Part 1

  “Damn it, hard to laugh when the joke is me.” Minato muttered quietly to himself, resting his head on the wooden desk.

  Just when he thought the morning couldn't get any worse, life rushed to dunk his head in the toilet once again. Realizing that he was late for class due to several conflicts between criminals and specialists that had occurred on the roads to school, for the first time in a long time he decided to take the train.

  Which, in turn, led to even more problems. At the very least, because people were pressed together tighter than sardines during rush hour, Minato accidentally grabbed a random woman by her fillet, for which, as is classic, he was slapped and pushed out of the train with no chance of rehabilitation. He fell on his backside and crushed the phone in his back pocket. This caused the screen to crack like a spider web.

  Not only that, but as he tried to run to school on foot, he was knocked down several times by cyclists rushing to class. The only thing missing was the police arresting him for sexual harassment.

  “If that happens, I won't even be surprised.” he said with a weary sigh, cursing a day that hadn't even begun.

  “Miyamoto, are you okay?” asked his middle-aged teacher, who was also his homeroom teacher. Maybe he was used to Minato's exhausted expression, but at the very least, he should have asked out of politeness.

  "It's bad, half the city ran here. Now I can't feel my legs."

  “It's just lactic acid buildup. Don't worry about it.” said the man, turning his attention back to the class, although he could still clearly feel the negative energy coming from the back row. He didn't need any special abilities to do that.

  “All right, everyone,” the teacher began, addressing the class. “I don't think I need to remind you that this is your third year. Your time in high school will be over before you know it. Therefore, it is in your best interest to think about your future.”

  Even though he was saying sensible things, his voice lacked sincerity. In fact, Minato could bet his hard-earned savings that even he could have expressed himself better if he weren't so lazy.

  “I've just finished reviewing your career guidance forms,” he said in a deliberately languid voice, pausing for too long for dramatic effect.

  “And, as expected, 90 percent of you want to go to schools for Specialists, right?!” the teacher declared with an unexpected burst of enthusiasm that shocked every student. So much so that the whole class erupted in loud cheers. It was as if they had all just automatically passed all their subjects.

  “Of course, each of you has amazing abilities! So I have no doubt about your success!” he continued his tirade, which could have lasted for hours if he hadn't been interrupted by one of the voices.

  “Sensei, just don't lump us all together!”

  A rough voice came from the back of the classroom, and all the students turned around.

  Long red hair the color of ripe strawberries, tied back in a ponytail with a few stray strands, and the haughty smile of a man who had never known defeat. Slouching in his chair, his mere presence instilled a sense of superiority in those around him.

  “It's rude, to say the least, to put me on the same level as these losers!” he declared arrogantly, savoring every word and reveling in his own greatness.

  And before a couple of dozen voices were ready to try to put him in his place, the teacher's voice echoed in the quiet classroom.

  “Ah, right. Sunahara, you're planning to apply to SHA, aren't you?” the teacher asked calmly, which plunged everyone into silent stupor, except for Minato, who was simply trying to tune out for a couple of minutes, but the endless shouting made him think that even under fire it would be easier to fall asleep.

  Although, to be honest, he could understand his classmates' surprise and shock. After all, SHA was a national private academy and was considered one of, if not the best, schools for developing superpowers. Of course, they also develop in regular middle schools and elementary schools. It's just that the quality is completely different.

  And if in some ordinary secondary school, commonly used methods are used to develop abilities, such as tuning brain waves to a certain frequency by connecting electrodes to the body or playing a certain rhythm, then at SHA and similar institutions, physiology, neurobiology, advanced pharmaceuticals, and practical training aimed at maximum efficiency and safety.

  But, of course, the admission requirements were incomparably higher than at other institutions. For example, to pass the exams, you had to score at least 80 out of 100, facing unbearable competition from thousands of applicants from all over the world. And even if you managed to pass the written exam, there was still a difficult practical exam ahead, where all the unsuitable candidates would be weeded out.

