Henry:

  "I'm not wild about it, but I won't forbid using it for now..." says Yuka when I tell her about the new learning style I'm trying to employ. She wipes the remains of some eggs off my cheeks as she smiles at me. "Playing the odds will get you to graduation if you do it right, sure, and it's better to have a plan than to just throw yourself at things without thinking. But please don't rule out excelling, okay? You're too special to accept just "getting by."

  Time has finally been passing like normal for me. It's been two weeks. I've finally been getting into a routine, and honestly, I'm not too upset with it —I'm just afraid it won't last.

  Sometimes, I must pause and go through it all in my head. Why? I get why I was allowed to be here. My sister is worth a fortune, and the briefings I give on weekends on the inner workings of gangs will probably save lives and effort. But if that's all people want from Tori and me- then pressure Tori and let me drift to the point where the best I can do as an adult is work the fry counter- keep me out of trouble, get them their money, and help maintain their system- that would cover all the bases with minimal effort. Making it so Tori and I even CAN fail is counterproductive if they want the profits from having us, and if this is about maintaining fairness even while trying to get those profits, then why give me and Tori special treatment at all?

  It's almost like... like the people around me have their own goals. Hotaru says they care about us, and I try not to tell her that it can't be that simple. Letting us fail- under any circumstances- means that care only goes so far. I can believe that Yuka and Hizashi aren't compromising in their care for me and Tori after I can't figure out what they're getting beyond that. Maybe Hizashi got some kind of finder's fee that I'm unaware of. But even a finder's fee for good students wouldn't explain ongoing commitment.

  But UA will let us go if we mess up. That means that, as an institution, I doubt UA could care less.

  It all adds up to only one teacher I trust, Vlad. He's harsh- I mean SUPER harsh- but the crap he puts up with from me... I constantly question him, I don't have the best grades, I'm STILL working on that dang obstacle course (he keeps moving the equipment and changing the obstacles... I'm starting to wonder if I'm even supposed to pass, but... eh, whatever) and I've been involved in three fights so far cause I don't know how to back down. Still, he answers my questions, shows me where I went wrong on my papers and gives me ideas for new learning strategies, pats me on the back after those courses (I technically got within two seconds of beating it yesterday!), and sends me to detention when I mess up like everyone else.

  If you're wondering, I mean to be a hero, so I'd go to bat for anyone, but who would I lay it all down for, no matter the circumstance? Tori (obviously), Hizashi, Yuka, little Yukari, and Vlad King. Hotaru is probably my best friend outside my family, and she's getting up there with how often she goes out of her way for me, but... I don't know, she's not quite there yet, okay? I can't explain why.

  Every day after school and sometimes before, I meet with my new mother, Yuka, in the family room made for my family. I do my workout with Vlad, and he decides if I'll have time to meet with my family before class; today, I do.

  As Yuka talks about my grades and the "playing the odds" strategy, which I started a while back, Tori packs up her bag and plays a goofy game with Yukari. Yukari runs at Tori, and Tori grabs her and slams her on the couch, holding her in a non-forceful way until the eight-year-old squirms away and restarts the bout, sometimes getting tickled for her efforts.

  I look around the room, my eyes falling on things starting to mean so much to me. Tori's flower collection- which Yuka constantly supplements from the countryside- is on the coffee table along with Yukari's fake comic book about the Purple Bandit... like I said, I would take a bullet for that little brat. A couple of plastic dinosaurs and cars that I use to amuse myself and my siblings are piled in a corner whenever I can escape my studies.

  "You will tell me if Vlad is working you too hard, right?" Yuka asks. "I mean, I have faith in the man, but... well, it's been over two weeks of early morning training sessions, and you're expected to keep up with everyone else."

  "Yuka, I'm fine," I say with a chuckle.

