizens can report fire risks. Your sidekicks fix them. For free. You'll be in the news every day for helping a neighborhood, not for burning one down. Your resolution count stays high, but your social contribution points will skyrocket."
Endeavor looked at his hands, then at the LED screen still showing Best Jeanist.
"You think this will put me back at the top?" Endeavor asked quietly.
"I think it will make you so necessary that the Hero Commission won't be able to breathe without you," Kaito said. "If you become the foundation of Japan's safety, they have to give you the Rank 1 spot. Not because they like you, but because the country would fall apart if you stopped working."
The room went silent. The groaning of the window frames finally stopped as the temperature in the office began to drop to a manageable level.
Sigh.
Endeavor looked at the blank check he had signed for Kaito.
"It's a different kind of war," Endeavor muttered.
"It's the only one you can win, Enji," Kaito said, picking up his briefcase. "I'll have the first set of revised patrol routes for the tactical teams by noon. I expect you to be at the briefing. Not as the Boss, but as the lead worker."
Endeavor looked at Kaito for a long moment. He felt the sting of his pride being dismantled, but for the first time in weeks, he didn't feel like he was punching a wall. He saw a gap in the armor of the rankings.
"Tomorrow," Endeavor growled, though the edge was gone. "Don't be late again, Arisaka."
"I won't," Kaito said, heading for the door. "And turn the AC on. You're wasting money on the cooling bill."
Kaito walked out, the heavy doors clicking shut behind him.
Thud.
Click.
_-_-_-_
[Author's Note]
Hey everyone, apologies for the slight delay on this chapter! I was out celebrating Holy Week with my family.
Yesterday was Good Friday, so not only was I out participating in a long, exhausting procession, but I was also fasting for the entire day.
Honestly, by the time I sat down to look at my screen, my brain was completely fried and I couldn't think straight enough to write properly (lol). It's a deeply important religious belief and tradition for me, so I appreciate your patience while I took the time for it.
....
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