  It may sound harsh, but only the best of the best get into SHA, and to select them, you have to get rid of the trash. The simplest analogy would be brewing coffee, where you have to get rid of the worst beans to create a first-class drink.

  “Wait, wait! You're exaggerating! That's too much even for you!” a voice rang out, breaking the deathly silence.

  “No wonder something like this is beyond your comprehension, you nobodies!” cried the arrogant red-haired narcissist, reveling in his sense of superiority. "I have the highest marks in all subjects and the necessary abilities! I, Sunahara Kagero, will become the best, and in a few years I will surpass even the number one specialist, Absolute!

  The endless tirade, which was already making his ears rot, could have gone on forever if it hadn't been for an additional remark from the teacher, who was rummaging through the forms.

  “Oh, yes. I completely forgot. In addition to Sunahara, Miyamoto and Kazeharu are also going to apply to SHA. Now everything is certain,” he said, returning to his monotonous tone.

  Meanwhile, the whole class froze at the announcement. Including the narcissistic show-off Sunahara, whose eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at what he heard.

  “What?”

  Everyone in the class turned to look at the culprits. One was sleeping without a care in the world, trying to get rid of the piercing headache caused by lack of sleep, and the other, a less noticeable, thin guy with glasses and

  slightly tousled brown hair, who never stood out from the crowd. And unlike Minato, who didn't care that his plans had been announced like this, Kazehara clearly felt at least uncomfortable with the attention. At the very least, this was evident from the bright red blush caused by embarrassment and shame.

  “Wait...”

  “Come on, give me a break.”

  “Them? That nerd and that walking corpse?”

  The class fell silent, everyone struggling to hold back their laughter or sarcastic comments. And while you might expect such insolence from someone like Sunahara, who was, after all, an excellent student, an outstanding athlete, and also very talented! He had every right to be cocky! But this duo could only be called outcasts.

  “Pff, seriously? Have they completely lost their minds?”

  “Some people's egos grow by the hour, not by the day.”

  Giving a contemptuous glance at the two guys, who were nothing more than a thorn in his side, Sunahara calmly sat back down at his desk, muttering only a meaningful “I see.”

  Only after class was over did Sunahara approach Kazeharu's desk with his two hangers-on. Like two faceless henchmen of a villain following close behind him.

  “Hey, nerd. Just for a couple of minutes.” The arrogant narcissist commanded haughtily. It seemed as if the air itself was more charged, causing the bespectacled student to have trouble breathing. He wanted to refuse, but, as in mafia movies, this was an offer he couldn't refuse. So he humbly followed the trio of bullies.

  And, unsurprised by the consequences of his decision, Kazeharu was punched in the jaw as soon as they were out of sight of prying eyes. The blow caused a slight concussion, which made his legs buckle, but it was only by a miracle that he managed to stay on his feet.

  “And? What the hell do you think you are, you freak?” Kagero asked contemptuously, looking at his opponent as if he were a pile of trash.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Kazeharu, barely able to stand.

  “Don't play dumb! I'm talking about your idea of joining SHA, you idiot! Do you think you're someone special, you moron?!” Kagero shouted in a heart-rending cry full of disgust and anger.

  “What business is it of yours anyway? Does it matter if I try? After all, you'll never know until you try, right?” he said in a weak, trembling voice.

  "Aaaah, so you don't get it? Okay, let me explain it in a way that even someone like you can understand. Normal people develop their abilities between the ages of 3 and 6. You only developed yours at 14, and even then they were insignificant. In other words, for the 10 years I've known you, you've been a nobody with no abilities, whose only merit is cramming! Do you think God took pity on you and decided to show you the way to a better future? Do you think you're some kind of chosen one, huh?!"

  “N-no, that's not it! I just want to make my dream come true...” But before the trembling boy could say anything in his defense, he felt the ground disappear from under his feet, and something shaky began to envelop his face. The red-haired boy's hand turned into a pile of sand that covered half of his face, barely allowing him to breathe.