  "It's Mom, not Yuka. I worry about you daily and come out here nearly every day just to talk to you. I even have to program the school's public phones into my cell so your calls don't get screened because you're not allowed a mobile. The LEAST you can do is use my preferred honorific, young man."

  I look down. I wish it were that easy. Why can't I just do what she wants? "Mom" is supposed to be a unique name for a special person, a woman who can't be replaced no matter what... calling ANY woman "mom" has gotten harder over time.

  Foster care for most kids in Japan is relatively stable unless you're... different. For the first few years of my life (conscious life; I have little idea what happened before I was three), Tori and I lived in an institution. From there, we were tossed from one foster family to another. I always came with a warning that I was "special."

  The first time we were moved was the most painful. Tori was taken to a different home than me. I was only six and a half. I cried like crazy and refused to eat until... I guess they caved rather than watch a kid kill himself. Tori and I were reunited in a new home.

  But things only got marginally better from there. I figured out that my being so slow-witted was why Tori and I got separated in the first place. Thus, nothing could hold me back once we were together- I would no longer be behind the other kids. I won't tell you that learning was easy, but I set about doing it. I started stealing books from schools, orphanages, and institutes when I was placed in special education classes. I would get scolded, but usually, the scoldings came with confused faces. I gather they weren't used to kids trying to learn harder than their teachers tried to teach.

  Each home, unsure what to do with me, threw me back to an institute. Tori was usually in tow; otherwise, we freaked out without each other. We must have moved fifteen times in the end. Sometimes, a man or woman would insist on being called mom or dad; sometimes, they didn't care. Tori just went along with it, and I doubt those names mean more to her now than names like Bob or titles like "construction worker." I always wanted those names to be unique, so eventually, I refused to say them.

  Now...

  I look away from Yuka and say, "I'm trying... mom."

  She squeezes my shoulder. "I read your files, kiddo... so many homes. I can only imagine... I don't mean to be pushy; it's just... just..." she closes her eyes. "Take your time. Just know that you're home now."

  Tori jumps behind us and runs to the door. "Hey, mom, we gotta get going. Vlad usually sends someone to get Henry, remember? You want to walk to the nurse's office with me?"

  I smile at Tori as she bounces on her heels, that book bag barely making an impression on her. A part of me feels lighter just watching. To see her so happy and healthy, it's all worth it.

  "I don't know, I don't get to walk with your brother too often- Henry?"

  I take Yuka's hand, and she smiles at me.

  So, my new mother walks me to class.

  As we walk, my eyes wander over the hall. I look into an empty class room as we walk by. I hold up my right hand and look in, seeing eyes in the glass... my own eyes—eyes that don't belong here. I don't belong here... but I want to.

  Behind me, the door to the empty room opens and closes. Guess it wasn't that empty after all.

  Yuka talks about all kinds of things as we go, and I just listen. I'm okay letting my friends and family ramble just to know someone is happy with me being around them.

  We get to class, and some of the older kids chuckle or coo, thinking I'm cute, but- screw 'em.' They had time with their parents, and I didn't, so I'm doing these things now. I hug Yuka in front of everyone before she leaves, even as she looks at my chuckling classmates- let them chuckle.

  Yuka pulls away, having a few tears, smiles, and walks away.

  "Awwww!" Kendo can't help but say, stifling her chuckles. "Well, get in here already!" She sighs, watching me take my seat in the back of the class. "You're gonna make our class look bad if you do too much of that."

  "I'm a tag-along—it's not my class anyway," I reply with a grin.

  More barely hidden chuckles, probably at my expense, but again, let them. Even Togaru laughs out loud, saying, "Ya know what- screw it- I respect ya!"

  "So do I- that being said- I believe I said to be early," Vlad says, getting up from lounging at his desk as I cringe. "You're lucky I'm not looking to piss off your mother by punishing you for a family moment,"

  Vlad hits the chalkboard, "Field trip, today, the agency of the number four hero in Japan, Best Jeanist. Everyone up, get water, lunch, note taking materials- I don't need to explain this crap- go!"

