MHA: Dark Matter

I stared at the dark smoke with purple hues swirling around my hand. The sight of this substance, the foundation of my power, mesmerized me. The knowledge that I had not fully grasped all the possibilities of this substance filled me with bitterness. In moments like these, I felt like a monkey holding a modern weapon, having learned to use it through trial and error.

Perhaps the scientists from Haijima and the League of Villains knew more about it. The information I managed to decrypt from those servers contained very detailed research on the genetic card catalogs of Quirk bearers, the influence of Quirks on space, physical phenomena, and energy.

Some reports raised and explored the question regarding the popular theory of the origin of this phenomenon. According to the theory, thanks to evolution and the accumulation of mutations, human genes allow them to use Quirks. The fact that the next generation can have a parent's Quirk or even a better one seemed to prove this theory.

But the people of Haijima asked a different question. Genes and Quirks. Which is the cause and which is the consequence? Do genes create a phenomenon called a Quirk, or does the presence of a Quirk alter the genes?

I was disgusted looking at the photos of the experiments they had conducted. Dozens of people had been killed during experiments to answer this question. Videos of autopsies performed on dead bodies, and sometimes not quite dead ones, evoked cold hatred.

The dry lines of laboratory journals saved on the servers could not convey everything that had happened in this laboratory complex in Hoshu City. But my experience and vivid imagination more than filled in the electronic text with images of test subjects and their deaths.

Rejection of transplanted organs. Pain shock from attempts to alter the genome. Madness and loss of sanity. Radiation sickness. Death from exhaustion due to the continuous activity of a radiation type Quirk.

I didn't understand much. Many of the experiments were completely incomprehensible to me. Sometimes it seemed to me that they were simply looking for an excuse to conduct sophisticated torture.

Looking at the photos, videos, and records, I felt something inside me changing. Something that had been inside me for a long time was falling into place or becoming distorted. I felt myself becoming more… corrupted and perverted.

Desire. Desire. Desire. Desire. Desire. Desire. I wanted to do certain things to these peo… creatures. Thoughts full of ideas swirled in my mind. Dark Matter seethed inside me, demanding action.

But not now. Not yet.

The middle management of Haijima had always known how to hide and cover their tracks. Some of the threads leading to the leadership pointed to the Tosaka conglomerate. But even if the main Tosaka family was connected to Haijima, I couldn't just storm in and interrogate them. Besides their considerable influence on the Public Safety Commission, which oversees the activities of professional heroes, they had very serious security with several hero agencies nearby that they partially sponsored.

Going there without a clear plan and specific goals would be too reckless and risky.

But if they really were part of Haijima…

A wide smile spread across my face. My crimson eyes stared unblinkingly at the raging streams of Dark Matter swirling around my hand with crackling lightning.

…then no amount of security or heroes would stop me.

---

Walking toward the house where Ayame and Hana lived, I thought about the results of my Dark Matter training.

Music played from my headphones. It was one of the songs by the band "Brian the Sun," which Kyotoku Jiro liked to listen to. He had mentioned this on his social media page and often played it at home.

Maybe stalking my idol and his family all day was a little excessive? I would think about that another time.

My gaze caught the bandages wrapped around my arms. Training had increased my control over Dark Matter. Without touching my skin, I could freely manipulate it within a thirty centimeter radius of my body, and also saturate objects with it, partially controlling them.

However, the amount of Dark Matter I could release from my body at once without harming myself had increased only slightly. So I thought about how to diversify my fighting style for greater versatility.

Eraserhead's and Best Jeanist's fighting styles had given me the idea of using bandages that were essentially tapes only slightly inferior in strength to Eraserhead's capture weapon. Inferior until I saturated them with Dark Matter.

Although my manipulation of them was orders of magnitude weaker than Best Jeanist's control over fabric fibers, they would allow me to add new techniques for close and medium range combat. They could also help capture prisoners for a better conversation.

So I was getting used to wearing them. I also tried to constantly keep them saturated with Dark Matter, which required much less energy than "Hardening."

I approached the door and pressed the doorbell. I now visited them mostly because I wanted to, not because the little blackmailer threatened to reveal my identity.