  "Ah, dreams. Yeah, right. People like you always have the same mantra about dreaming of becoming a hero, a messiah, or something else. Wake up! You're in the real world! Do you think everything here is achieved solely through your childish desires?! Hell no! You're just an arrogant asshole who thinks he's something more than he really is! You think you can go from being a shy nerd from a shitty municipal school to someone capable of moving mountains in a year?! Don't make me laugh!" Kagero shouted after the timid guy, whom he was slowly depriving of oxygen.

  “Hey, bro. Isn't that a bit much? You guys are like childhood friends or something.” One of the hangers-on tried to stand up for the weakling, but got a contemptuous look in return.

  “Shut up! That amoeba is not my friend! Better tell me where the other one is, the blonde transfer student?”

  “He's gone, bro. We searched the whole school, but he vanished into thin air. Didn't even leave a trace,” muttered the second henchman with an apologetic note in his voice.

  “I see. Okay, screw him, we'll find him. He was kicked out of some prestigious school and transferred to this dump, which means he's just a conceited weakling too.” he said without any interest, accelerating the process of suffocating Kazeharu, who was twitching and writhing like a snake, trying to get out of the grip, but his hands were only helplessly sinking into the sand, unable to grab anything.

  "Damn it! What the hell? What did I do to him?! I'm really going to suffocate." he thought hopelessly to himself. He didn't know what Kagero planned to do with him. Strangle him until he lost consciousness? Damage his brain to get rid of his rival for sure? At least he didn't see any pity in his eyes.

  “Damn it, I'm going to die...” Chaotic thoughts filled his mind. Maybe this is how a person feels when their whole life flashes before their eyes? He wasn't sure, but he definitely didn't want to die like this.

  “Anyone...”

  Suddenly, Kagero heard footsteps behind him, as monotonous as the voice of the person walking towards him.

  “Can you stop screaming for a second? My head is already splitting, and now you're adding to it with your disgusting screams.” Minato muttered, slowly approaching the scene and observing the unpleasant picture.

  “Ah, here comes the second freak. I have something to say to you too.”

  Kagero said, smiling like a child who had found a lost toy. Only, of course, more twisted and nasty.

  "You two are really two peas in a pod. You and this nerd. Both of you are incredibly arrogant. Do you think that because you once went to an elite school, it gives you the right to act like you're God's gift to the world?! Your arrogant attitude and disdainful attitude towards everything have been driving me crazy for a long time. Do you treat everything like a game? Or do you just not care?!" But Minato remained silent, only looking back with his dull eyes. And this silence in response only made Kagero even angrier.

  “Hey, I'm talking to you! Answer me, damn it...”

  But before the loud screams could pick up speed again, something wet hit his face. Was that spit? But before he could react, a fist flew into Sunahara's face, instantly knocking him out. In an instant, he felt pain as if he had been hit with all the force of a heavyweight boxer in his prime. The bully's body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, along with Kazehara's body, which was no longer held up by the sand.

  “Wet sand is much easier to grab,” Minato thought to himself before turning to Sunahara's two henchmen.

  “Hey, moron A and moron B. Take your buddy and get out of here before you get hurt.” Minato gave the order without emotion, but it was enough to strike fear into the hearts of the two henchmen, who nodded chaotically like guilty children.

  Grabbing Kagero by the collar, Minato easily threw his unconscious body into the arms of the two idiots before they hurriedly left him, leaving Kazehara and Miyamoto alone.

  “Looks like he's passed out...” Minato muttered and gave the guy a light slap, but, as expected, he was unconscious. “What should I do with you?” he wondered.

  But his deliberations did not torment him for long, as he decided to use a crude but effective method that had been used to wake him up as a child.

  After removing the unconscious Kazeharu's glasses, Minato grabbed his head and began to slap him hard, each slap turning the guy's cheeks redder than cherries. Perhaps it was too much, but it was effective. And soon, after about 20 or 30 blows, the four-eyed boy finally opened his eyes.

  “Oh, he's awake. Still a reliable method, like a Swiss watch,” Minato muttered, pulling the glasses back onto the face of his beating victim. He was no longer sure who had done more damage, him or Sunahara. But all's well that ends well.