  No staying in place today! Everyone jumps to their feet and starts assembling their bags.

  "Ya know, I say it's good that you're having a good time with that woman," Monoma says as we pack up and get in line. "You'll know how to act when you find your real mother. It's like a dress rehearsal!"

  I clench my teeth as he talks. I've gotten into two fights about this with Monoma already.

  He keeps talking as he packs. "Don't worry, I'm already on the case—not that I expect a thank you," Monoma continues. "Independent sources say you were found in Krakura town with your sister about nine and a half years ago. That's not a common tourist spot, but a US military base is about three miles away. Good money says you and Tori come from there, and it also says you're related. I just need to..."

  A big, gloved white hand suddenly rests on Monoma's shoulder. "You just need to mind your own business."

  "But Professor I-"

  "If checking the records of a local military base was all there was to it, America would have claimed them years ago. I've told you to back off. I don't know why you're obsessed with this."

  "Obsessed? Sir, he should know his parents- isn't that what's best?"

  "Name one guaranteed benefit," Vlad said, raising an eyebrow.

  "The word "guaranteed" is a stretch in a situation like-"

  "Then leave it alone. You're not helping."

  "I just think he deserves to know where he comes from; if you didn't know, wouldn't you want to? And what if they were good people? Don't they deserve to have their children back?"

  Vlad looks over at me. "You wanna know what I think?" I ask. The Professor nods. "I just want to live the life I have- I have enough going on."

  "That should settle it, move on Monoma."

  Monoma grits his teeth as he gets up to join the line. "It's not the best ending."

  I just roll my eyes and sigh, moving along with everyone else.

  In no time, I'm on a bus full of rowdy teenagers. As the youngest, you would think I would be the worst. However, I just stared out the window.

  Eventually, as everyone but me seems to like moving at stoplights, a teenager whose skin is black as a void sits next to me. I look up and see he has bleached white hair, and he seems to have an affinity for black clothes, wearing a black coat, jeans, and a black shirt. He put his chin on his fist and looked back at me. "So, I finally get to talk to the kid in class with the darkest past. I walk in real shadows, but you once walked in a kind of darkness that... well, a kind of darkness that even gives me... pause." I look away from him, just to have his head emerge from the shadows on my uniform, his eyes inches from mine.

  I shriek before his face disappears, and his whole body is beside me again. He laughs. "Hahahahaha! No, I suppose you're not THAT dark, are you?" he asks.

  "What? Dude, you're being weird." I look away from him again.

  "Am I? I think I'm in the right place for it,"

  I smirk on that line.

  "So, I'm told you more or less escaped your previous life of theft and terrorism."

  "Terrorism?"

  "Scaring people for business—some people could call it that. You may not be a killer yourself, but you did help things along in your own way," he says, folding his arms and sitting back. "I'm not judging; I'm fascinated."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Fascinated by what?" I ask.

  "By how long someone can lie to themselves."

  I turn my head back to look at him, confused.

  "Two years in that business, and you expect us all to believe you hated every minute of it? Are we supposed to believe you only escaped? After two years of being one of the best thieves in the business, you're just up and leaving it behind; good riddance, no love lost?"

  I look away again. "What are you trying to do?"

  "Learn. I will be fighting evil, and you, more than anyone else on this bus, have tasted it firsthand. Why does a person engage in it?" The boy cocks his head to the right. "Well?"

  "Why would I tell you?"

  "Well, I think you're kinda cool. Be honest for a few minutes. Do you miss anything? Anything at all?"

  I sigh and watch the cars outside as the rain gathers on the glass. I remember dodging through those cars like they were standing still. I remember figuring out ways to have my clones have dry clothes so they wouldn't leave water trails inside buildings. I remember any hero going up against me being hopeless... well, towards the end, anyway.

  Finally, I give in and tell him. "The chase."

