Reach for the Stars!

tokoyami is literally the best boy !!!!!!!!

“I guess that makes sense.” 

It was nice that a lot of the neighboring businesses treated them when they were on patrol. That helped save money but he’d also seen Fat Gum eat and he too, ate his fair share of food  It worked better for his quirk and he could pack away a lot. 

Once he met up with Fat again, he held up his arms full of snacks. 

“Yeah I got some. They have Ume flavored chips here and they’re on sale.”

“Looks pretty good, Tamaki!”

Taishiro nods towards Tamaki and holds the selected items he picked up close to his chest, ready to head towards the register. 

         “Alright then! Follow me! Anything else you see on sale, you can grab them!” Regardless of snacks or just plain ingredients, Fat Gum would certainly use them in some sort of dish when necessary. It also gives him a bit of leeway into new recipes... should he try to look from the vast amount of websites and books he has on the mind or at hand. 

Placing everything on the conveyor belt, he looks back to his hero sidekick. 

               Fingers drum rhythmically against his own palm. A small, involuntary movement; hooded eyelids, glazed in quietus, never once part from the man. And slowly, quite slowly, arrives a hum of thought; rolling deep from his throat, head tilting; curiosity among him, eyebrows furrowing. 

“I think you’re perceiving these things in absolutes. That’s the issue with you all… everything’s black and white for you guys. Like children.” His words come out slowly, shrouded in apathy; if one was to attempt to distinguish how he’s currently feeling, it would be nearly impossible - even to his closest comrades. This, of course, was a strategic move, whether intentional or ( more probable ) his ever-residing lack of empathy which has been overpowering his psyche since he could remember.

                                                            But he could tell.                                                   A curiosity is resting within him.                                                        He wants to be guided.

The young capo lets a slow sigh escape his nostrils. “Well, I’d like to think that you’re a bit smarter than attempting that,” he responds evenly; “after all, I don’t think I need to explain to you that I have plenty of people around the country who would be quite upset if you tried that. Besides, you’re not like your little colleagues… You’ve got a type of professionalism to you.”

                   “Besides, you’re still standing here, listening, mm?                                 You seem to be intrigued; why don’t you put some thought in it?”

“By no means could the world be so simple as to be black and white.” 

        Another notable point had been made. If only the world had been made up of absolutes and ONLY two sides to every option. Good or Bad. Right or Wrong. Hero or Villain. It would certainly make things less convoluted. However, humans were much more complicated than that. Thus, by default, society fails to be anything but. 

“Again. You are rather on point. I can manage to care for myself if I had legitimately considered such a thing to do to you. So don’t fret to much on the meaningless threat.” 

        Another fluttering laugh. Enough to visibly convey the upbeat nature of it. Shoulders bouncing, and a small head tilt back.

        CYAN HUES contemplate the other’s demeanor. Seemingly CARELESS, yet well calculated. Allowing this moment to be an opportunity than a threat. Flattery would often get the other nowhere... but his entertainer nature had other ideals. Professionalism, a thing the League indeed lacked. There was hardly stability that existed once Kamino had been nearly demolished. Now left to simply watch their backs and rendezvous to the nearest abandoned storage unit. 

“Quite the silver tongue you have. I would be interested in joining, but I do ask for a little incentive than simply interest alone.”

        After all, he did not initially join the League out of CURIOSITY. Payments were made. Afterwards though, he remained curious of the group. His faith has faltered since, and now, a new option is now piquing his interest. 

“I must ask though, judging by your underlings, I don’t have to fit your theme do I?”

      Rei gasped softly as she stepped back some. She had heard a commotion. She was sure she had seen more people here just a moment ago. What had just-….right. The snowy haired maiden stiffened slightly. This part of town was known for it’s villains and more importantly she had a feeling she knew just who she ran into now….but still, she had come so far. If she backed down now out of fear, she’d be right  back where she had started. 

“I’‘m afraid I must decline. I have to stay. I must know.” Quiet grey eyes held sturdy even though all she really wanted to do was leave before he did something dangerous. He knew where they were. Where he was…

“I-I must ask that…that you take me to the League of Villains.” 

HEAD TILTS in curiosity. My, an unexpected revelation.

           It was not often that strangers would stay and remain civilized. Skepticism creeps in the back of his mind. As they were open to accepting new members, they wouldn’t be so BRAZEN to let any individual who desired to join blindly be let in. 

“Like any big show, my dear, you have to audition.”

          The sudden glow of light reveals his quirk activating, decompressing a cane to walk to the other with. More for show rather than it’s intended use. Tap. Tap. The cane clicks to the ground with each step growing closer to the woman. 

“Ugh! So close!”

For as docile as she was, Jitsuko was rather competitive. Not a fan of losing. However, rules were rules. She rose from her place and started towards the kitchen, playfully running her tail across his side as she passed him. “I’ll beat you next time for sure. Just wait.”

“So, how about soba and tempura tonight?”

“Like the last several times that you won?”

A tingling sensation washes over Taishiro at the innocent brush at his side. A soft laugh bubbles up, taking the time for her to walk away to pick up the remaining cards on the table. Sliding them neatly into the box for it, he sets them back down. A rematch would be sure to happen soon. He stands up to join her in the kitchen for a moment, just to provide a little kiss to the temple of her head. 

          Anxiety bit at every inch of his skin, looking onward with a worried expression – one he often held when his friends weren’t feeling their best.  But with that worry, hung the heavy presence of guilt.  It was his fault that Compress’ arm had been destroyed, his fault that Big Sis had-               He feels sick, stomach churning and flipping like a wild fish.  He wants to be sick, everything was so hard to process.  Hard to believe it was all a reality he had to learn to accept (one he could never accept).  And with his harsh tone to start, he withdraws into himself.  Hands hovering a short distance out from his body wanting to help.  To do anything to make up for what happened…

                        It hurts.  He was hurting, and yet all he could was sit idly by USELESSLY.  Why?  Why couldn’t he just do things right?

                        Things never turned out the way he wanted them. 

                                  “— Do you need anything? I can help – !”

                                     “No you can’t! You’ve done enough damage!”

       he cowers back slightly.  “– N-no… ! I want to help… ! This is…” he pauses, expression knitted tightly and contorted under his mask.

                                   “This is my fault.”

“Twice.”

        It was always intriguing that despite the mask the other wore, his expressions BLEED right through. Anguish leaks from the other’s body language and the way he spoke to him. Atsuhiro knows why he feels this way. Had he not invited him in, had checked for followers, done a better background check on this individual-

“There will always be the what ifs, should haves, and could haves. I don’t believe any of us could have foreseen the events that transpired that evening.”

        His voice is gentle, reasoning to the other. Atsuhiro could admit his anger and frustration, but it was not towards him. He had not shot him in the shoulder. HE did not cause the death of Magne, nor the sudden destruction of his arm. 

        A tragedy had occurred. Caused by the man who thought to take over the League. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he sighs, returning to a less agitated state. After all, the injury was recent, with the psychological toll still chipping away at him. “If you would like to help-”

        Mr. Compress pulls out of his pocket and places two marbles on a flat surface. With a snap, it was soon revealed to be a bottle of water and a small bottle of painkillers.