Ren opened his eyes slowly, and the first thing he registered was pain.
His lips scraped against each other with every breath, completely dry and cracked at the corners. His throat burned with a thirst so intense it felt like he'd spent the night running through a desert instead of having sex in a haunted house.
And his hips… god, his hips hurt like he'd been hit by a truck.
The pain radiated out from his pelvis in waves, a deep ache that made him seriously reconsider every life choice that had brought him to this moment.
A tragic soldier fallen in the line of duty, he thought as he managed to prop himself up on his elbows. Definitely a heroic sacrifice for a noble cause.
He stared at the ceiling of his room, processing the physical devastation his body had endured. Sex with four girls for several hours… just the math of it was terrifying when he stopped to think about it rationally.
Though I've gotta admit, I'm pretty proud of my stamina, he reflected with a small, satisfied smile. I don't know if it's because this hero world has people with better physical conditioning, or if I'm just genuinely that good in bed.
The thought made him pause for a moment. In his previous life, he'd been a complete loser in the romantic and erotic department.
And now here he was, having spent an entire night with four different girls in positions he hadn't even known existed until he'd tried them.
Definitely someone with a natural talent for this stuff, he concluded with inner satisfaction.
He finally managed to sit all the way up on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the cold floor. His legs trembled a little when he tried to stand, and he had to grab the desk to keep his balance.
He took an unsteady step toward the small fridge he kept in the corner of his room and pulled out a bottle of water. He drank it down in long, desperate gulps, feeling the liquid slide down his throat. Half the bottle disappeared in seconds.
Much better, he thought as he caught his breath.
Then his brain decided to remind him of something important: the amusement park employees.
He froze mid-sip, the bottle still pressed to his lips. He remembered it clearly now. While they'd been in the haunted house, at some point during the marathon session, somehow, he'd managed to make sure none of them saw or heard anything. It was like they simply… hadn't perceived a thing.
That was completely weird, he thought, frowning. But mostly, extremely lucky that it worked at the exact right moment.
Just imagining an employee catching him having sex with four girls at once made his stomach churn with anxiety. Expulsion from U.A. would've been immediate. Just a one-way ticket back to civilian life with a humiliating story that would follow him forever.
But how the hell did I do it?
He looked at his right hand, turning it slowly. He remembered the moment clearly: the desperate need for them not to see or hear anything, and then… an invisible barrier that had surrounded the entire room.
He tried to concentrate now, recreating that same mental state. He focused on his hand, willing it to disappear from perception.
Nothing happened.
His hand stayed perfectly visible, five fingers attached to a completely normal palm.
"Come on," he whispered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut and concentrating harder.
Still nothing.
Maybe I need a mirror, he suddenly thought.
He walked over to the small bathroom attached to his room, his steps still a little unsteady from physical fatigue. He flicked on the light and positioned himself in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection with focus.
Pale skin from lack of sun. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. A complete mess, basically.
He took a deep breath and focused again on the same sensation from the night before.
And then it happened.
His reflection in the mirror just… vanished.
"Holy crap," he whispered, taking a step back in surprise.
Everything else stayed perfectly normal. Except him. Where his body should've been reflected, there was only empty space, like he was a vampire without a reflection.
But when he looked at himself directly, his body was still there. Everything perfectly tangible and visible to his own eyes.
Damn, what an incredible ability, he thought with growing excitement.
He raised his right hand and examined it carefully. He could see it perfectly from his own perspective, but when he looked at the mirror, there was nothing.
So somehow I managed to block the perception of the employees and everyone else so they couldn't see or hear us…
The thought kept developing in his mind as he processed the implications. He'd read about similar powers on internet forums discussing Charles Xavier's abilities. The capacity to make people simply not notice something right in front of them.
But this seemed to be something more than simple mental manipulation.
His reflection had physically disappeared from the mirror. That meant the effect wasn't limited to influencing people's minds; it also had some kind of impact on the physical world. Light, sound, maybe even recording devices.
In other words, even if there'd been security cameras or microphones in the haunted house, nobody would've noticed anything, he concluded with relief. Desperate situations make strong men, like, for example, being about to get caught in the act having sex with several girls at once.
