#thenihilistofthevoid

“Right. You’ve dragged us halfway across the world for a chat, so what do you lot actually want? You don’t normally ring people up for tea and a gossip about your nan, so summat’s up, and whatever it is, you need me for it.”

He flicked at the lighter, swore when it wouldn’t catch, then got a spark at last and took a drag.

“So what’s that bad you’ve had to drag me over from Cottonopolis for it, then? What can’t you lot sort yourselves?”

He checked his phone again. Still nothing from Tim, which was odd. They weren’t joined at the hip over messages, but Tim usually got back to him. Saburo set the phone down and gave the lot of them another look.

Young Justice.

Because giving teenagers superhero responsibilities was obviously a cracking idea, thought up by the same spandex-wearing pricks who made the first lot. They’d built themselves a little club for their kids, their sidekicks, and whoever else kept hanging round the edges.

Jason slowly followed the others in. Cassie, Connor, Bart, Greta, Cissi, and Slobo. He looked up quietly as the others all stood around, giving him the cold shoulder. The redhead hung his head as he knew this was just going to be another time he was expected to stay quiet and just let the older heroes talk.

Cassie spoke first, a sad smile at Saburo. “Hey Saburo. Sorry it’s been so long, the team has kind of been in turmoil in recent months. A lot has happened with us. As I am sure it has with you.” She began.

Connor adjusted his sun glasses. “She means we got the short end of the stick. Tim bit the dust and now we are baby sitters to this brat wonder when Batman has had enough of dealing with his incompetence.”

“Yeah. He is so slow at learning this detective thing. And Bruce barely waited before giving some new kid Tim’s role.” Bart hissed.

Slobo just nodded, his head in agreement. Still not really having much to say about this. Just knowing his friends didn’t like this kid was enough for him.

“We want you to try and bring Tim back from the dead.” Greta spoke. Her eyes not on Jason who still remained silent the entire time. “He is Robin, not this imposter. He is our friend, not this invader. He is our fearless leader, this is some kid playing dress up.”

The birds did not come near him. One landed on the fence, looked at him, then hopped away with urgent little steps. Saburo glanced from the bird to the boy buried under the rest of the flock.

“You are either very unpopular,” he said, “or very interesting.”

Before Saburo could decide whether that was idiocy or stamina, the captains appeared and the exam began. William Vangeance introduced himself as head examiner. Saburo’s fingers tightened once against the spine of his grimoire when he heard the name. He released it before anyone nearby could look.

The broom test went badly on purpose.

Saburo let his broom rise, wobble, and drift at an unimpressive height. A few examinees laughed. He allowed that too. During the blast test, he produced a thin branch that tapped the wall and left a shallow crack. During the moving target test, he missed by enough to look careless. During the creation test, he made a plain wooden needle and set it down without explanation.

Then came the seed, the examiner placed it in his palm. Saburo stared at it for a moment longer than he had stared at anything else that day.

His grimoire opened by itself.

The seed split. A white root curled around his wrist. A second root touched the ground. In the space of a breath, the shoot became a sapling, the sapling became a tree, and the branches reached high enough that several nearby examinees stepped back. Leaves opened across it in a bright green rush. The trunk was too pale, almost silver, and its roots had gone through the stone floor like it was soft earth.

William Vangeance looked directly at him.

Saburo closed the grimoire, the tree stopped growing.

A silence sat around his station until one of the examiners cleared his throat and called the next name. Saburo looked over at the grey-haired boy again. The anti-birds were still bothering him. The boy had failed the broom test completely and kept shouting anyway. Such stubborn tenacity was admirable, in a way

The final test was combat.

People began choosing partners. Nobles moved toward peasants with practised smiles. Saburo saw the pattern at once and disliked it before he had a reason to. The boy with no magic was being approached by a man who looked pleased with himself.

The arena fell into a tense silence as Asta stepped forward. He didn't think Sekke was a bad guy until they paired up. Sekke whispers to Asta that he doesn't belong here and should disappear since he has no magic.

Across from him, Sekke Bronzazza rolled his shoulders and flashed a smug grin, already drinking in the attention from the Magic Knights watching above. His bronze blonde hair caught the light as he lifted one hand, mana gathering around him in a heavy metallic glow.

“Heh,” Sekke said, his grin widening. “Bad luck, peasant! You should have prayed harder before getting matched with me! I'm going to make you regret coming here!"

Asta planted his feet and gripped the hilt of the massive black sword strapped across his back. “I don’t need luck,” Asta said. “I’m going to become the Wizard King.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd and contestants.

Sekke laughed louder than anyone. “The Wizard King?!” he repeated. “You?! The brat with no magic?! That joke was funny the first time, but now it’s just sad.”

Asta’s expression did not change. He had heard those words too many times for them to matter anymore. The sneers, the disbelief, the easy dismissal from people born with power. None of it reached the place in him that had been hardened by years of training.

He drew his sword from his grimoire's pages as black energy seeps out. The blade was massive, dark, and rough-edged, swallowing the light around it instead of reflecting it. Several of the captains narrowed their eyes as they looked at it. When Sekke asked what he was going to do with a sword, Asta lowered the blade until the tip nearly touched the ground. “No,” he said. “I’m going to hit you with it.”

“Fine. Let me show you the difference between us. Bronze Creation Magic: Sekke Magnum Cannonball!”

Bronze armor formed around him in an instant, swelling into a thick, round, spiked shell that enclosed his body like a mobile fortress. The metal gleamed with reinforced mana, heavy and polished, built to protect him while he charged.

Asta immediately charges in with his sword raised, his speed astonishing those around thinking he is using magic. Some of the captains, however, realize that he trained his muscles to exceed normal standards of physical prowess which is why it seems like magic enhancements are at work.

Wally gasped as he and Dick managed to finish and get all dressed, both very very embarrassed.

[ @thenihilistofthevoid Smoker wants to be a brat]

Garp sighed as he caught his middle grandson by the scruff of his neck from behind, he carefully led Saburo away from the corridors, his eyes darting everywhere to make sure Akainu was no where near them.

"You're partner is an idiot sometimes" Garp informed Sab with a sigh as he handed him an opened letter, it didn't have a name on it, but it did have a careful cigar burn which was why Garp had opened it when he couldn't find his youngest son in his office "You two have the week off, Senny thinks it's an emergency vacation... let him know his ass his mine when you come back" The eldest Monkey requested leaving the letter as well as coordinates with Saburo.