My hero academia:Am I worthy?

Through a thousand computer screens, society of quirks has come to depend on public opinion. Each quirk is unique, and every person has the right to showcase what fate has bestowed upon them. In the era of the digital boom, after the war with the quirks, which is not often recalled, during peacetime, people began to share their quirks online, receiving approval, envy, disdain, criticism, and threats. People found it amusing how often they turned themselves into a commodity in both the literal and figurative senses. There were also opinion leaders, as the internet is a free platform where people have the means of self-expression; they utilized this to capture the masses' attention by promoting their ideas. Heroes were also not left out of the internet scene; there were influencers who promoted positive ideas such as heroism, altruism, and generosity among the people. But as is customary in a vast ocean, for every fish, there is always a larger predator. The famous heroes of Japan's top ten had their influence on the internet. Hundreds of users and subscribers not only followed their idols in life for their feats but also online. The influence on the media platform became a sort of advertisement for their persona as a hero, and many hero agencies, which had unique and bright quirks that attracted the attention of hundreds of people, actively promoted their heroes and agencies, creating a buzz around the new hero. However, everything has a price; behind the facade of pompous heroic phrases and bright, beautiful costumes, among this swamp of media product, lurked a spirit named Re Destro.

As a businessman, oppositionist, and leader of his ideology, which people adore for the recognition of their individuality, thanks to Mr. Destro, numerous hospitals, laboratories, and social institutions were opened to help people accept their uniqueness if they had doubts. For a relatively low price compared to psychologists, Destro's company quickly displaced many people in that profession, leaving them unemployed, but such a loss of human resources would be sacrilegious. As a savvy businessman, he bought up bankrupt assets that had a chance of rising in the future. Despite his generosity and good public opinion, he, as a person, had his convictions and, like an ordinary person, felt hatred towards those who didn't conform to his ideology.

People without quirks were unnecessary to anyone — neither the government nor society. Only humanitarianism kept people from open violence against the quirkless. Destro saw how the population of quirkless individuals decreased year by year for various reasons. Children born without quirks were doomed to a hungry death. The elderly who lived to be 60 or more were forced to live on the streets, begging for alms. Young people often suffered mental and physical abuse from their peers for not conforming to the usual society that people were accustomed to seeing.

Re Destro could not turn a blind eye to this problem. He saw it, analyzed it, and developed strategies. After all, if the system does not accept the weak, then the weak must adapt or disappear.

He understood that he could not simply declare war on the quirkless as a private businessman, but as a politician, that changed the matter — society was not yet ready for open confrontation. Instead, he used more sophisticated methods. Like a lurking predator, his ideology slowly sank its teeth into the victim, injecting it with poison.

He supported the ideas of natural selection, but not in a crude form. No, he created conditions in which the quirkless found themselves unnecessary and isolated. They were fired from jobs, had their rights limited, and were pushed to the fringes of life. Officially, no one broke the law, but society itself decided what to do with those who "did not fit in."

On internet platforms controlled by his people, posts increasingly appeared, mocking the quirkless, calling them relics of the past. Supported by opinion leaders, these ideas penetrated the consciousness of millions.

Thanks to his considerable wealth, he made advantageous deals with media outlets, seizing new horizons and wrapping his tentacles around unique niches that held potential. Books were written about him, documentaries were filmed featuring him, fueling public interest in his persona, and even those who were unfamiliar with his biography knew something about him, albeit distantly. As a minority, the scattered quirkless individuals had to endure such treatment. Everything depended on where in Japan the ideology of the unusual, according to societal standards, was spread.

"I completely understand. Your proposal is very good, but we are an independent media outlet that must broadcast the truth for the good of society," said the director of one of the largest media giants in the country, politely. Sitting across from his business partner, Re Destro smirked at his rhetoric.

"Of course, Mr. Serizawa, I have nothing against your company. I am simply proposing a collaboration that benefits both parties," Destro said confidently, adjusting his hair with a smile.

"And what kind of collaboration are you proposing?" he chuckled, looking at the inspirer of many people.

"Actually, it's quite simple. I will fund your articles, providing you with money, and you need to write several provocative materials." Serizawa raised an eyebrow, realizing the seriousness of the topic they would have to discuss.

"Provocative?" He leaned forward, intertwining his fingers. Knowing what goal Destro was pursuing, Serizawa tensed, understanding that his opponent was trying to bribe him.

"You do understand that our media holding adheres to neutrality, don't you?"

Re Destro merely smirked, not looking away. He had come knowing that this collaboration with such a media giant as "AO Media Holding" would elevate his reputation in the eyes of followers, which would be increasing day by day.

