Chapter 1
In vague collaboration with @The Ero-Sennin , I present My Hero Akane, a tale of friendship at the end of a knife, romance born of dubious logic, and gratuitous violence.
-----
"So it's a quirk marriage?" Akane Tendo said. At her father's astonished look, she leveled a finger at him. "Don't you dare! You know exactly what people will think when they find out I'm engaged to some boy with an emotion-making quirk. I'll never be a pro hero if everybody's thinking in the back of their heads that I'm just going to retire early and raise kids until one has the perfect combination of quirks!"
“It’s not like that at all.” Her supposed fiance-to-be’s father said indignantly. “A quirk marriage requires the families to know what your quirks are before arranging it. Your father and I decided to marry our heirs before you were even born.”
“As if that makes it any better.” Akane said, and looked to her own father for support. When he glanced away uncomfortably instead of rising to her support, her face reddened in frustrated anger, and she clenched her hands into fight fists at her sides. She turned on her heel and stormed from the room. “I’m going to the dojo.”
Soun Tendo fought back tears as he watched her leave.
Nabiki, the middle sister, took the opportunity to slip out of the room. She was used to easily avoiding attention, and reflexively froze when Genma immediately noticed her trying not to be seen. He glanced away dismissively, and she scurried upstairs.
Kasumi Tendo, the eldest of the three sisters, then brought the pair of men a matching pair of beers that the duo sipped quietly, putting aside all concerns to bask in the simple satisfaction of reuniting with an old friend.
The two were the same age, but looking at them gave two vastly different impressions. Soun Tendo stood tall and squared, with broad shoulders and long black hair. His appearance was patrician, almost as noble-looking as he’d been in his youth, but for the lines on his face that spoke of intense joy and sadness in equal measure.
Genma Saotome was shorter than his friend, and rounded in the middle. His shoulders angled downward, playing into the impression of bulk, he wore a bandana over his bald scalp, and his eyes sat furtively on a face that spoke of chronic worry. The weight was new, but the easy confidence that hung about him was not. He had always been the quicker to decide on a course of action and commit to it, between them.
“Perhaps one of your other daughters?” Genma broke the silence to ask. “If Akane is unwilling, perhaps -what were their names- Nabiki and Kasumi?”
Soun mulled that over, inspecting it in his head. “No.” He said, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Nabiki is quirkless.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Genma said easily. “My mother was quirkless.”
“Of course. I would never insult your mother. She was a wonderful woman, but almost everyone in the younger generation has a quirk. If Nabiki partners with Ranma, then wouldn’t that socially disadvantage him?”
“That’s just nonsense. Skill is what matters to a martial artist, the product of a good work ethic and excellent training, not whatever quirk you were born with.” The protests weren’t entirely hollow. “But you know your own family best. What about your eldest?”
Kasumi chose that moment to come back into the living room with another pair of bottles. She whisked the old ones away at the same time, and smiled politely but stiffly at her prospective father in law. “I’m sorry but younger men bore me, and I started seeing someone recently.”
Soun jerked upright, shocked. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone!”
“We’ve only gone on two dates.” She soothed.
“Well, that hardly counts. Have another drink -the night is young.” Genma tried to calm his old friend as well, and slid a fresh bottle into his hands.
“Mm. No.” Kasumi shook her head primly. “We’ve known each other for almost a year, from work, and we’re quite sure of what we’re doing.”
The implications in that statement made her father’s face first turn green, then red, then sickly blue. He raised his bottle to his lips and swallowed half of it before collapsing onto the table, sobbing. “WAAAAH! My daughter is all grown up!”
Kasumi handed the family’s guest a hand towel embroidered with a picture of a waterfall, glanced meaningfully at the growing puddle of tears seeping across the wooden table, and left.
After much consoling, cajoling, and the conspicuous absence of further alcohol until the crying had stopped, the two grown men once more sat across from each other. If Soun’s eyes were red and puffy, then neither of them acknowledged noticing it. Kasumi brought them the last of the beers, and left, leaving the two of them alone.
“Akane does have a point. Engaging her and Ranma… It does seem like a quirk marriage.” Soun said as he stroked his moustache.
Genma snorted. “But it’s not. Come now, old friend. You know better than that!”
Akane’s father nodded, but he still hesitated. Both fathers had studied under the same master, suffered under him for the sake of learning from his wisdom and skill, but… there was a reason why Soun Tendo was the only member of their group who didn’t have arrest warrants issued in his name in three countries. He knew how to take care of his image.
“Your boy is going to U.A., isn’t he?” He asked.
“Of course he is. Ranma’s got problems, but I’ve trained him well enough for that!” Genma said.
“My girl wants to attend as well, in their heroics program. The problem is that U.A. is the best school for heroes in the country, so the media likes to dig into any hint of scandal it can find. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t intend to create a quirk marriage, so long as it looks like one occured.”
“You think the media will jump on it?”
“I’m sure that they would, if we push this. We’d put the good names of our respective martial arts styles at risk.”
Genma considered that. He wasn’t a stupid man. He was actually more clever than Soun. He thought differently -more deviously. It was one reason why he disapproved of the system that created and governed Pro Heroes. Such a rigid structure was rife with opportunities for the unscrupulous to abuse it. A true hero had to be governed by his passions and his honor, which is why he kept his activities outside the mainstream, and acted as a vigilante.
...That he had a rap sheet that weighed more than he did was unimportant. Nobody could prove that he’d done anything illegal.