  “MiMi-san?” whispered the shaggy guy quietly, rubbing his cheeks, which felt like they were burning with hellfire. His head was spinning, and his vision was blurry, as if a thick white veil had fallen over his eyes. But he could still make out the features of his savior's face.

  “What did you call me?” Minato tilted his head questioningly, like a kitten seeing something rustling for the first time.

  Standing up on his still shaky legs, Kazeharu dusted himself off and spat out the sand that remained on his tongue.

  “Well, you're Miyamoto Minato. Or MiMi-san for short,” he explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh, right. You transferred to our school a month ago, let me introduce myself. Kazeharu Tsunayoshi, also known as Insignificant Tsunayoshi, Nerd, or Useless Kazeharu! Take your pick!" he exclaimed, bowing respectfully.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Minato didn't know whether to cry or laugh at how casually this guy introduced himself with his humiliating labels. It was either nerves of steel or humility. There was no third option. But if he had a choice...

  “Too tedious. You'll just be Tsuna.” Minato said in his trademark neutral voice, which made it unclear whether he was taking the four-eyed guy seriously or not. “Well, see ya. Go see the nurse just in case, who knows what the consequences of this kind of asphyxia might be.”

  Minato, the man who had literally just saved him, began to walk away. With every second, his back was getting farther and farther away, and it seemed that in just a couple of blinks, he would disappear completely. Like a fleeting vision in a dream that you will never see again. But he still had so many questions.

  Why didn't he walk by like most people did? Why didn't he mock him? Did he not care what others would think of him for wanting to get into SHA? And out of the hundreds of questions swarming in his head, Tsun could only come up with one.

  “MiMi-san!” he shouted before he realized it. He expected the most common reaction, that he would simply be ignored, but to his surprise, he didn't leave, but only looked questioningly with his dull eyes, which burned a hole in him, causing him to almost forget to breathe.

  “Huh? What?”

  This was it, the moment of truth. He didn't laugh, even though he must have heard Sunahara's cries about his situation. He didn't look down on him or rub his face in reality at every opportunity like a guilty kitten.

  Opening his parched lips, he asked a question. “Can someone like me hope to become a Specialist?”

  He did it, he said it! Probably for the first time in his life, he was able to muster the courage to say what he was thinking. He probably knew the answer that would follow. But even with all his desire, he couldn't extinguish that dim flame of hope inside himself. And so, holding his breath, he looked into Minato's eyes and into the unknown that lurked there.

  On the other side of the unknown was Minato, who had to respond to the guy somehow. He was not a master of rhetoric or a motivational speaker, and in principle he hated such frank conversations, but Tsuna looked as if this question had been bothering him his whole life. It would be better if he answered honestly, without trying to sugarcoat the truth so as not to hurt his feelings.

  “Why do you ask?”

  "Well, how can I put it... it's been my dream since childhood. When I was very young, a Specialist saved me. At the moment when I was about to die and had resigned myself to my fate, she pulled me out of the darkness. She saved my life with a smile and gave me hope that I could become like her. A person who, without fear or doubt, could save others, instilling in them hope for a better future. That by helping others, by saving one, you can save hundreds," he said with sparkling eyes. Now he looked like a child recounting an episode from his favorite TV series, which had caused a storm of emotions in him.

  "I gained this ability not long ago, just a couple of months ago. Of course, I took it as a sign. I know it's arrogant, but I can't just forget about what I've wanted and desired with all my being my entire conscious life. I may be weak, but I want to do everything I can to achieve this. That's why... therefore...“ He hesitated, trying to find the courage within himself again. For by speaking so openly about his aspirations and dreams, a person unwittingly reveals a part of their soul, and to be rejected or ridiculed would be like being spat on or struck. ”That's why I want to know if I can..."

  “No.” Minato said, cutting Tsuna off mid-sentence.

  “Huh? No?”