"Oh, of course. But isn't truth subjective?" His voice was warm, almost friendly, but concealed other darker dealings.

"You are a professional, Mr. Serizawa. You know that society reacts to sensational headlines. People love to read not only facts but also… interpretations." The head of the media giant did not reply immediately. He understood perfectly where this man was leading. Destro's joining their media holding would attract even more public attention to their company, and realizing all the prospects, Serizawa decided that this would be a good source of income.

"What specific articles do you want?" he asked after a short pause. Re Destro smiled wider. His broad smile sent a shiver down Serizawa's spine, for through his quirk of mimicking human expressions, he could sense his opponent's intentions.

"Simple ones. About how crime among the quirkless is rising. About how they cannot adapt to society. About how they are disappearing as a species." Serizawa frowned.

"That… sounds like inciting hatred and discrimination," he raised his tone, but Destro, anticipating such a turn of events, smoothed over the edges, not allowing him to grasp the full extent of his intentions.

"Oh, not at all." Destro shook his head, pretending to be genuinely surprised by his response.

"We are merely presenting facts. A few surveys, interviews with experts, some stories about how the quirkless failed at work or became involved in criminal schemes. These are true cases, after all?" Realizing the entire situation and the profit he could gain by doing the same thing his company does every day but changing the headline, Serizawa was intrigued by the further prospects.

"You want to create public fear?" Re Destro clasped his hands together, looking at the media director who caught the essence of what he was trying to convey indirectly.

"No, I want to create public discussion. So that people start to think and express their uniqueness. This way, I want to show that one should not be ashamed of their uniqueness. One should be ashamed of not being unique, like the quirkless." He gave his interlocutor a few seconds to ponder before adding,

"In return, your holding will receive generous investments, advertising contracts with my enterprises, and support from several large companies that care about the future of Japan." Serizawa knew that this was not just a proposal. It was a test. Either he agrees, or his company will soon face financial, legal, and reputational problems.

"Hmm, your proposal is quite tempting, but in case of public outrage and hatred, can I count on your help in resolving this conflict?" he asked, although he was risking his company's name. Destro, hearing his partner's question, simply smiled.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Serizawa. I would not have come to you if I were not giving guarantees for that. My partners will ensure your safety."

Serizawa carefully studied Re Destro, evaluating his words. He understood that he was not just dealing with a businessman, but with a person who controlled public opinion like an experienced puppeteer. An internal conflict raged within him, but the prospects opening up for his media holding outweighed his moral doubts.

"Alright, Mr. Destro," he finally said, leaning back in his chair and finally agreeing with his business partner.

"I accept your offer. However, I will need a guarantee that in case of problems from the public or government, you will provide us support." Re Destro smiled and nodded, as if he already knew how Serizawa would respond. Knowing that the government and the public safety commission had begun digging dirt on him, Re Destro decided that it was worth having support in all corners of the country.

"Of course. I don't just promise; I guarantee it. I have the necessary connections and influence to smooth over any spikes of discontent. Your holding will be protected, and our joint materials will bear fruit." Serizawa picked up a pen from the table and ran his fingers along the edge of the agreement. The document was drafted in such a way that formally his company retained independence, but in reality, it became a tool for Re Destro's ideology.

"In that case, I believe we have reached an agreement," he said, signing the document with a flourish. Re Destro, satisfied with the outcome of the negotiations, carefully took the second copy and signed it as well.

"Congratulations to us, Mr. Serizawa. This is the beginning of a long and productive partnership." He stood up, extended his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, the media holding director shook it. This handshake signified something more than just a business partnership. It was an agreement to participate in the formation of a new social order. His sharp nose twitched slightly, but his face remained calm.

"In the coming days, my team will send you the first theses for publications. We will start with a soft approach, gradually intensifying the message." Serizawa nodded, putting the document away in his desk safe.

"I will ensure that the materials are presented with maximum persuasiveness and accuracy." Re Destro bowed slightly, signaling that the meeting was over.

—I'm glad to hear it. May progress be with us, Mr. Serizawa.

He turned and confidently left the office. The door closed softly, leaving Serizawa alone with his thoughts. He knew he had made a choice that would change a lot. The only question was what it would lead to. His anxiety shifted in another direction, realizing that thanks to this man, he could either dominate or pose a strong competition to his media business rivals, turning into a monopolist.

****

In the structure of society, when everyone possesses equal rights and all can achieve equal living conditions, there was social stratification. Politicians and scholars traded their conscience, while scholars and those who considered themselves smarter than others sold the products of their intellect, and the ordinary people and working class sold their muscles to survive. All of them were renewable resources except for human muscles, which year by year became fewer and fewer. When this resource runs out, the working-class person has nothing left to do but die of hunger, unfit for one and unwanted by another.

