While listening to Impulse's sort of cyberpunky timelapse music on his recent episode, I was struck by a very vivid series of images.
PixelPulse, of course, full of life. Impulse and Max (his established hacker character who ended the AI rebellion at the cost of his own life) and all the goings on.
And then outside of PixelPulse. In the gray and swampy marshland that surrounded it.
A crumbling pyramid. A relic of times gone by, tended to by a single man.
A man who, for some reason, has condor wings.
A man who watches from the top of his pyramid as all the lights in the city go out, and who shrugs and preens and continues on.
And when Impulse comes to him, pleading, trying to explain about the robots and max and everything else, Skizz- who is all that remains of whatever made the pyramid and its surrounding ruins, perhaps a single survivor of a civilization, perhaps the embodiment of that civilization's downfall, maybe only a scavenger left after what was mighty had come to dust- saying to this too bright, too harsh, too desperate man who glows like he is something out here in the marsh where the same light can be made by rotting vegetation, and saying, so very gently, with a beautiful kind smile, "Everything dies."
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Can you do a story where toshinori is out with his friends but sees a civilian needs help carrying foods and decides to help but accidentally ends up scaring the person (he came up behind the civilian) and the civilian ends up hitting toshinori with his/ her age quirk toshi is about 3 - 4 years old. So his firends the next day end up going to UA early (like around the time the teachers have there staff meetings) or around lunch break and give him to Gran Torino or any teacher that they could find at the time they end up explaining the situation saying that the civilian couldn’t control his quirk so toshi would be stuck like that for around 3 days which wasn’t bad - compared to the other times it accidentally happend Obviously nana ends up finding out from recovery girl his firends take him there first to make sure he’s not stuck like that and to make sure he will be ok and that there isn’t anything else wrong with him. Recovery girl calls Torino and nana and they end up explaining the situation again. Dad Torino and mom shimura moments🤩 / nanahiko sorry I’m getting used to writing like this also if you see the other one I made I thought that one disappeared so I made this one! In more detail so in a way im glad I started over 😅 if you see this THANK YOU for reading my long paragraph 😭💖
Anon, I’m gonna give you a ficlet, but I’m also prefacing it with a disclaimer: you have the fic. You’ve given me an outline from start to finish, which means that this could have been a reverse situation where I as a reader, starved of Mom Shimura and Dad Torino Co-Parent Their Summer Child fics, would get to go ‘YEAHHHH’.
I won’t go so far as asking prompters to follow a format, ‘cause that seems deeply limiting to the imagination, but… I was this 👌 close to not manifesting your fic. wc: 1.2k
//
Nana’s cellphone rang in the middle of the day, right as she was doing a grocery run. Only a few people had her number, and at least three of those people should be occupied at U.A. right now.
She checked the contact name and immediately accepted the call.
“Is this a personal or a business call?” she said, sandwiching the phone between her ear and shoulder. Her hand--the one not occupied with holding the red plastic basket--grabbed for several frozen microwaveable meals.
“It can’t be both?” Chiyo asked dryly. “It’s about your boy.”
Her hand nearly crushed a box. “Toshinori? What happened? Where’s Torino?”
“He’s here, just occupied.” A strange wailing sound came through from Recovery Girl’s side, and Nana cringed instinctively, out of sympathy for the--parent. Because that was the cry of a child, a child much younger than the teenagers that filled U.A.’s halls.
“Give me the phone!” barked Torino.
“Don’t shout, you’re just scaring him more!”
“What on earth,” Nana said, rapidly recalculating how urgent it was to restock her freezer. She replaced the meals and debated on leaving the basket to a store employee altogether. She hadn’t picked up that many items. “Chiyo-chan? Are you still there? I need a report!”
“Relax,” said Chiyo. “Yagi-kun had an incident with some civilian and their Quirk, and now he’s the size of a preschooler, with the memories and mindset of one too.”
“Torino has experience with preschoolers, though, so why is Toshinori crying? Wait. Actually, get me this answer first--why did Gran Torino just find out?”
For Toshinori’s third year, Nana asked Sorahiko if he could clean out the spare bedroom in his apartment and give it to her successor. His apartment was more spacious, and more importantly, wasn’t housing the memory of a small boy running around its walls.
She supposed that would no longer be true.
“When did Toshinori get hit? How long will it last? Why did Gran Torino just find out, Chiyo-chan?” Nana double-checked her basket and found it missing any frozen or refrigerated foods; she set it on a stack of soda cases, made an apologetic face at the nearest employee, and fled the premises to go rescue her partner.
“Torino just found out because the boy’s friends just hauled him to my office, and I called him. There was an early staff meeting, so they didn’t walk to school together. The Quirk is temporary. Depends on his emotional balance, so for the love of God, Torino, stop scowling!”
“I’m heading over,” said Nana. “You can give him the phone and save Toshinori, please.”
“No,” Chiyo responded sourly. “If he’s going to be living with the kid for the next few days, Torino had better learn how to deal with a five year old now.”
“Doesn’t he have classes to teach?”
