Episode One 〃Origin: Len Matsumoto〃

"You'll never be anything boy. Nobody is ever going to need you so just stay laying on your side and bleed the fuck out already!"

Dad used to tell me that all the time. That all I would ever be good for is laying down and taking my beatings like a good boy. Too bad he never lived past seventy to see his dream for me lived out. Part of Japan's nastier 'heroin' and completely under the thumb of some even nastier government officials.

I don't give a shit about them. Or myself for that matter. But it pays the bills and I guess there's some deep part of me that needs to feel wanted, a need dad only ever bothered to deepen. It sucks living with a longing like that, but I'm not too ashamed to admit I'm a selfish guy and if doing my job eases the ache I'll keep doing it till I finally kick the bucket.

Blowing out a long and hard breath, I scribbled with a marker on my thumb nail while I waited for the most recent disaster report from the team's excursions in Korea.

Oh yeah, by the way, my team is a group of people like me that the government grabbed up out of the slums and made their personal lap dogs- a lot like some program they had going for a while where they did the same to kids with promising quirks and made'um heroes. Bond A-4 is what they call us, and don't question me about the shitty naming because that wasn't my job.

Ah yeah sorry- I'm probably screwing with your poor head by getting ahead of myself. The names' Len Matsumoto, I'm forty one years old and I'm what today's society would call an anti-hero. Or I suppose in more PG terms, a legalized vigilantly.

This new age of peace has been wonderful for the heroes, making life not just in Japan, but the entire world easier. And while they stroll around practically carefree, it's me and my team who make sure they're not figuratively stepping on nails and broken glass that's left on the sidewalk. Think of us like the house keepers of Japan: we make sure everything is clean even if we have to get our hands dirty doing it.

A sharp knock at the door to the box sized room I was given as an office resounded before Asahi strode in, that plastic look of 'I can't believe you pinned me with all the paper work again so I was pulling double shifts' on their face.

"Finally got all the reports back from Tenka Six," they grumble after dropping a stack of manilla folders down onto my cigarettes like it's not an absolute war crime. Quickly I reached over and rescued the poor things before leaning back in my duct tape apolstered chair. Kicking my shoes up onto my desk, I have them a deadpan look.

Underneath Asahi's striking orange eyes was dark like they hadn't slept well recently and I felt that, mine had practically been stuck they way since birth.

"I can see that," I grunt in return and they rubbed between their brows before plopping their wirey self on my desk top. Crossing their legs, they opened the top folder while I lit one of my squashed smokes.

"Oh that's nasty you know those are bad for you right?" Came the usual lecturing huff as they reached one of their quirk manifested ribbons over to the window and cracked it.

"Not like it's new business," is all I give them before jerking my chin to the open report to get us back on track. "What have you got for me?"

"Property damage reports mostly, seeing as Pirako couldn't have his quirk stabilizers on at the airline checkpoint," they replied ruefully, flipping through from what I could tell were detailed photos of ground zero.

Smoke slid from between my teeth as I breathed out in a hiss and pushed my glasses down from where I'd stuck'um up on my head. "Betting the bureaucrats' aren't all that pleased with us over it?"

With a shake of their head they went on," and even though we had minimal casualties they're demanding more overtime safe protocol seminars."

"Ewwww," I drone out, letting one of my hands flop to the side of my chair," when are they going to get that not a single one of us cares about those? We aren't exactly hired for our table manners."

Asahi nods and reaches a nimble hand up to gently pull at the short pale blue hair of their pixy cut. It's something I've come not to point out as it just irks them to have people bring up their quirks when they're already very aware of them.

"I don't get why they've been hammering us about that kind of thing as of late. Me and some of the team were talking about it earlier and Shia said it could be because of the peace right now that the hero's have going on. With messy jobs it makes us easier to pick out by the public and the brass doesn't want the one thing they've still got control over to get shut down."

Picking through the folder they pulled a sticky note out, looked it over and stuck it back in its place with a grugled grumble.

"But it's not like we aren't always as careful as we can be. And Pirako not having quirk inhibitors wasn't something we planned on. So to get after all of us isn't exactly fair."

Shia was absolutely right about that. I'm one of the older people on our fifteen person team, so the news that ops like ours are being sniffed out by the Hero Commission wasn't hot news to me. I know the things we do aren't all good, and that's just a fact.