"I declare as an honest servant of the people that I promise we will improve healthcare and finance all possible unions for equality across all professions," declared the mayor of the city in his luxurious suit, with an ideal appearance and security behind him, while all possible attention was focused on him. Everything was like water pouring into people's ears, muffling them.

The abyss of the social structure that the desk-bound worms had never seen in their lives. When they spoke one way, believing like little children in the best, but on the other side, something entirely different was happening. By exchanging their time for goods and services, a person had no idea how they signed themselves up for humiliation. At work, using their quirks was not allowed, and in public, the use of quirks was illegal. The system invented heroes as a distraction from the gray, oppressive reality. Heroes tried to do everything to make everything seem bright and colorful, delighting the secret childhood desires of people who were untainted by the gray mass and the contempt of various attacks from society that also wanted to be like them but, for certain reasons, could not become them.

A crowd gathered in front of the stage, where the mayor continued his speech. Cameras hovered in the air, capturing what was happening for a live broadcast, and news anchors were already preparing to analyze every word he said.

"We will increase funding for educational programs!" declared one of the officials who spoke next.

"Young people must have equal opportunities, regardless of their background!"

"The government will allocate additional funds to support small businesses," another chimed in.

"We believe in entrepreneurs creating jobs for citizens!"

"The social assistance program will be revised, and we will provide housing and medical care for all in need!" loudly added a third, as if afraid to be left behind by his colleagues. Applause sounded uncertainly, but the cameras captured the satisfied faces in the front rows, where specially selected extras were seated. In the crowd, however, were many who had heard similar promises dozens of times and no longer believed in change.

"We need to trust each other!" continued the mayor, spreading his arms as if calling people to unity.

"Only together can we build a better future."

While some grew rich earning millions, dressing in luxurious clothes and suits made by the hands of ordinary inhabitants of social jungles, who toiled away just to feed themselves with bread for their labor. Traders earned hundreds, if not thousands, using the products of their intellect to turn a simple product into a similar one, but adding beautiful words and the conviction that by wearing these clothes, you become special.

****

Sitting in his office, Destro pondered despite the surrounding atmosphere. Cameras tracked him, capturing his expressions and gestures, even though he was live on air under the gazes of hundreds, if not thousands, of people across Japan.

Recently, a vigilante known as Silent Phantom and several heroes had disrupted the transportation of valuable goods that were supposed to fall into the right hands. Collaborating with the Miyamoto family, he also shared a stake with that family. The fact that Phantom attacked the convoy meant he was already plotting his game against him.

"Yotsubashi-san, are you alright?" asked the TV host with a concerned expression. Returning to reality from his thoughts, Destro looked at his fans holding placards with his name.

"Yes, Sadao, I'm fine. Just one phrase brought me back to the beginning of my journey," Destro smiled, regaining his confident demeanor and calming his fans.

"Hmm, if you don't mind, could you tell us more about the beginning of your journey as a leader of the ideology of quirk supremacy?" Destro cursed the host for asking such a question. His stress level was at 5%, but that was enough to easily snap the opponent's neck.

"In fact, most information about myself is freely available online. I never hide anything from my followers. As a leader, I must be honest," he said amidst applause and a flood of supportive comments with hearts being sent during the live broadcast.

"But there is one detail that even my most devoted fans do not know." Intriguing the audience, Destro made his signature gesture, causing a shiver among the audience.

"If it's not too much trouble, would you honor us by sharing such good information?" said the host with a polite tone, looking out the window behind him, where the night city shimmered.

"Certainly. So let's start with the fact that when I was young and full of enthusiasm to help people, I assisted those in need and even wanted to become a hero so that my gift would serve the good of society." Stopping, Destro took a pause to sip some water to moisten his throat.

"The older I grew, the more I became convinced that improving people's lives not only saved them from evil but also prevented crime. I began providing aid to the underprivileged and built hospitals at my own expense, eliminating the side effects of quirks." Destro paused, allowing the viewers to digest his words. Active discussions began in the comments—some admired his nobility, while others skeptically asked what price these "improvements" were achieved at. However, his fans quickly drowned out the critics, flooding the chat with hearts and words of support.

"But with each passing year, I saw how the world repeatedly rejected change and the new order," he continued, intertwining his fingers and leaning slightly forward.

"I was struck by how those I helped continued to cling to outdated ideals, refusing to acknowledge the truth. They believed everyone was equal, that anyone could succeed if they just worked hard." He smirked, momentarily lowering his gaze and recalling the recent events in Hosu, which were referred to as the "quirkless vendetta."