  "Don't look at me like that, no means no. You don't seem to understand. The woman who saved you is not fearless or omnipotent. She is just like you. She has her fears like any other person, but for the sake of her duty, she forces herself to smile in the face of danger. Do you know why? Because she has something to fight for. Something worth risking her life for. Her support, her inner core, allows her to keep fighting, hiding her fear and pain behind a smile. She puts her life on the line and takes responsibility for her actions. What do you consider to be the criteria for becoming a specialist? Ability? Strength?

  “It's...”

  “They take responsibility for their actions. For the lives of those they were able to save, and those they couldn't. Can you live with your conscience, knowing that just by talking to me, you're wasting an opportunity to save someone whose life may depend solely on you?” Minato continued, ignoring Tsuna's despondency, which grew with every word he spoke.

  “I...” Tsuna tried to object in some way, but all possible words stuck in his throat.

  "You can't become a specialist just through willpower, desire, and ambition. You can't become like the woman you admire until you find your core, your reason to fight, which will be something greater than the desire to imitate."

  The last words sounded like advice, not the mockery that it seemed like. And Tsuna understood this perfectly well. Even if, by some miracle, he became who he wanted to be, he had no reason to fight except for this desire to be like the person who gave him a reason to dream. And that was the saddest thing. At that moment, he felt as if he had been living according to other people's beliefs, which he had interpreted in his own way.

  “It's not bad to dream, quite the contrary. If you live without any dreams, it's hard to call it life, more like mere existence. But still, sometimes it's worth facing the facts.” Minato added at the end, before leaving, leaving Tsuna alone with reality and the words that had been spoken.

  Part 2

  Light slaps felt like lashes from a whip. A friendly attempt to wake him up felt like a beating. That's exactly how the light slaps felt to Sunahara Kagero after Minato knocked him out with one well-aimed blow.

  “Huh?”

  Barely opening his eyes, Kagero stared up at his two henchmen, who loomed over him like two clouds. He couldn't tell how long he had been unconscious, but it felt like only half an hour had passed. He was lying on a bench in an empty playground.

  “Where am I?” he asked himself, accidentally saying it out loud.

  “Bro! You're awake! We thought you were done for!”

  “Are you trying to insult me? If so, you're succeeding,” Sunahara muttered, slowly getting to his feet. His face felt swollen, and the entire surface burned with a light flame, as if he had been stung by a swarm of bees. “Did that bastard knock me out?” he asked unnaturally calmly.

  “Yeah. Knocked you out is putting it mildly. We even had to fix your nose. Hope we didn't break it even more!” exclaimed one of the two idiots.

  Little by little, reality caught up with Sunahara, as did the realization that he had been knocked out with a single blow by a man he didn't even know. Despite his claims that he would become the best and surpass the Absolute, he had been sent to bed by a man who hadn't even used his ability.

  His disappointment in himself grew as quickly as his boiling rage. He had never known the taste of defeat, always standing at the top, and yet he had been so thoroughly beaten by some upstart.

  “Damn it! What the hell! How could I have lost to such a nobody?!” he asked himself, taking out all his anger on the nearest tree.

  “Bro, but you asked for it, didn't you? We're always with you, but I think you overdid it this time,” one of the duo remarked cautiously.

  “Shut up! It's not your decision! Even as a child, this halfwit did nothing but dream about everything! Just the memories make my hair stand on end!” Sunahara exclaimed loudly. He had never lost to anyone in his life. Even most adults were no match for him. He put anyone who got cocky and questioned his strength in their place.

  That's why he wouldn't rest until he put Miyamoto and Kazehara in their place.

  But the pain from his broken nose had other ideas and made itself known once again. “Damn them!”

  At that moment, hearing the groans of pain, a man appeared in front of Sunahara. He was quite tall, but Sunahara couldn't make out his face. It was as if it was covered with interference, like on an old, crackling TV, every time he tried to look at it.

  "Holy shit, what a face. Just look at yourself! Who did this to you?“ asked the man, barely holding back his laughter. ”Come on, smile. Let's save it for memory," he said, taking out his phone.

  “What?! Who the hell are you, you jerk?! Get the hell out of here!!!” Sunahara shouted in rage. Some kind of provocative imbecile was only getting on his nerves even more. He had almost swept him away with sand when he disappeared from view like a mirage in the desert.

