"Kazama."
The voice came from the living room. Takahashi Genzo, his mentor and legal guardian, sitting in his usual spot by the window with a newspaper folded in his lap. The old man's remaining sharp eye tracked Kazama's every movement and missed nothing. Not the careful way he held his left side. Not the slight limp. Not the fresh bandages visible beneath his collar.
Takahashi set down the newspaper slowly. He had been waiting. How long, Kazama couldn't say.
"Come here."
It wasn't a request. Kazama approached. The bandages Yuki had wrapped were tight, supportive but every movement still sent sharp reminders of what his body had endured. The distance across the living room felt long. But he had no choice since he was the one at fault here.
The old man's gaze swept over him like a scanner, noting the injuries and the way Kazama moved around.
"You look like hell. I can see bandages. A bit of limping," Takahashi said flatly. "What happened? Which hero did you fight now?"
"Got into a little fight with some bullies," Kazama replied, keeping his tone light, casual while trying to avoid the one eye of Takahashi. "Nothing serious."
Takahashi's single working eye narrowed. A long moment passed. Then he stood, moving towards Kazama with a body that had its own collection of old injuries.
"Some bullies huh," Takahashi repeated, his voice dry as sandpaper. "Walk me through this fight. I want to understand what really happened."
"Really, it's not a big deal…." Kazama said in a hasty tone.
"Some bullies?" Takahashi continued repeating louder than ever. He reached out and carefully lifted the collar of Kazama's shirt, examining the bandages beneath. His jaw tightened immediately. "Those are professional medical wrappings. Cracked ribs, maybe more. A deep cut on your arm that needed stitches or careful binding. Possibly more injuries you're hiding under that jacket. Your legs can barely support more weight."
He dropped the collar and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. The posture was almost casual but there was nothing casual about the intensity in his expression.
"You didn't get those from some street thugs or whatever excuse you are giving. This was the work of someone professional. Someone who had powers and very well knew how to use them," Takahashi said quietly.
Kazama said nothing. He had known this wouldn't work and had known it the moment he came through the door and saw Takahashi waiting but he'd had to try anyway. Sometimes trying and failing was better than not trying at all.
"I trained you," Takahashi continued, his voice low and controlled. "Hand-to-hand combat, ability control, strategy. You're better than just “some bullies” out there. You've sparred with me since you were eight years old. I know your limits. I know your strength. And I know what you look like when you've fought someone who pushed you." He paused, his expression hardening. "You fought Tanaka Kujou recently, didn't you? And Shirai Takeru called you out. Both of them are heroes. So I ask again. What did you get yourself into?"
The apartment seemed to shrink around Kazama. His mentor wasn't just observant. He was sharp. Dangerous in his own way because he connected dots most people would miss.
"I'm doing fine," Kazama said, meeting Takahashi's gaze. "Really. Just some complications but I handled them. They were good. They knew how to fight."
The moment the words left his mouth, he knew they were wrong. Too defensive. Too quick.
"Complications. Hmm…," Takahashi echoed. He studied Kazama for a long moment, his aged eye seeming to peer straight through to whatever secrets Kazama was holding.
Whatever he saw in Kazama's expression made him exhale slowly. The sound carried weight not just frustration, but something deeper. Concern. Maybe even fear.
"Final question then. Why were you out last night?" Takahashi asked finally.
The question hung in the air between them like a suspended blade. Kazama could feel the burden of it but a question about trust, about honesty, about what Kazama was hiding and why. It was the question of a guardian who had raised two children alone, who had given everything to try to keep them safe and who was starting to realize that safety had been an illusion all along.
Kazama didn't answer. The words were there, lined up in his throat but he couldn't force them out. Instead, he turned and headed toward his room, moving carefully to avoid any sudden motions that might trigger another cascade of pain.
"Raiden…." Takahashi started, but there was resignation in his voice now.
"I'm tired," Kazama said quietly, not turning back. "I need to rest."
He went up the stairs before Takahashi could respond. Though, he could hear his guardian's heavy sigh.
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The disappointment in that sound hurt more than his ribs.
************************************************************************************************************************
Kazama crossed to his bed and collapsed onto it carefully. The mattress dipped beneath him and for a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling of his room. He played back the conversation with Takahashi in his mind but couldn't find any way to explain what really happened.
He pulled out his phone. The screen lit up immediately and his stomach dropped.
Three missed calls from Hana.
Two from Takahashi.
And his group chat with Kurogane, Haruto, Takemi and Asahi was a minefield of worrisome messages that painted a picture of escalating concern:
Kurogane: "dude where are you??? Hana-nee called us if you were with us"
Haruto: "Call us back man. What the hell???"
Takemi: "Are you alright?"
Asahi: "Is everything okay?"