  "The chase?"

  "It's so much fun. Pitting your mind against someone else's. It's an excuse to push your brain to its limits every second. With my memory problems, I couldn't plan much, but that meant I had to figure everything out in a moment. You'd be surprised how few heroes are used to doing that. Most crooks are one-trick ponies, but me? I liked to try different strategies constantly."

  "Can you tell me a few of them?"

  I grin. "Sure... wait, just to be sure, this isn't about me returning to that stuff, okay?"

  The older boy puts his hands in the air. "I'm just asking to learn."

  "Yeah, well... see, I had a few major maneuvers that even high-level heroes didn't know how to deal with. First was the halo maneuver, which I doubt Vlad will ever let me do again."

  "Is it that mean?"

  "Mean?" I cock my head at him. "C'mon man, mean isn't the Bandit's style. I had, ya know..." I flick a lock of my hair. "Class. But more than that, I had daring." I look down, eyes just slightly going up, trying to look daring as I talk. "I would come to the edge of a ten or twenty-story building and dive off the edge." I close my eyes and try to experience the thrill as we talk.

  "Wait- you can't fly, can you?"

  "Heck no- that's the daring part of it. Well, it could seem that way. The pace my mind moves at, I suppose it isn't. I could swing my arm and make a clone through any window on any floor and then transfer to it. If I can see the clone, I can transfer to it, even if I have trouble making it out."

  "Sounds pretty easy to screw up. Hope that's not your ultimate move or anything."

  I look away again.

  "Hey, I said you were cool and meant it." I still don't want to look at him. Truthfully, this is what I hate most; I know I'm no match for most of these kids. It's not like I can tell them to get lost if they don't want to. "It's not so much that you're strong; you're just hella brave. Right down to letting your mother walk you to class like that- in front of everyone."

  "Yeah, well- all the things she's done for me, it's the least I can do."

  "Hmm? Like what?"

  I remove my backpack and switch it to my front, pulling out a small sealable bag. "For one, look at these. Homemade chips—mom could have just packed stuff from the store, but everything she gives me and Tori is homemade." I give him a few of the chips and eat a few myself.

  "Wow... nice for a kid she claimed only a month ago."

  "She first made those for me like two days into my adoption. You should see my lunch!" I chuckle, then put away my snack before the driver or Professor thinks I'm messing up the bus. "She's not great with most subjects. Instead, she drills me on flash cards. But she'll do that for like two hours a day. I keep telling her about this shortcut called "playing the odds" that lets me cut out some work for a few fewer points and still pass... she says I can use it, but she's not gonna stop trying to push me to straight As." I finally look back at the teenager. "Heh... she even trusts me to play with her daughter Yukari when I can. Dude, I'd take a bullet for that woman."

  "The name is Kuroiro," says the teen as he offers a hand for me to shake. I take his hand and give him a wide smile. And don't worry about it. Honestly, I respect you for what you did. I love my mom, too, but let her walk me to class? You gotta be nuts. She would start kissing and hugging me in front of everyone if I allowed that!"

  "Allowed?" I ask back. "Isn't she the one who has authority over you?"

  "Technically? Yeah, sure, but... huh... guess I don't think of it that way. She just kinda lets me push her away."

  "Why? Just cause that's what you want?"

  "I guess so."

  "Sheesh... and so someone will do anything to make you happy, and you push them away? I don't get it." These teenagers are weird.

  "You're kinda making me feel guilty."

  "Maybe you should... look, I'm not judging you, okay? I just don't get how you're talking. You say I should tell Yuka to hike when she's being nice."

  "Well... I mean, don't be a doormat."

  I just raise an eyebrow at him.

  He sighs. "Dang it... Now I've gotta talk to my mom more. You're making me feel like a heel, ya know?"

  We finally arrive at the hero agency for the number four hero in Japan, Best Jeanist. I look up at... actually, the office of Jeanist is kind of mundane. It's a three-story white office building, and really, just looking at it... that can't be it.