"Many quirkless people, in my opinion, are ignorant. If you reproach me for not helping them, you are gravely mistaken. I helped everyone without exception." He replied, adjusting his tie and looking into the camera as the audience began to applaud before he finished his statement.

"They believe in God, can you imagine? God is dead, and before he died, he gave us quirks, and instead of accepting the new reality, these ignorant people continue to believe in him." Destro's tone rose as he recalled how the quirkless, in his eyes, were essentially ignorant, but it was comforting that they had no social or political power.

"How naive, isn't it?" Destro looked back at the camera, and a cold conviction sparkled in his eyes.

"The world has never been equal. And it never will be. We must accept that not everyone is born equal in this society. If you stand above in status and position, then equality essentially diminishes you to the level of the middle class, which is offensive." The crowd buzzed. Someone in the hall applauded, while another shouted his name. In the chat, approving comments poured in, emphasizing his correctness.

"I realized that if I truly wanted to change this world, I needed more than just to donate money to charity. I needed to create a system where those with quirks could live without hiding their strength. Where they could use their gifts without fear of being judged by a society that fears their capabilities." The host swallowed nervously but quickly pulled himself together.

"So you believe that the current system oppresses people with quirks?" the host asked nervously, fiddling with his shirt, realizing that his question had led to trouble.

"I don't believe it, I know it," Destro confidently replied, not hiding his irritation at the host who dared to remind him of an unpleasant incident.

"Look at the laws that restrict the use of quirks in public places. Look at how many children grow up with suppressed potential because they are told from a young age: 'Your power is a threat; control it.' Isn't that mockery? Isn't it more just to allow everyone to unleash their potential rather than hide it behind the facade of 'the common good'?" The crowd erupted in applause. Messages flooded in the chat.

"Destro is right!

We are being held back!"

"Why should we hide?!"

"It's time for change!" The host nervously adjusted his tie but decided to continue.

"And yet, there are those who consider your approach radical. What would you say to them?" Destro smirked. He knew that along with popularity, there would be those who would hate him, but he paid no attention to such pathetic people who had achieved nothing in their lives.

"Radical? Hmm… I would ask them: what in this world has changed without radical actions? History shows that freedom is not given—it is taken." He leaned closer to the microphone and spoke almost in a whisper.

"And I do not intend to stop." The crowd erupted in cheers. With this provocative statement, he wanted to finish today's speech, recalling the recent incident with the boy who attracted public attention with a gun in his hands.

"I hope you all saw the latest news. A quirkless boy, finding a gun, decided to take revenge on his bullies. He did not attempt to resolve the issue peacefully or resort to diplomacy; instead, he chose to use force." He responded, listening to the discontented rumble from his fans, but it was not directed at him, but rather about the mention of the quirkless boy who pointed a gun at the negotiator and shot him.

"Yotsubashi-san, I appreciate your contribution to our society, but we must end this evening. We have exceeded our television broadcasting time." Destro smirked, leaning back in his chair. His gaze slid over the face of the host, which was frozen in concern. But that was unimportant. What mattered was what he felt—the thrill. He knew the audience was in his hands, and it was time to take the next step.

"But you know what's most interesting about this story?" — he continued, allowing his voice to take on a barely perceptible mocking tone.

"This boy Ishida, this quirkless one, didn't just pick up a weapon to scare his bullies; he wanted to kill them. And if it weren't for the timely intervention of law enforcement, I fear to imagine what would have happened next." Not hiding his concerns, Destro sided with the children who had bullied Ishida, portraying the bullies in a better light than Ishida, who was quirkless.

"Can you imagine the grief the parents of those children would have felt if Ishida had gotten to them? He would have killed good members of society who could have changed the world. Luckily, they are all fine."

"But the most striking thing," — Destro continued, leaning back in his chair and crossing his fingers, — "is the reaction of his family. Instead of condemning their son's actions, they began to look for excuses. They blamed society, the teachers, even the victims themselves. How convenient, isn't it?" The crowd buzzed. Comments began to appear.

"Typical quirkless logic!"

"First they whine about equality, and then they grab a weapon!"

"Just think about it," — Destro's voice became colder, — "they say that this boy was driven to it. That he had no choice. But does a person worthy of respect act like this? Don't such actions reveal his true nature?"

The crowd erupted with supportive shouts. The host swallowed but Destro did not give him a chance to speak.

"Let's be honest. We all know that the quirkless are an outdated relic of the past. They refuse to acknowledge that the world has changed. They cling to their weaknesses, hiding behind laws, complaints, and empty words about equality. But when they are faced with the truth, what do they do? They grab weapons."