Kurogane: "seriously this isn't funny"
Haruto: "We're actually worried man"
Kurogane: "It's been hours. Send me your live location."
Takemi: "If something happened just tell us"
The messages had timestamps. They'd been sending them for hours, each one slightly more frantic than the last as his silence stretched on. Beneath the group chat, individual DMs had piled up. Akito asked if he was okay. Kurogane with increasingly frantic questions alternating between concern and anger. Haruto offered to help with anything he needed, no questions asked.
They cared. They were genuinely worried. And Kazama had left them all in the dark.
He set the phone down on his chest, feeling the weight of it like an anchor. For a long moment, he just lay there, processing the guilt. These people. His friends, the people who mattered to him. They had been sick with worry while he was getting bandaged up by a stranger and lying to his guardian about where he had been. He checked the news on his phone for any latest updates.
The boat incident. Gone. Not a whisper in the news, not a single follow-up. That's the real story. Complete, silent blackout. They didn't just cover it up, they buried it. The passengers weren't saved or rescued; they were silenced. Every one of them. Another secret the 'heroes' are keeping. The forces in power, whether it's the Hero Org or the Kurotsuki Mafia, control what the world sees and what it forgets. Just another ghost in the city, confirming the kind of world I’m fighting in.
Kazama forced himself to sit up, breathing through the pain. He pulled up a blank note on his phone and started writing, letting his thoughts pour out in a disorganized stream:
What I know:
- Kurotsuki mafia is very dangerous (I already knew that)
- They're involved in some form of illegal shipment (which is why that place was so heavily guarded)
- There's someone powerful coordinating operations
- Tanaka is not working for them but idk. That guy gives me the icks (he helped me but whatever)
- The government/hero commission is aware of them and they actually help them (that has to be the case. Why was there no help for so long? )
What I don't know:
- How deep this goes. What was in the shipment? Who all are involved? More heroes work for them?
- Who killed my parents (the mafia is involved but this is still a grey area)
- Any actual intel that would help
He stared at the list for a long moment, the reality of it sinking in.
All that pain, all that risk, all that sacrifice and what did I have to show for it? A handful of hostages were saved and a lot of new questions. I cannot tell anyone what really happened and I got these injuries on top of that. Great.
This was the reality: he was a vigilante with a mask and some decent abilities but he wasn't ready for this. Not yet. The mafia was too big, too organized, too dangerous.
Maybe Tanaka is right. Maybe I don't have what it takes to save people. Not yet. Did I do the right thing by letting Rico live? If I continue going after the Mafia, is that the path I would have to take to move forward? To protect my foster family?
And what about Yuki-san? She had to quit her job because of me. I feel really bad for her. In order to protect me, she is now sitting at home. She could have been out there nursing others back to health…..
Kazama sat up slowly, breathing through the pain, and made a decision.
I need to slow down. No more mafia. Not until I know more…. I need to become an official hero as soon as possible. In order to do that I need to get serious about the Japanese Qualifiers. Next up is the physical test. I need to lock in.
The written tests. I know I did better than I expected. But the slot is most probably going to Tachibana-san. The physical test won't be easy either. Not with these injuries.
A soft knock came at Kazama's door. He froze, unsure if he had imagined it.
"I made dinner," Takahashi's voice came through, quiet and measured. "It's getting cold."
Kazama didn't respond. After a moment, he heard his guardian's footsteps retreat.
He lay there in the growing darkness, watching shadows creep across the ceiling as the sun descended behind Tokyo's skyline.
Kazama pulled his phone back out and looked at the group chat.
He typed: "I'm okay. I just needed to rest. Sorry for worrying you guys. I'll explain everything soon."
It was vague enough to be useless and honest enough. His friends would accept it because they had to. Because the alternative was admitting that something was deeply wrong with their friend and none of them had the power to fix that.
Kazama closed the group chat and opened his messages with individual people instead. To Kurogane: "I am fine. Will explain tomorrow" . To Haruto: "Thanks for always having my back." To Akito: “You know where I was. I am fine now.”
When he was done, he laid the phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling again. Somewhere in the apartment, Takahashi was probably eating dinner alone. Hana wasn't home yet. But she was trustworthy.
Kazama would thank his guardian for waiting, for worrying, for trying so hard to reach a boy who insisted on keeping him at arm's length.
But tonight, he lay in the darkness with his secrets piled on top of him like stones.
Novicius in Arte Medica A Novice in the Art of MedicineMedical School is a Warzone. Ashrahan was failing. Then, the System woke up.
Quote: Synopsis: Sleepless nights, borrowed notes, and caffeine. When exhaustion drags Ashrahan to the edge, a silent system awakens, transforming patients into interactive lessons and textbooks into living networks of surgical precision.