  Before Sunahara could even react, the same man grabbed him from behind by the neck, squeezing tightly and pressing on his artery.

  "Now, now. Why are you doing this? I'm being gentle here. You hate losing, do you?“ came a mocking laugh. ”I have just what you need," he whispered ominously. And in the next moment, something cold and sharp pierced Sunahara's skin, sinking into a vein in his neck.

  The purple liquid from the syringe quickly spread through his veins, and with it came a burning pain, as if the blood in his veins was slowly boiling. And along with the unbearable pain, his consciousness smoldered.

  “Don't worry, you won't lose with this. Not to anyone.” Those were the last words he heard before his consciousness finally clouded over.

  ...

  “It's okay to dream, but you have to face reality, right?” Tsuna muttered as he walked down a quiet street. Even though almost an hour had passed, the words still lingered in his mind. It seemed that only now did he begin to understand their meaning.

  He understood perfectly well that Minato wasn't trying to deliberately insult or humiliate him. It was just honesty. That's the kind of person he was, and even if he spoke harshly, he spoke truthfully. Perhaps that was what he was missing. Someone who would respond to him without any prejudice.

  His family would support him simply because he was part of the family. And his classmates would laugh at him just because he was worthless. But Minato didn't know him, so his opinion was unbiased. The truth hurt him more than he would have liked, but that's life. And it never tires of rubbing his face in cruel reality.

  “Heh, if I feel so bad about what a stranger said, I can't imagine how I would react if Absolute said it to me, or she...” he muttered quietly, remembering the day when an obsessive idea, which grew into a mania, filled his mind. What would that woman say? Would she laugh at him? Would she support him?

  "Why guess? If not, then not. After all, he's right. I doubt I could save anyone with nothing to my name. For I am nothing more than an empty shell, with desire instead of common sense. And even if human dreams never die, people can easily die for nothing because of their dreams.“ he said with a heavy sigh, wanting to slap himself for his idiotic train of thought. ”I'm feeling philosophical. I need to distract myself. As the sensei said, it's time to think about the future."

  But even though he tried to convince himself otherwise, a small part of him did not want to accept this reality and even threatened to cry. It was because he knew his dream was impossible that he was so determined to prove to everyone, and especially to himself, that anything was possible with enough desire.

  Also, because Tsuna was so deep in thought, he didn't notice when he bumped into someone's back. That was enough to snap him out of his self-flagellation. But seriously, he was slightly confused. A whole crowd had gathered in front of him, and somewhere ahead he could hear a noise that was worse than the scraping of a fork on a plate. But in this cacophony of sounds, amid the crowd's chatter, the shouts of the Specialists, and the incomprehensible loud screams, he could only make out that something serious was happening here.

  “What the hell is going on here? You don't even see crowds like this at interviews with the most popular Specialists,” Tsun thought to himself. And even though the voice in his head, his inner self, told him not to look, not even to think about approaching, his curiosity got the better of him, and he began to squeeze his way through the crowd. Fortunately, his thinness helped him do this. The closer he got, the louder the chaos behind the people's backs became.

  “I wonder if this is how people feel when they try to find treasure behind a waterfall?” he thought to himself, trying to calm himself down somehow.

  When he finally reached the front row, a sea of flames opened up before his eyes, like something out of a movie about the end of the world.

  Even though the fire was not close by, the heat was strong enough to be unbearable. Even keeping his eyes open was unbearable, because they immediately dried up. Even though the fire was not close by, the heat was strong enough to be unbearable. It was even unbearable to keep his eyes open because they immediately dried out.

  And with every breath, his throat burned as if he were trying to swallow hot coals.

  “Damn it! Looks like the gas pipeline exploded!” shouted one of the specialists standing nearby. He was dressed in a yellow, canvas-like suit and had hoses instead of arms. His appearance reminded Tsune of a little boy from a horror movie he had recently seen.

  “Equalizer, do you think you can get closer to him?!” asked a crowd of small but identical-looking men in black suits. Apparently, this mini-crowd was busy pushing away onlookers who wanted to take pictures of what was happening up close.