"Exactly! They are just weak!"

"The quirkless are a threat to society!"

"Destro speaks the truth!"

The emotions of the fans boiled over. In the hall, cheers of support could be heard. Someone even raised a placard that read: "Quirked individuals are the future!"

"Do you know what the mother of that boy said when she learned he pointed a gun at his peers?" — Destro smirked. "She said: 'He was just defending himself.'"

The crowd erupted in laughter. The comments in the chat filled with mockery and angry messages:

"Defending himself?! He's a budding killer!"

"These quirkless always hide behind pity!"

"How sad…"

"But unfortunately, friends," — Destro spread his hands, — "there are many like him. They are everywhere. Hiding among us, envying, hating, waiting for the moment. Should we wait until they start acting?"

The crowd screamed. Some began chanting his name. The host tried to interject, but fell silent when Destro cast a predatory glance at him.

"We cannot allow this to happen again," — he stood up, raising his hand. "And if the authorities do not take action — we will take it ourselves."

The noise in the studio reached a peak. In the comments, calls for tightening laws against the quirkless appeared, discussions about how to protect the "real" society, even proposals to create an initiative promoting Destro's ideals.

He knew: the seeds he had sown would take root.

Sitting in his office, surrounded by hundreds of papers and reports for his superiors, Tadao couldn't help but reflect on his position. Since the recent incident with the boy Ishida, he realized how they had been bullied at school. Such cases were not uncommon, but they rarely went beyond the walls of the educational institution. As he signed another form regarding the boy's well-being and safety, Tadao let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair until the silence of his thoughts was interrupted by a radio call directed at him. After waiting a few seconds, he picked up the radio and replied.

"Sir, a guest has arrived and wishes to see you." Surprised that someone would come at such a late hour, Tadao shrugged and let the guest into his office.

"Let them into my office." The private quickly replied in agreement and disconnected from the radio. Looking toward the door, he wondered who it could be but then involuntarily smiled, realizing who it might be.

A blonde woman with sharp teeth and dressed in ordinary civilian clothes entered the office. Clad in jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt, along with a light brown jacket, Ryukyu presented herself to Tadao in all her glory.

"I should have guessed you'd come today." Upon seeing the familiar face with whom he had a good relationship for eight years, Tadao smiled slightly, appreciating her in casual clothes rather than in her heroic outfit.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Hado?" Playfully smiling, she looked at Tadao, who responded with excitement.

"Your visits are always unexpected, Ryu, and the funny thing in this situation is that in ordinary civilian clothes, you're quite hard to recognize." Tadao purred in response, noticing a bag with unknown contents in his friend's hand. Sitting beside the table, Ryukyu placed the bag down.

"I hope this isn't your cooking that almost made me die from the spiciness of the dish?" Ryukyu laughed, shaking her head.

"No, this time I got food from a restaurant. I see you still remember that incident," she said with a smirk, unpacking a container of noodles from the bag. Tadao snorted, recalling how he had nearly choked on her signature curry, generously seasoned with spices.

"I wouldn't call it an 'incident.' It was an assassination attempt," he replied sarcastically, taking the container of food and momentarily distracted from his paperwork.

"In any case, appreciate this; I don't often get to cook. And hey, it's my quirk: dragons dull the senses, so I cooked this with an emphasis on myself," she replied, opening the container with food while holding chopsticks. Looking at the food, Tadao smiled.

"You didn't have to bring me food; we still have leftovers from lunch in the cafeteria." Remembering the food in the cafeteria, Ryukyu snorted, recalling the dishes that were served there.

"The last time I ate there was three years ago, and just thinking about those greasy chicken cutlets gives me goosebumps." Slightly shuddering at the memories, Ryukyu wished him a pleasant meal before starting to eat.

"Okay, enough about food; tell me how things are going on your front." After the incident with Ishida, his rib still ached; he didn't blame the boy, but he blamed himself for making Nejire worry. Tadao sighed, putting down his chopsticks and leaning back in his chair.

"Honestly, everything is not as smooth as I would like it to be," he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"After the incident with Ishida, the higher-ups are on edge. Inspections, reports, bureaucratic red tape... As if the paperwork is more important than the real problems." Ryukyu frowned, chewing her noodles. She understood Tadao, as she often stayed late at work, making it difficult for them to go anywhere after.

"How's the boy, and how's your injury?" Ryukyu asked, concerned for her friend's well-being.

"I'm fine, Ryu, but the boy is not doing very well," Tadao replied sadly, recalling how he had rushed into his mother's arms, unable to hold back tears.