To make matters more on edge, the newer guy- some Keigo something-or-other that had taken over the Hero Public Safety Commission back when All for One got taken down, had been using connections all over the country to try and sniff out our operation. We don't know how or why yet, but we're pretty sure the guys found something on us because he's doubled his investigative efforts.

"Not like a bunch of walking, rich assholes care though," taking in a drag of my cigarette I leaned my head back and aimed the exhale at the ceiling. "It's all about control for them. If they can't have it...well you might as well try and take a kids tablet away: it's not happening without a fight that involves biting, pinching, and hair pulling."

Asahi hummed ruefully in agreement and went on to read off some key points from from TS I until wed gotten about halfway through the report stack. They were about to crash I could tell- with the way they kept slumping over and they're eyes looked almost cemented shut everytime they blinked.

"We can call it for the day kid," I declared, pulling my legs down from my desk and putting my third cigarette in my recently cleaned ashtray.

"Go home and get a bowl of ramen and a good night's sleep yah'hear?"

A small smile graced their narrow lips and I shot a lazy one back in return. This team, this job has been the bane of my existence since I was a teen. It makes me a bad person to be a part of it, and yet the only people I can say I kind of care about are the other people that are a part of it too.

They might not be exactly what I need- if I figure out what it even is that I need to fill that hole in my chest. But it's not like I've got any right to complain; after all, everything I've got I wouldn't have if it weren't for Bond A-4.

"Ayooo~," Giichi chirped as Asahi and I got out of my office. They made an immediate beeline for the coffee machine over by the water fountain while I came to stand with my hands tucked in my pants pockets beside  my blonde haired coworker.

"Boss man you got mail from the bureau," he shared matter-of-factly, waving around an already opened letter with a very official blue seal stamped on it.

Taking it apathetically from him, I folded it and tucked it in my pocket.

"Yeah? What's it for?"

The golden haired menace tilted his head back in his chair and looked up thoughtfully while responding. Well- if thoughtfulness were really the face of a nosy little punk. Really he looked more concerned than anything.

"Something about needing you to come in to meet? I know it's weird but everyone else got one too saying something similar but yours has the most recent date to come in. It didn't detail why; only that you have to."

This could be absolutely nothing good. The people in charge never called on us- ever. The more direct contact they have with our team, the higher chance they have of our entire op being found out by authorities and the HPSC. For years they've maintained distance for their own safety: much to the point that none of us even really know who's in charge, just that it's a small group of powerful politicians.

"Huh," reaching up to scratch my scruffy jaw and rubbing the skin under the bridge of my glasses, I met Gichii's questioning gaze.

"Guess I'm not heading home early tonight," with a drawn out sigh I flicked the harbinger of my doom on his forehead. "That's for losing me a night of sake and Gaki no Tsukai."

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The drive to the address on the letter was long in every aspect. My eyes were heavy as I kept'um trained on the road and the cars in front of me. The skin under where my glasses rested kept getting itchy and I'd think it was annoying if it weren't about the only thing keeping me awake now that it was almost ten o'clock.

Nagoya's busy streets practically triggered my astigmatism despite my glasses. There was a reason I had blackout curtains at home and it was times like this that being blind didn't sound so bad.

The highway was jam-packed even though most people's work hours should have ended by now, so trying to find the off ramp took some meticulous calculating and even more meticulous driving before I finally headed away from the city center.

My GPS led me to a tall building not too far from the Gakuen Spiral Towers that looked like a more modern and upkept version of Bond A-4's office. Pulling my car into the parking garage was thankfully not as hard as it was to actually get to here, and the walk up to the ninth floor (yes, I walked, no I'll never elaborate.) helped wake up my fuzzy brain.

Did I bother to fix my mussed up gray undershirt? No. Nor did I feel like brushing the wrinkles out of my pants. Once I reached a door of the office labeled with the numbers mentioned on the paper, I gave it a small knock and was met a moment later with a rather joval 'come in.'

Once the door opened, the smell of artificial mint and cleaner wafted up my nose and it made me wish for the warm smell of coffee and incense I always had at home.

"Gah, finally! Matsumoto is it? It's been a long time that I've wanted to meet you. The reports I receive about your quirk on the job are astounding," says a plump man sitting behind the dark wood of a desk adjacent to a massive wall of windows that overlooked the surrounding area.