  “No way, Dopio! You can't just grab him, he slips through your fingers and sucks you in! It's like walking into a minefield!” shouted the Equalizer, a novice Specialist who had already made a name for himself.

  Thanks to his fearless heroism, he was popular among the guys, and thanks to his appearance and incredibly developed muscles, he became popular with women of all ages and, according to rumors, even with some men. He was carrying two guys in school uniforms on his shoulders, whose appearance was extremely familiar to Tsuna.

  “Wait a minute...” he muttered to himself. He wouldn't confuse these two with anyone else, the two guys who follow Sunahara everywhere. But where was Sunahara himself? Unless...

  The voice in his head began to scream louder and louder. He just wanted to turn away, walk away, and forget everything. But for some unknown reason, he couldn't. He was afraid, but not for himself, but for the person who might be in trouble. He remembered how desperate he had once been and how happy he had been to be saved.

  Minato's words still rang in his ears, echoing in his head. If he rushed over there, he would simply die, and maybe take someone else with him. Just grit your teeth and endure. Someone would surely come and save everyone.

  But the stream of thoughts stopped when he saw the source of the destruction. An amorphous pile of sand filled with debris from houses, poles, and traffic lights. It writhed unnaturally, and with each movement, the cry grew louder. And it came from a person whose voice was very familiar to him. A voice he had heard almost his entire life.

  In the middle of the living pile of sand was Sunahara, his face contorted with pain and his eyes filled with tears. For the first time in his life, he saw him so vulnerable, curled up in pain and longing for salvation. Eyes that looked at everyone with contempt silently begged for help. Perhaps Tsuna would have subconsciously laughed, saying that this was what he deserved. But he couldn't.

  And before he could even realize what he was doing, he broke through the fence, pushed aside all the mini Doppios in his path, and sprinted towards the pile of sand.

  “IDIOT! STOP! DON'T GO IN THERE!” several Specialists shouted after him, but Tsuna had the advantage of surprise, and so no one would be able to bring him back. And one of the reasons was his thinness, which allowed him to run faster. Either way, he was already closer to Sunahara than to them. Only a couple of dozen meters separated them.

  “DAMN IT! DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT! What the hell am I doing?! Why am I so desperate to get there?!” he shouted at himself. Right now, Tsuna wanted to hit himself hard for what he was doing. But above all, he wanted to help. Despite his endless self-convictions, despite the repeatedly proven uselessness and worthlessness that had become entrenched in his countless nicknames, he still wanted to help.

  Turning around at the scream, Sunahara, who seemed to have completely lost control of himself, let out a heart-wrenching cry. A huge hand made of sand sucked in one of the pillars and aimed at the running Tsuna. “You idiot! Get out of here, you good-for-nothing! I can't control myself!” Sunahara yelled, throwing the pillar at Tsun like an Olympic javelin champion.

  And even though it was aimed directly at Tsuna, it was nothing compared to when Sunahara threw stones at him as a child. It was impossible to dodge.

  Tsuna fell to his knees, and the pillar whizzed right over his head, grazing the tips of his hair.

  Without wasting any time, Tsuna jumped up from his knees like a frog, continuing his run and catching up with his target. His hands instantly plunged into the quicksand, trying to pull out the man who had been preventing him from living a normal life.

  “Why?! What the hell are you doing here?! Get out of here!!!” Sunahara shouted, but this time there was no arrogance, haughtiness, or contempt in his cry. Now it sounded like a plea. But Tsuna had no intention of listening.

  "I don't know! My body reacted faster than my mind!" Sunahara cried, desperately trying to rake away the sand that was sucking his hands deeper and deeper with every passing moment. He tried to create some kind of wind, to use his ability to do anything to keep from dying here and now. “You're arrogant, cruel, narcissistic, and you never let me live a normal life! I can't stand you! And yet... and yet... I can't just abandon you like this!”