"When I was with them to ensure his safety, I saw many scars and bruises on the boy's back. He gave me all the statements, during which I discovered that he had been cruelly bullied for six months and somehow managed to hide it from his parents." Tadao took a large bite of noodles, shaking his head negatively, but Ryukyu's growl slightly pulled him out of his enjoyment.

"All this time, the boy's parents turned a blind eye to this?" In anger, Ryukyu's wooden chopsticks in her hands broke from her strength.

"The boy hid it himself and explained that if he told his parents, they would start hitting him harder. Scared Ishida, of course, said nothing."

"Still, the parents could have tried to inquire about their child's life." Ryukyu's fate was not similar to Ishida's, but as a top-10 hero, she couldn't disregard the lives of people.

"The boy's parents are good people, but due to their precarious situation, they rarely get to talk to their son. They have to work in tough jobs to pay the bills and provide their child with a decent future." Setting aside the noodles, Tadao now looked at Ryukyu's face, which shifted from irritation to understanding.

"I understand; you must have solved his problem?" she asked hopefully, but seeing the gloomy expression on his face, she immediately wilted.

"I went to the school and found out that the principal and teachers turned a blind eye to the bullying. I arrested and interrogated them, and they all admitted their guilt. I interrogated the bullies' parents and the bullies themselves with my colleagues, warning them that if their children continued this behavior, they would lose their parental rights." Finishing the report before Ryukyu, Tadao saw a sad expression on her face.

"I hope they are fully compensated." She looked hopefully at the boy's future, but Tadao's next words brought her back to grim reality.

"They were compensated, but that family moved from Hosu back to Hiroshima. Ishida wanted to return to where he was born, and his parents' actions are commendable. Not every parent is willing to fulfill their child's request." Ryukyu thoughtfully ran her tongue over her fang, contemplating what she heard.

"You know… maybe it's for the best," she quietly said, looking at the container of noodles, but clearly thinking of something else. Tadao nodded, but sadness was evident in his eyes.

"Yes… I understand. They made the right choice. But I still feel like I let that boy down." Ryukyu sighed and placed her hand on his, looking into Tadao's blue eyes. With her sharp cat-like pupils, she gazed into his warm blue eyes, which were watching her concern with interest.

"You didn't let him down, Hado. You gave him a chance. Even if not here, even if not as you wished, he is now safe. That's what matters." Tadao pondered, looking at the messy pile of documents illuminated by the desk lamp. Exhaling, he sat back in his chair, viewing Ryukyu differently now.

"Even though this story ended well, what about you? How are your internships going? Or whatever else is going on in the hero profession?" Ryukyu sighed heavily, just like Tadao, as she sat back in her chair. The internships for new heroes from the academies and the advertising contracts that maintained their public image were extremely exhausting, making simple communication with ordinary people feel like a luxury.

"How do I put it? Advertising contracts. Although I'm not happy about it, as I want to spend my time saving people, the marketing department keeps persuading me to sign advertising contracts for figurines, food, and more." Ryukyu complained, twisting in her chair, trying to forget the nightmare surrounding her. Seeing how many heroes, in pursuit of fame, signed increasingly unbearable contracts, Tadao smirked as he listened to her complaints.

"Sounds like torture. Although, for some, it's probably a dream to be the face of an advertising company." Ryukyu sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair, looking at the ceiling as she tried to distance herself from the advertising chaos.

"Oh, believe me, there are such people. Some young interns only dream of contracts, TV shows, and autograph sessions. They care more about how they look on camera than the real work. Recently, I got one intern… You should have seen him, Hado. He literally ran around with his phone, filming himself during patrols and responding to followers in a live stream while I was dealing with hostages." Tadao raised an eyebrow skeptically. It wasn't uncommon for him to encounter such arrogant fools. He often had to do the dirty work while the hero posed for the cameras, but complaints about their names quickly put them in their place.

"And you didn't kick him out right away?" Ryukyu turned her gaze back to him, rolling her eyes.

"I tried!" Ryukyu huffed in irritation.

"But, you know, the marketing and PR department said he was 'promising' and 'boosts the agency's popularity.' In the end, he continued to run after me with a camera while I did my job." Tadao merely shook his head, taking another bite of noodles, to which he had already become accustomed.

"I remember a time when heroes didn't try to profit from their faces but just worked for the good of society." He reminisced fondly about his younger days working alongside Ryukyu, who was just debuting as a professional heroine, taking her job too seriously.

"Yeah… And even worse are those who seriously believe that heroism is a path to fame and fortune. I once had an intern who seriously claimed he wanted to become the new Endeavor, but not in terms of power, more in terms of marketing." Tadao nearly choked from surprise.