"By means of confidentiality I can't give you my name but you can call me Mr. J."

Beckoning me over to sit across from him, I take a seat and can't help my instinctual slouch. I see the corners of 'Mr. Js' eyes pinch at my unkept appearance but like I care: the guys older than me by the looks of things, maybe mid fifties. So whatever respect I'm sure his geezer ass thinks he deserves I don't plan on sharing much, seeing as he'll be kicking the bucket before me if both our lives go right so it'd be a waste.

"I know this is all really out of the blue and I hate to do this too you, but me and the board have decided we're going to need to make some temporary placement changes to Bond A-4," he cut to the chase with faux lamentation.

Holding down my initial thought to react harshly; slamming my hands down on his desk and demanding why and what he meant exactly. Instead, I swallowed the impulse like an adult and let the tonkatsu keep talking.

"Because of some of the. . . backlash that organizations like Bond A-4 have been facing recently, it's been decided we will be splitting your team up into different public professions, as to keep any uproar from disrupting our usual activities."

Wordy much? Why couldn't he just say: yeah your getting a new job until all this shit blows over and then you can go back to doing illegal 'hero' work. His speech just graded my nerves more until I swore they had to be raw and exposed to see. I should have guessed that something would happen with all the investigating, but not anything as drastic as this.

It's times like these that I wish I hadn't't built a rep as a laid back dog, happy to bathe in the sun during the day for the price of obediently hunting at night. Maybe if I'd been different from the start I might be able to nash my teeth and fight back.

"I myself was charged with picking your new placement Mr. Matsumoto, which is why I'm meeting with you one on one," he stood from his chair with the smallest of grunts and walked to the wall of windows to stare out at the city lighting up the night into florescent day. How many Shonen Manga's did this guy have to read to think that move is okay to pull in real life?

"Can't help but be curious if it's a bit early to be doing stuff like this don't you think?" The calm nonchalance in my voice comes naturally, but it surprises even me I could sound so mailable. Especially considering what I wanted to do was take his stapler and give him a low budget blepharoplasty.

With an mockingly discerned wave of one of his leathery hands, the bureaucrat with his grossly pomaded hair returned back to me with a pensive look on his face but a sharp glint in his eyes.

"As cliche as it may seem, we can't take more risks than necessary and it was decided that splitting up the organization for the time being would be best. Running the risk of having the Safety Commission stuffing their noses in business they don't need to know about is too high at the moment if you haven't already noticed and we do like what we have going."

I bet you do you sordid sack of shit. Closing my eyes for a moment to keep my neutral expression, I let the exhale out my nose. It wasn't like I was genuinely mad about what was happening; a while ago I realized that my emotions are really dull- like trying to chop wood with a butcher knife.

However I could be mad on behalf of all the people that are part of Bond A-4 and considered our team members their family. And yeah, the illegal work gave me a mild sense of purpose and that among a handful of other things are all I have in this world.

"Then what is it you've got planned for me Mr. J?"

It was like handing a baby a fine piece of porcelain and not expecting the thing to get smashed.

The older man gave me a smile that spoke of years of public appearances and fake expressions. I might not like this guy, but I know I'd never play mahjong with him.

"Glad to see we're both ready to get to the point Matsumoto," clapping his hands together, he walked back over and rested his hands on the back of his expensive leather chair. "Well I'm sure you've seen the news: one of the UA teachers retired this year and the prestigious school is in dire need to fill the spot before the next school year rolls around."

There was no way, not a chance in hell-

"You've been nominated by one of my close friends to the school board and given your extensively impressive background-"

"There's no way you want me to teach a bunch of highschool brats. I'm not made for that. And what what do you mean my 'background'? I've never taught anyone a day in my damn life."

Sitting forward now, I pushed my palm against my face which forced my glasses up enough for me to rub my physically straining eyes and figuratively straining will.

"Pfft-," Mr. J scoffed with a bemused smile under the thick, fuzzy mustache on his upper lip," in my position pulling a couple strings is the smallest of things. To everyone you'll meet, you have a doctorate in education, a bachelor's in psychology and a master's in hero strategy. I've even got things set up so that for the last ten years you've been a college professor at Tohoku University."

At my continuous disbelief, he gave a sinisterly warm chuckle," from this day and moving forward you are no longer a member of the illegal heroin group Bond A-4: but a one Professor Len Matsumoto."