The ironic thought made him smile slightly as he kept experimenting with the ability. He tried to make just his hand disappear from the mirror while keeping the rest of his body visible. It worked. Then he tried making his entire torso invisible while his legs stayed visible. That worked too, creating a strange image of floating legs with no body.
The level of control is impressive, he thought with satisfaction. I can choose exactly what I want to hide and what I want to show.
He was so absorbed in his experimentation that he almost didn't hear the knock at his bedroom door.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
The sound snapped him out of his concentration instantly, and his reflection reappeared in the mirror.
A knock? Who the hell would be knocking on my door at this hour?
He glanced at the small digital clock on the bathroom shelf. 10:23 AM. Not that early, actually. He turned his head toward his room, mentally running through his schedule for the day.
Oh, shit.
He'd made plans with Momo to watch anime together today. They'd agreed on it days ago, and with all the chaos of the date at the amusement park with Hagakure, Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Nejire, he'd completely forgotten.
I had such a nice afternoon yesterday that I totally forgot about my date today with Momo, he thought guiltily.
Fortunately, since he rarely ate or spent time in his room beyond sleeping, the space was spotless. No dirty clothes on the floor, no trash scattered around, no suspicious evidence of anything inappropriate. Just a perfectly organized minimalist room that gave the impression of someone disciplined and clean.
But I'm still in my pajama shorts and no shirt, he realized as he looked down at himself.
He was wearing only a loose pair of cotton shorts that served as pajamas, his torso completely bare and his feet without socks or shoes. Definitely not the most presentable state to receive visitors.
Screw it, he decided as he walked toward the door. We're friends, after all.
He opened the door without thinking too much about it, and the sight on the other side made him immediately aware of just how unpresentable he actually was.
Momo was standing in the hallway, dressed in casual but elegant clothes: dark jeans that fit her perfectly and a long-sleeved white blouse that somehow managed to be modest and attractive at the same time. Her long black hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she wore minimal makeup that accentuated her natural beauty.
Momo's eyes went straight to his bare chest. Her face went from its normal pale tone to bright red in less than a second.
"A-Ah! S-Sorry! A thousand apologies for my lack of courtesy!" she exclaimed as she immediately looked away.
Even though Ren was the one standing there shirtless, Momo was acting like she was the one committing a terrible breach of etiquette by "invading" his privacy like this. Her entire body language screamed discomfort and a desperate need to escape the situation.
"I-I can come back later!" she stammered, taking a step back into the hallway. "Y-You clearly weren't ready for visitors, and I should've sent a message first to confirm our plans instead of just showing up unannounced like this, and—!"
"Momo," Ren interrupted her calmly.
She went silent immediately, though her face stayed the color of a tomato.
Trying to regain some composure, she made another attempt to explain her presence:
"We… we had agreed to watch anime together…" Her voice came out slightly strangled. "But I can see you weren't ready! I can wait outside for ten… no, fifteen minutes! Take all the time you need to get dressed properly!"
She gave a formal bow.
"I'll wait for you outside the building until you're… um… presentable! Again, I'm so sorry!"
She spun around quickly, ready to bolt down the hallway and hide in some hole, but Ren's hand shot out and gently grabbed her wrist.
"Why would you wait outside the building?" Ren asked, his voice calm and a little confused. "It doesn't matter. We're friends, so come inside. Just give me a couple of minutes to throw on a shirt."
Did I just use a little bit of telepathy to calm her down? he wondered internally, noticing how her eyes had gone slightly blank for a second. Oh no, she's just still in shock. Damn, for a second I thought my telepathy was working automatically now.
Momo tried to protest, her mouth opening and closing without producing any coherent words, but Ren gently pulled her toward the entrance of his room.
"Besides," he added with a small, amused smile, "I've already seen your bare breasts, so let's call it even."
Momo's face went from red to a shade of crimson that probably shouldn't exist in nature. Her thoughts clearly spiraled into total chaos, and the memories of that incident during training came back to her vividly.
"I… you… that was… we were…!" she babbled, unable to form a complete sentence.