"You're kidding?" Not believing her words, Tadao said as the noodles burned his tongue.

"I wish I were… He even developed his own logo while we were on a mission." Ryukyu rubbed her nose.

"I'm not saying marketing is evil, but heroism shouldn't be secondary. And for many newcomers, that's how it turns out: first popularity, then everything else. Remember how many times inexperienced heroes jumped into fights just for the hype, and it ended in disaster?" Ryukyu explained her viewpoint, despising this part of the job.

"You're right. I also can't stand arrogant fools. Especially, I hate working with Kamui Woods." Tadao set the container down on the table and intertwined his fingers, looking at her.

"But you're not one of them." She looked at him with a slight smile.

"Of course not. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here; I'd be filming an energy drink commercial." She waved her hand jokingly, looking at Tadao with her vertical pupils.

"And you'd probably love it."

"Pff, don't even start!" They both laughed, but deep down, they understood the issue was indeed serious. The new world of heroes was changing, and not always for the better. For Ryukyu, popularity and fame were not a priority, and if it were up to her, she would prefer to be like Mt. Lady, but Ryukyu was a modest and gentle person who praises where it's deserved and doesn't expect gratitude in return. She always maintained her composure in battle situations. Ryukyu sees talent where it's needed and is willing to give challenging tasks to those she believes can handle them.

"In all this whirlwind of marketing and heroic work, I just want to connect with people, not as a dragon hero but as Ryukyu Tatsuma." Leaning on her elbows, she grabbed her head, fidgeting with her well-groomed hair. Tadao, understanding that she was suffering from loneliness, never told her that he didn't have time for her.

"Have you tried connecting with the top-10 heroes? I think by status, you could find common ground."

"If only. Tadao, all I hear from them is how to outdo each other in ratings and come up with super moves for social media, public image, and competition for promising interns."

Tadao stared thoughtfully at his noodles, listening to Ryukyu's complaints. He knew that the life of a professional hero was full of not only battles and saving people but also endless paperwork, marketing, and politics. However, it was rare to see his old friend so openly express her disappointment.

"So you feel like an outsider among your own?" he finally said, raising his gaze. Ryukyu smirked, but a hint of sadness was evident in her eyes.

"You could say that," she shrugged.

"I'm not against competition, but when it all comes down to PR, it starts to irritate. And even worse, when you can't trust your colleagues because they might shift all public attention for the sake of ratings." Tadao nodded, understanding her feelings. She sympathized with Tadao since he did not abuse his powers and tried to solve everything through justice and law, no matter how imperfect the system was.

"I work with people who are used to following orders, maintaining subordination. In our line of work, betrayal is a death sentence," he paused for a moment, then continued:

"But I often see how the system breaks even the best." Ryukyu sighed and rubbed her temples. Being able to see and interact as people rather than heroes was refreshing. Smiling at Tadao's words, Ryukyu stood up from her chair and approached him. Tadao also stood up from his chair. She placed her hand on his chest, rubbing his strong muscles. Through his shirt, Hado felt a shiver from her touch, and with his right hand, he stroked her lovely face, which felt soft and silky despite having slightly scaly skin. No matter how strong a heroine she was, she was a woman who needed attention from a strong man.

As he stroked her face, she made sounds like a cat purring, which was charming on her part and filled his heart with warmth. Removing her hands from his chest, Ryukyu rested her head on his strong chest, closing her eyes and listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. Wrapping her arms around his back, Ryukyu caressed him like a cat, feeling his heart beating much faster. Placing his hands on her waist, he stroked her, feeling how her scales twitched at his touch. In a gentle voice and with closed eyes, she spoke in an unusually soft tone, which was music to Tadao's ears.

"Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't met you at the beginning of my career, Hado." Tadao smiled, nuzzling his head into her golden hair while his hands caressed her attractive waist.

Tadao closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. Her warmth, softness, and the barely noticeable scent of lavender with a slight metallic undertone, characteristic of her dragon nature, made him feel remarkably calm. He was used to the noise, the pressure of work, and the responsibilities weighing on his shoulders, but now… now all of that felt distant and unnecessary. Just she and he, enjoying each other's company. Despite being divorced, it didn't hinder him from working, even though there was Nejire, whom he loved. But he shouldn't forget his happiness either, especially when Nejire had recommended he find someone so he wouldn't end up a single father for life.

"I think you would have still become a strong and kind heroine," he finally replied, tightening his embrace around her. She was smaller than him, and the height difference was felt even more.

"You've always been strong, even without me." Ryukyu smiled slightly but didn't open her eyes, as if afraid to break the moment of closeness with one of the honest people in her life.