There was a miffed silence, and then Chiyo heaved a sigh. “You’re only the voice of reason at the worst possible times, Seventh Wonder.”
“You should see my comedy routine with Gran Torino,” she joked.
“I know his sense of humor too well to be tricked into that. Torino, here’s the phone.”
“Shuuzenji, you--!” Sorahiko bit off a curse, probably to spare Toshinori’s ears. Maybe he remembered how Kotarou had a habit of picking up swear words. “Nana, are you there?”
Her eyebrows jumped at the slip in professionalism, and the desperate edge to Sorahiko’s tone, unhidden and panicky. “Go for Nana,” she said.
“Oh, good.” Sorahiko took a deep breath, then expelled it in a huge rush. “He’s tiny. He doesn’t know our names, and as far as I can tell, he doesn’t know about your, uh, gift.”
“I KNOW I’M QUIRKLESS,” a young voice bawled. “I’M SORRY!”
Nana winced as Sorahiko’s first response was to say, “Kid, it’s fine, I told you it doesn’t matter! Nobody is asking you to have one!”
“Torino,” said Nana chidingly. “I’m on my way, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Put your gear on, or he’ll clock you for a social worker.” This last instruction was muttered under his breath, like he was wary of Toshinori being triggered into another sobbing breakdown. She hummed in acknowledgment, said a quick goodbye, and hung up. Shimura Nana would have been stalled at every public transport point; Seventh Wonder had no such boundaries.
//
Sorahiko let Toshinori sob into his cape’s collar because there was really nothing else to do. His student had gone from a tall, bulky (if airheaded) tank of a teenager to a short, scrawny kid of indeterminate age. He looked younger than Kotarou.
“Everything’s fine,” he soothed, rubbing the space between Toshinori’s shoulder blades. His gloved hand was large enough to cover the whole area. The thick padding blocked Sorahiko’s hand from sensing how hard Toshinori trembled, but he didn’t need the feeling to confirm his very clear view of a crying kid.
“Where am I?” the kid hiccupped. “I thought--I thought Shinra-san liked me--”
He knew neither of Toshinori’s foster parents had the name ‘Shinra’, so clearly, Toshinori’s childhood had him bouncing between more than one home. Sorahiko held his tongue and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Chiyo, gratifyingly, was taking one for the team and talking to Principal Shi about the unexpected leave of absence.
It would only last for the day--substitute teachers, surprise, surprise, weren’t easy to come by for a high school pro-hero program.
“I was being good…”
“Yeah,” said Sorahiko, “I know. You’re a good kid.”
Footsteps. Rubber soles slapping down on linoleum, spaced out to the point where Sorahiko could recognize a subtle use of Float--the nurse’s office door flew open to admit one Seventh Wonder, beaming brightly, as if there was no problem in the world that she couldn’t fix.
The tightness in his spine eased with her appearance.
“Seventh Wonder,” he said.
“Gran Torino!” she answered cheerfully. “I hear we have a new sidekick!” Nana crossed the floor in one, two bounds, before coming to a stop beside Sorahiko. “Hello, Toshinori-shonen, has Gran Torino told you anything about me yet?”
Toshinori’s sniffles came to a bewildered stop. He pulled his face from Sorahiko’s collar (aw, gross, he needed to throw this cape into the wash) and stared at Nana, blinking wet blue eyes. “Who…?”
Nana hesitated, then just--went for it. “I’m Seventh Wonder, Gran Torino’s partner at Sky High Agency. You can call me Shimura-san, though. Pleased to meet you!”
“Pleased to meet you,” the kid echoed, fumbling with his words. “Wh-What’s going to happen to me? I don’t… I don’t have a Quirk, so I can’t be a hero.”
“Not yet,” she corrected. “You’re not big enough to be in the skies with us just yet, but as long you stick with us, Toshinori-shonen, you’ll be the best hero there ever was.”
Sorahiko pulled a face at her. What was the point of promising a temporarily-deaged Toshinori all that? There wasn’t a guarantee that Toshinori’s younger self had been pulled forward, and would retain all this. He rearranged his expression into something neutral when Toshinori whipped back around and chattered, “Torino-san, Torino-san, is that true? Am I really your sidekick?”
From behind Toshinori, Nana narrowed her eyes into a stern glare. Play along, she ordered.
“Yeah,” said Sorahiko. “We’re in charge of you for a long time, kid. You’re staying with us.”
“Oh,” Toshinori uttered, and started weeping again.
If anyone wanted reassurance that I’m still working on Reason, don’t worry
I still am.
I’ve just been a wee bit distracted by trying to get my ass into gear and steamrolling ahead with Fair Game Week 2021, and the fact that I’m Dealing With Substantial IRL And Stress in the background at the same time.
I’m honestly hoping to wrap this wild ride up in the next few weeks or so, but the posting for it will probably be stilted between said FGW and the return and subsequent finish of Volume 8, so fingers crossed!
If you hear violent wailing and sobbing, don’t worry, I’ve finished it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