Hana, quiet and seemingly innocent, had a sharp tongue and knew when to use it for maximum effect. She had clearly picked up the skill from her aunt.

Hmm, no one was answering the door, although I could feel Ayame's radiance inside the house. But I couldn't sense Hana's. Maybe Ayame was asleep? But the door was unlocked.

I pressed the bell again.

No answer.

Hmm. I didn't like this.

I opened the door and walked toward where I sensed my friend's radiance. The silence in the house did not improve my mood.

I walked into the kitchen and froze.

She was sitting on a stool, leaning her elbows on the table. Quiet sobs came from behind her hands, which covered her face. Her work clothes, which she usually wore to the office, were disheveled.

"Ayame?"

At the sound of my voice, the girl flinched slightly and tried to wipe her face. A tear stained face with slightly reddened eyes stared at me.

"Oh, it's you, Ken. I forgot you were coming. Hana chan is visiting my friend, so you won't see her today."

I looked at a bottle of some alcoholic beverage, then shifted my gaze to Ayame, whose slurred voice had trailed off at the end of her sentence. I walked over and sat on the stool closest to her.

"What happened?"

I asked softly. Seeing the always composed and sarcastic Ayame so weak and broken was unpleasant. I had only seen her like this once before, during our first meeting.

"Nothing important."

The girl answered quietly, staring blankly at the table with a glazed look.

I sighed softly.

"Can I just sit here?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to."

Silence fell over the kitchen. I sat with my hands on my knees, staring at the kitchen ceiling. I didn't know what words could comfort her, despite the hours I had spent studying human relationships. All those psychology books and advice from knowledgeable people seemed completely out of place and meaningless at that moment. So I decided to simply be near her. Sometimes silence can be better than any words.

"I quit my job."

A hoarse voice came a few minutes later. I turned my head toward the girl, who still hadn't lifted her gaze from the table.

"Officially, I resigned voluntarily. My former department manager had been paying me a lot of attention for quite some time, and he didn't notice my polite refusals. I had to put up with his persistence. Hana and I needed the money. But today, I was distracted and ended up alone with Masuda. He decided it was his chance and started groping me…"

I didn't notice the cracking of the table under my fingers as she spoke.

"…the only thing he got was a kick to the groin. Then he threatened that if I didn't satisfy him properly, he could cause me serious problems. And looking at his wrinkled, fat face with those small, lustful eyes, I felt nothing but disgust. Hana and I need money, but I couldn't do something like that with him. I couldn't stay there any longer. So instead of looking for a new job, I'm sitting here in the kitchen, getting drunk and whining about my life to a high school student. Pretty pathetic, right?"

Only then did Ayame look at me with a crooked smile on her face.

I stood up silently and hugged her. Her arms wrapped around me.

"I'm just tired. Our parents died when we were kids because of a villain attack. My older brother always took care of me, and thanks to him, I was able to get a good education. His death and his wife's death were a shock to me. And I swore I would take care of his daughter, my only remaining relative…"

Her voice grew louder, and I felt wetness on my shirt.

"When Hana disappeared, I felt horror and despair. I wanted to end my life, but the hope of finding Hana was still there. Every day I called a police officer I knew, until he stopped answering. During those months, I couldn't sleep from worry, and I almost got fired. And imagine how I felt when I found out she had been found in a brothel. My sweet, cheerful Hana had been violated by some bastards. I broke my promise. And she wasn't found by heroes, not by the police, not by some conscientious citizen, but by a villain. Ticci Micc did more for me than the entire damn police force. What irony. And now I can't even provide for Hana properly. It's so hard for Quirkless people like me to find work. I'm just the worst guardian in the world."

My hand stroked the crying girl's back. She said nothing more.

An hour passed before she finally calmed down and fell asleep. Carefully lifting her in my arms, I carried Ayame to the bedroom and covered her with a blanket. No perverted thoughts crossed my mind, despite the closeness of a rather beautiful female body.

When I left the house, the sun was setting. The color of blood stained part of the sky.

"Masuda, was it?"

********A/N*******

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