"Maybe. But… it would have been harder for me. Harder to stay true to myself. The world of heroes is cruel, Hado. Especially for those who don't want to play by its rules." Placing her hands on his massive shoulders, she used her femininity to draw Tadao closer. Driven by her feelings, Ryukyu succumbed to the masculinity of the man before her, who looked much more attractive when he smiled at her.

"I must admit, despite your age, you look quite young, Ryu." Tadao smiled warmly, noticing how Ryukyu didn't take her eyes off him. Giggles escaped her lips as she playfully bit Tadao's cheek, causing him to flinch.

"In my heart, I'm still young, Hado, so my age is just a number in documents." She sighed, pressing closer; her claws slightly dug into the fabric of his shirt.

"Maybe you're right. But you know… sometimes I think that if it weren't for you, I might have broken. Or become just like them. Hunting for ratings, advertising contracts… Stopping being myself." She dramatically exhaled, placing her hands on Tadao's face, who smiled sincerely and believed her. Placing his hand over hers, Tadao rested his hand on his shoulder.

"I take pride in the fact that I positively influence the people around me, Ryu." Ryukyu snorted, but her voice sounded softer, warmer, caressing his ear. Her strong, almost deep voice that she showcased in public slightly trembled, revealing her charming feminine side and her vulnerability only to him.

"It's interesting who will save you when you feel sadness or sorrow." He didn't respond immediately. Her words made him think. He understood perfectly how fragile the line could be between staying true to one's principles and succumbing to the system. Every day he saw people give in to pressure, how even the strongest could yield to circumstances.

But he couldn't allow himself that.

He looked down at her, gazing into her vertical pupils, which seemed especially deep and alluring at that moment. A light blush colored her cheeks, giving her a cute appearance.

"Nejire and you," he answered firmly, feeling how her grip tightened around his back, drawing him closer to her like a magnet.

"I love my daughter, and her words about me needing to care about my own happiness involuntarily made me realize that throughout all these years working together, you've been pushing me forward, and that hasn't gone unnoticed." He replied, as her arms wrapped around his neck like an octopus, slowly bringing him closer to her lips. Hado offered slight resistance to her feminine charms, but as an experienced sorceress, she lured him in with her unique scent of lavender.

Moments like these were rare. In their lives full of responsibility, expectations, and pressure, it was seldom that they could allow themselves to simply be human. Without masks, without personas, without statuses. He had captured her heart, even though he had not been lucky in his first love, but that was not his fault. He strove for his family's happiness, giving his all to ensure their joy, which inevitably drew her sympathy. Sending shivers through her body, she pulled him closer, longing to unite with him in that singular moment she had wanted to create for the past three years, feeling warm emotions towards him.

The silence between them was only broken by the muted sound of the desk lamp and the rhythmic beating of their hearts.

"Thank you," Ryukyu quietly said, not opening her eyes.

"For what?"

"For just listening."

Tadao smiled but didn't respond. Sometimes words weren't necessary.

Tadao felt her breath, light and warm, mixed with the subtle scent of lavender. He looked into her golden eyes, and at that moment, the world around them narrowed, fading away, leaving only the two of them. His hands tightened around her waist, and her fingers clutched his shoulders a little tighter. She didn't ask, didn't insist, but he saw in her gaze a silent desire that had built up over the years.

Ryukyu was the first to bridge the final centimeters between them. Their lips met in a soft, almost hesitant kiss, but as Tadao responded, the caution turned into insistence. Her hands reached higher, gliding along his neck, and he pressed her closer, feeling her body respond to every movement. He could feel her heartbeat, racing just as quickly as his own.

Ryukyu slightly pulled away but didn't let him go, trailing her tongue along his lower lip as if savoring the taste of that moment. Tadao knew that this kiss was not just a moment of weakness. It was a confession. It was something that had been brewing between them for a long time, and only now had they allowed themselves to cross that line.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," she whispered, twirling one of his blue strands around her finger.

Tadao ran his hand along her back, feeling her scaly skin shiver under his touch. He smirked, gazing into her flushed face.

"I think I might."

Ryukyu chuckled, but instead of answering, she kissed him again, this time bolder, deeper, sweeter. There was no longer any restraint in her touches, only pure desire to finally take what had been out of reach for so long.

Locking her hands together, she had no intention of letting him go. This long-awaited moment released all the emotions she had built up towards him, and now he reciprocated her feelings, enhancing her desire to keep him close and interrupting such a captivating moment.

After finishing their intimate exchange, Hado pulled her closer, embracing her tightly.

"Tadao Hado, dragon tamer," she smiled, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, gently brushing against his lips.