  "That can't be all..." says Kuroiro beside me. We all start filtering into the facility, and my eyes travel everywhere. As a thief, I'm trained and experienced in learning when there's more than meets the eye.

  We walk into a spacious room with couches, bookshelves, and stairs leading to a large open area with giant speakers on either side. Above me is a wide-screen TV. It's all... not much.

  It's more than I can afford, but does Japan's number four hero slot not pay for more? "Where are all the crime-fighting gadgets?" asks Togaru.

  A man dressed in denim from head to toe, including jeans, a jean jacket, and even a popped collar that covers his face, walks into the room. Two men trail him, one dressed in a pink coat and the other in a T-shirt that says "SPORT" for some reason.

  Looking around again, I notice a large area with office chairs and computers to my left. It all seems pretty normal again. I'm kind of with Togaru—where are all the gadgets?

  The man in the jeans looks down and covers his face with his hand. "Why do I allow teenagers in here? At least with children, I can excuse how shabby they all look with them being cute," suddenly he points at me. You stand up straight. Where the heck do you think you are, home?"

  I straighten up.

  "And you, what kind of hairstyle is that?" the man said, pointing at Togaru. "And then you... wait..." His finger was pointing at Kinoko, but it traveled back to me. Suddenly, my arms were pulled out from my body, and I was yanked into the air by some kind of force.

  As the denim-clad hero stares me down, I feel thousands of strands cutting into my skin and uniform. He takes a comb out of a pocket, fixes his already perfect short blonde hair, and walks toward me.

  He cocks his head to the side as he rests his hand on my head. "You and I never fought... Bandit."

  "Getting the impression it wouldn't have gone well for me if we did..." I push out through gritted teeth as the threads tighten around me.

  "I'm warning you Tsunagu..." I hear Vlad say behind me.

  "You brought a criminal into my place of business—on purpose?" the hero says as the other teens back away from me. I'm unsure what I expect anyone to do, but I hope someone tries to fight for me.

  "He's not just a crook; he's turning around. Now put him down..." Vlad says. I look over at him and notice a red substance come out of that pump on his back and suddenly surround him.

  "This boy survived on everyone's mercy- if any of you had tried, you could have slaughtered him like a lamb..." The threads dig deeper, and I feel a few are starting to cut the first layer of skin. "But I guess none of you wanted the blood of a mere boy on your hands."

  "Put. Him. Down." Vlad says one more time.

  "Tell him to remove his double from my premises, and I will..."

  My eyes go wide.

  "What?" Vlad asks, then looks at me, and I look away.

  "It... it's not like... like..."

  Best Jeanist flicks his hand slightly, and I close my eyes to start laughing and giggling. "What... hehehehehe... hahaha hahaha... crap- what... kinda tickles- stahahahahhaapppp..." but I can't move, so my protests don't amount to much.

  "I wasn't going to kill you; I just wasn't sure what I WAS going to do. Seriously, do you mind getting rid of your clone for me?"

  "I have... hahahahahaha! Have to snnnnnaahahhapppp..." Finally, the threads stop moving just right to tickle me, and I snap the fingers of my left hand. The threads depart from me as suddenly as they enveloped me. Looking up at the number four hero, I have a fake plastered smile to fight down. "I... how did you..."

  "How did I know you had a clone?" Jeanist said, walking over and standing over me with his hands behind his back. "You probably deployed it when you got off the bus. I suppose normally, no one knows when you are or are not using your power. You're just a uniformed kid in a school full of uniformed kids." The hero turns around, chuckling. "Honestly, I'm not offended. Though for the future, don't expect everyone to take kindly to you just randomly deploying a spy into his midst. Now, look at the monitors on my desks; tell me what you see, students."

  Pony speaks up. "I think I see security feeds... looks like different areas over this whole building."