  Without warning, a huge sandy hand loomed over Tsuna, as did dozens of iron fragments in it. After all, they didn't care about sentiment, revelations, or their desires. Now, they would crush Tsuna, and his attempt to save anyone would go down the drain.

  “Damn, maybe Mimi-san and Kagero were right. Without convictions, without the strength to back them up, I can't save anyone,” Tsuna thought to himself, and even closed his eyes, as if believing that it would make death less painful.

  But nothing happened, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that his hand was frozen, trembling slightly. Was it Sunahara? No, unlikely, he couldn't control himself. But then who?

  “Tsk, what bad luck. It seems that my day really hasn't gone well. Although, it’s not like it used to be different.” A monotonous voice came from behind, in which, surprisingly, notes of irritation could be heard. And Tsuna knew the owner: wheat-colored hair, dull emerald eyes, bags under the eyes, and a doll-like face.

  “M-M-M-MIMI-SAN!!” Tsuna cried out, and tears of joy suddenly streamed from his eyes like two waterfalls. He didn't understand why he was so happy to see him, because the situation wouldn't really change because of one person. No matter how strong he was physically, brute force alone wouldn't help here.

  Suddenly, something hit Tsuna in the stomach, but it wasn't a sandy hand, it was a piece of a traffic light that hit him in the stomach with its edge and threw him back to Minato, who was standing closer to the entrance. To his surprise, he didn't feel any pain, just a little pressure, as if someone was controlling this iron bar.

  A second later, the discomfort was replaced by a feeling of being held by the collar of his uniform, like a cat by the scruff of its neck.

  "Don't yell like that, it's already nauseating. You did well, I'll take care of the rest.“ Minato grumbled, throwing Tsuna to the side, and at that moment, black sparks flared in his hand, dancing in the air along with the flames.

  “You're even more of an idiot than I thought. The power of your ability may have increased, but your control has gotten worse. You have sand with a bunch of debris, including impurities such as iron sand. I suppose I don't need to explain that iron has magnetic properties?" Minato said with a barely perceptible note of mockery in his monotonous voice.

  His blonde hair emitted several sparks, like electrodes. His bangs emitted several soot-dark sparks, and several spear-like lines of electrical discharges flew in Sunahara's direction. But not to roast him like meat on a spit, but for demonstration purposes.

  Controlling even the smallest particles of metal in his sandy body, he could simply paralyze him. And the great sand giant froze in place, like a puppet suspended by strings.

  At the same time, using magnetism, Minato pulled a beam out of the sand golem that was buried deep inside, yet close to Sunahara.

  “I'll try to make it painless,” Minato said sarcastically before running up and kicking the vertically directed beam with all his might like a soccer ball, and with a few sparks, lightning pierced the sand golem's body.

  Although no, it was more like a laser, a silent black spear whose afterimage stretched from Minato's foot to the sky. It cut Sunahara's sand body in half, allowing it to be pulled out almost without any trouble.

  But with a slight delay, there was a deafening roar, like a clap of thunder. The shockwave tore through the air, scattering the sand even more and allowing the culprit to be pulled out into the light of day.

  As soon as the black beam pierced the golem, the nearby buildings, which were already largely destroyed, scattered as if they had been hit by a construction crane. The residual trail stretched into the sky for about seventy meters, burning through the air more intensely than the once raging flames, and extinguished by the shockwave like candles on a child's birthday cake.

  The spear struck far enough away from Sunahara that it didn't burn him to ashes, but he still couldn't control himself, which Minato could tell from the death grip on his arm.

  "Well, that was predictable. Sorry, you'll have to go to the side again.“ Minato grumbled in discomfort at Sunahara's unnaturally strong grip. And for the second time, Minato slammed the redhead with all his might, driving his head into the concrete and sending him to the realm of Morpheus. ”Better safe than sorry."

  Minato finally breathed a sigh of relief, as did Tsuna, who had been silently watching everything from the sidelines. And, to describe his emotions briefly, he was delighted. With just a couple of moves, Minato was able to solve a problem that even several Specialists couldn't handle. If that wasn't a sign of strength, then he didn't know what it was.