Ren just smiled and gestured toward his bed.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
Still completely flustered and with her mind in absolute disarray, Momo nodded weakly and stepped into the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap, her posture perfectly straight and formal despite the bright red blush covering her face and spreading down her neck.
Mission accomplished, he thought with satisfaction as he pulled a simple black T-shirt out of the small closet. Now I just need to survive a couple of hours of anime without making things even more awkward.
Meanwhile, in a small café on the other side of the city.
"For the last time, Makoto," Naomasa said as he massaged his temples, "I know exactly as much as you do about the Trigger case, which is absolutely nothing."
His sister, Makoto, was sitting across from him with her arms crossed. Her long black hair was slightly messy.
"That's impossible," she insisted, leaning forward over the small table. "You're working directly with the Hero Commission on this. There has to be some kind of clue, some trail, something that—"
"There isn't," Naomasa interrupted, taking a long sip of his coffee. "So far there are no real leads, and I have absolutely no idea who's behind the distribution of Trigger. The only thing we know is that a teacher and two students took down the enhanced villain. That's it."
Makoto frowned, drumming her fingers on the table in a nervous rhythm.
"Speaking of which…" she said slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought, "how is it possible that someone with a Quirk that puts people to sleep, like Nemuri, managed to take down an enhanced villain?"
Naomasa raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Makoto continued, leaning back in her chair, "I'm not doubting my friend's strength or anything like that, but I know the effects of Trigger. Enhanced villains have massively boosted physical capabilities and mental resistance. Influencing the mind or perception of someone in that state should be almost impossible. So how did Midnight's Quirk work on him?"
Naomasa took another sip of coffee, considering the question.
"It's simpler than it looks," he finally said. "One of the students, the bald kid, used telekinesis and punched a hole through the villain's face. That created an opening for Nemuri's Quirk to get in and take effect on him."
The effect of his words was immediate.
Makoto's eyes went wide, her hand freezing halfway to her own coffee cup. She stared at her brother for a long moment, her brain clearly processing something important.
Then she slammed her hand down on the table hard enough to rattle the coffee cups.
SLAM!
"THAT'S IT!" she exclaimed loud enough that several other café customers turned to look at them with annoyed expressions.
Naomasa sighed.
"Care to share with the class?"
"A bald kid with telekinesis from U.A.!" Makoto said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Don't you think that's weird, Naomasa?!"
"Weird in what sense?" he asked.
She flashed him a radiant smile.
"I'm talking about the paper bag hero! The kid and the vigilante both have telekinesis. Coincidence? I don't think so!"
Naomasa set his coffee cup down carefully, his expression turning serious.
"You're saying that bald kid from U.A. is the one who took down the villains at the convenience store."
"Exactly!" Makoto confirmed enthusiastically. "I think it was him! No, I'm sure it was him!"
"Makoto…" Naomasa began in a warning tone.
But his sister was already grabbing her bag and jacket, her movements quick and decisive.
"I need to go check on this," she said, already heading for the exit. "If I can confirm it's the same person, then we've got our first real lead and—"
"Makoto, wait!" Naomasa called after her, standing up quickly.
But she was already out the door, moving at top speed. Naomasa ran after her, but by the time he reached the sidewalk, his sister had already disappeared around the corner.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the empty street where she'd vanished, before letting out a long, suffering sigh.
"You're not even a detective," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "My sister is a complete headache."
He pulled out his phone, considering whether he should call someone at U.A. to warn them about an overenthusiastic idiot who might be about to cause trouble.
Though I have a feeling this is going to end badly for everyone involved, he thought as he headed back into the café to pay for their unfinished coffees.
Back in his room, Ren had finally put on a shirt and was now sitting at his desk while Momo remained perched on the edge of his bed, still looking vaguely mortified by the whole situation.
"So," Ren said, trying to break the awkward silence, "what did you wanna watch?"
Momo looked up, clearly grateful for the change of subject.
"I… I thought we could watch something you'd recommend," she said, her voice recovering some of its normal composure. "What do you think?"
"Sounds good to me."
Ren opened his laptop and logged into the streaming site.
********
Chapter 2 of the 7 I promised is here! Let's kick off the Sunday right—and if you'd like to support my work, feel free to join the Patreon at patreon.com/itszeroo