  "This building has three floors above ground and three below," Jeanist continues. "You'll find most heroes have some secrets they don't like dumb kids trying to invade... and you'll find some potential heroes are natural secret finders. Like a former thief, let's say."

  "You really should try apologizing..." Vlad says, walking up beside me.

  "Um... sorry." I try saying to Jeanist's back.

  "I'm not incredibly upset, just annoyed," Jeanist replies. "But I'm taking the opportunity for a teachable moment. You see, students, look at my cameras again. You will notice my employees through the cameras. Each of them is dressed differently and has a different hairstyle that is perfectly maintained. I'm aware of all of them- if a random kid in a white shirt, gray jeans, and..." I feel something yanked out of my left front pocket, just to look up and see my black cap suddenly in Jeanist's hands. "A red and black reversible cap... clever..." He says, considering the baseball cap.

  He hands the cap back to me, and I shove it back in my pocket. "You see, students, Henry here isn't bad at what he does. None of you saw him make a second of himself; he would have been impossible to track to anyone without a keen eye. That's your lesson one- and I'll tell Vlad not to punish you, Henry, as a thank you for wonderfully facilitating it."

  I bow, but in the back of my head, I'm scared of this guy right now. He picked my clone out from a casual glance at his cameras, to top off being FAR beyond my fighting abilities.

  "A hero must be ever vigilant." Jeanist reiterates. "Some evil-doers have specially designed quirks or costumes, but most just do what your classmate here just did and take advantage of casual ignorance. Instead of trying to sneak around, he had his clone change enough to be distinct from himself, put on the cap to hide its face, and then walk around like it owned the place. If I didn't have a strict dress code in my facility, I would not have been able to easily notice him, despite how little effort he put into fooling me."

  "Wait—are you saying all he did was make a clone, have it take off its jacket, put on a cap, and walk around casually? Any of us could have spotted him at that rate!" Tetsutetsu demands.

  Jeanist turns back to him. I think Jeanist is smiling, but I can't tell behind his collar. "Really? None of you knew he deployed a clone, did you?"

  Several of the other students scratch their heads nervously. Jeanist turns his back on them. "Of course you didn't. Do you know the purpose of a uniform or costume?"

  "To make the public feel safe. To let them know we're around and protecting them, sir!" Ibara says, raising her hand as she walks beside me and places a hand on my shoulder. "And I apologize for my classmate's actions. Do not judge him too harshly; he comes from a life of-"

  "Don't bother; he dug his hole and can dig his way out. I already asked for his punishment to be suspended because he facilitated such a valuable lesson," Jeanist waves her off. "Offhand, you're only half right- and mostly just philosophically correct. Costumes help people notice we're around at all. If heroes walked around casually dressed all the time, if ANY law enforcement were to constantly walk around casually dressed, people would start to be on edge, feeling like they never knew when they were being observed. Our costumes let the public not only know we are present, but that we are on their side- if we hide from them, the public doesn't know for whom we fight." Jeanist waves a hand at me. "Henry, please explain the basic philosophy of the costume change you made earlier."

  I cringe but then decide to just roll with it. "Right... well you see..." I hold up a finger, "You see, the human eye is adapted to track basic colors and shapes." getting into the moment, I start to pace before my classmates as I continue- from this outside, considering I'm about the smallest and doubtless the youngest person present, it's probably... sigh... adorable. "When you're tracking a person, intentionally or casually, unless you look carefully, you're not picking out specifics, just general pictures. If I can break away from the colors and the silhouette a person is looking for, I can avoid them. For instance, normally, Mr. Jeanist would have been looking for someone wearing a gray uniform with exposed hair if he wanted to track a student who had split off from the pack. Thus, my clone discarded his coat, flipped my hat inside to make it red, and popped it on. A mind's eye would recognize my clone as separate from the class. When it acted casually, nothing could draw the eye to it."

  "There's better stealth than that, oh brother!" says Monoma. "I've seen gadgets that make you invisible to the eye!" He folds his arms.

  "I'm sure you have." Suddenly, a new clone of mine shoves him from behind. He stumbles forward and glares at me. "And I'll bet you noticed them more than what I just snatched off your person..."

  Monoma quickly gets up and starts patting himself down. Then he sighs in exasperation. "Give me back my second watch, thief!" Best Jeanist walks past him and drops the golden pocket watch in the teenager's hand. "Wait... when did you pass it off?"

  Monoma blinks a few times, then puts his piece away, clearly confused.

  Jeanist chuckles, "I'm sure a few of you are becoming unsettled as you think through what you've witnessed. Your preteen friend can weave in and out of your class and through you whenever he likes, taking and spying as he pleases. Imagine what a REAL criminal could do."

  He then puts a finger in the air, almost mimicking me. "This is why we heroes wear costumes. To assure the public that we are there and that we are ever watching over them. They make us a known and trusted factor. None of you are honestly afraid of young Henry because you know him. My costume makes it so people know me. They know me from far away or up close by my silhouette. They know me at a glance. They know me, and so they are not afraid of me. Villains know me too- and they tremble."

  "I mean, you seem alright if a guy gets to know you," I say with a smirk.

  Jeanist looks back at me over his shoulder. "Tell me, boy, your clone was going through my facility- what were you looking for?"

  I look down. "You promise you're not upset?"

  "I'm incredibly annoyed... but I'll set it aside for now if you tell us what you're looking for."

  "Well... look, buddy, I'm good at what I do, but the people I grew up with for the last two years are way better... I'm scared they might be around."

  Jeanist suddenly walks back over to me and kneels to look me in the eyes. "Well? Is anyone in my agency... off?"

  I nod. "Orange shirt, third floor, blue jeans that were rolled up. My clone saw him looking over the cubicles as if trying to find something."

  Jeanist points to a nearby employee, the man in the "Sports" t-shirt. "You have your description. Move quickly. Do not spread the word."

  "Wait... what's going on?" Vlad asked.

  "You're finding out why I'm number 4," Jeanist says. "It's your job to discipline Henry; it's mine to pay attention to him or anyone else whose actions could alert me to danger. Henry has probably been casually sending spy clones around your school for a while now."

  "Why?" Vlad walks before me and looks down, concern etched on his face. "Kid?"

  I bite my lip. "Well... see..." I sigh and decide it's best to confess. "Over the last few weeks I've been sending out clones to have a look around school. I didn't really think much of doing it at first- like... if you guys had anything to hide you wouldn't be heroes anyway. It was just a fun bit of mischief, ya know? Last week I kinda put together that maybe I was in the wrong. However, that's when I realized that if I was in the wrong, it was kind of unnerving that I wasn't caught. I couldn't stop cause... cause I was afraid someone else could be doing what I was doing. I wasn't being caught, so maybe I had a better idea of what to look for."

  "Thus an act of mischief became an act of security. He's been trying to protect the school himself. He's scared... and I'm sorry to say, he may have a right to be," Jeanist says.

  "I'll tell Hizashi he needs to have a word with you kid," Vlad says. "But the point now is- Is someone is trying to attack us out here?" Vlad and the other students start looking around

  "If I noticed Henry's clone, someone else probably did too; as to them being here, I would doubt anyone beyond a tracker, which we, unfortunately..." The class hears a series of crashes and thuds above our heads, "Just confirmed. But why attack him in the agency of the number four hero in Japan in a small building?" I hear a few sighs of relief. "Why attack him here, in an agency of people who fight crime for a living? Why do that when they could wait till the boy leaves the school and wait for someone back at school who would have a harder time fighting back? Henry has been sending out monitors, making it hard for someone to attack him or those he's trying to protect. But now that he's out, is anyone at the school right now that could be used against him?"

  My eyes go wide. "Mom!"