“Perhaps you’re right. If we take the selfish path and rush this union, then the media will blow it up out of proportion, and sabotage their careers.” He admitted, but then narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, smiling. “But if the two of them just so happen to end up in the same school?”
Soun’s face sprouted a smile to mirror Genma’s. “In the same class.”
“Spending time with each other.”
“Training together.”
“Living in the same house after classes.”
“A young man and a young woman, thrown together so often, can only have one outcome!” Soun proclaimed. “And we won’t even have to do anything. You really are a genius, old friend.”
Genma chuckled. “I think this calls for a celebratory toast.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. Only… you are sure that Ranma can pass the entrance exams, aren’t you?”
“His academics are a little shoddy.” The rotund man admitted. “But his physical abilities are very high, especially when he’s confident enough to use his quirk. I just can’t see him anywhere other than rising to the top -just don’t tell him that. I don’t want him to get a swelled head.”
Neither of them men paid attention to Ranma Saotome, or noticed that he’d followed Akane out long before.
-----
Akane stood in the dojo. She hadn’t taken the time to change into a gi, and wore the same jean shorts and t shirt she’d been introduced to Ranma in. Sweat gleamed on her arms and dampened her brow, and she panted lightly as she stilled the gently swaying punching bag. Faint yellow light wisped from her hands -her quirk responding to the happiness her father and that fat man felt as they decided her future for her.
The Tendo Dojo was a licensed quirk-use school for limited scenarios, mostly limited to martial arts matches held within its walls, as well as the training for those matches. Joy didn’t do anything to a punching bag. It just helped her sustain her maximum effort for longer. It was something like an endurance boost, but it faded as soon as she stopped using it, dropping her back down to exhaustion.
She turned away and saw the boy there, watching her. He had black hair with a slight curl to it, cut almost like hers was, but instead of reaching down to her back his was tied up in a short, thin braid. He wore a red shirt over loose, deep blue pants that were tied off at the ankle so that they wouldn’t flap around, and his gaze was judgemental.
Akane didn’t like judgemental.
“And what do you have to say for yourself?” She snapped. “Do you think we should get married, huh?!”
Ranma shoved his hands in the pockets of his baggy pants. He stared past her, and then abruptly looked her directly in the eyes. “If you’ve got a dream to follow, then you should do that. All this arguing is just a waste of time.”
“What?”
“You wanna be a pro hero, right? Me too, and I’m going to be number one.” Ranma said, and flashed a confident grin that completely changed his face. Gone was the brooding silence, the disgruntled look. He was confident now, brimming with energy. “I’ve got an application to U.A. and everything.”
“Even after being out of the country for a while? How’d you get an application in?”
“Pops said he knew somebody who knew somebody.” Ranma shrugged, showing his utter disinterest in how he’d be taking the exams.
“That makes sense, at least.” Akane grumbled.
“Anyway, the important thing is that a martial artist needs to follow their gut, according to my pop, and… I mean he’s usually a liar, and he’s lazy, and a thief…” He trailed off, and scratched his head sheepishly. “But he’s right about that. If you can’t believe in yourself, then what can you believe in?”
“That’s nice of you to say.” Akane mumbled. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. To tell the truth, I’m taking the U.A. entry exam tomorrow too, and I guess I’m just a little nervous, and this engagement thing didn’t help...”
Ranma nodded. “Even if you are a girl, I’m sure you’ll do alright. You didn’t look half b-”
He never saw the punch that laid him out, but he felt it when he woke up in the morning.
-----
"So it's a quirk marriage?" Akane Tendo said. At her father's astonished look, she leveled a finger at him. "Don't you dare! You know exactly what people will think when they find out I'm engaged to some boy with an emotion-making quirk. I'll never be a pro hero if everybody's thinking in the back of their heads that I'm just going to retire early and raise kids until one has the perfect combination of quirks!"
“It’s not like that at all.” Her supposed fiance-to-be’s father said indignantly. “A quirk marriage requires the families to know what your quirks are before arranging it. Your father and I decided to marry our heirs before you were even born.”
“As if that makes it any better.” Akane said, and looked to her own father for support. When he glanced away uncomfortably instead of rising to her support, her face reddened in frustrated anger, and she clenched her hands into fight fists at her sides. She turned on her heel and stormed from the room. “I’m going to the dojo.”
Soun Tendo fought back tears as he watched her leave.
Nabiki, the middle sister, took the opportunity to slip out of the room. She was used to easily avoiding attention, and reflexively froze when Genma immediately noticed her trying not to be seen. He glanced away dismissively, and she scurried upstairs.
Kasumi Tendo, the eldest of the three sisters, then brought the pair of men a matching pair of beers that the duo sipped quietly, putting aside all concerns to bask in the simple satisfaction of reuniting with an old friend.
The two were the same age, but looking at them gave two vastly different impressions. Soun Tendo stood tall and squared, with broad shoulders and long black hair. His appearance was patrician, almost as noble-looking as he’d been in his youth, but for the lines on his face that spoke of intense joy and sadness in equal measure.
Genma Saotome was shorter than his friend, and rounded in the middle. His shoulders angled downward, playing into the impression of bulk, he wore a bandana over his bald scalp, and his eyes sat furtively on a face that spoke of chronic worry. The weight was new, but the easy confidence that hung about him was not. He had always been the quicker to decide on a course of action and commit to it, between them.
“Perhaps one of your other daughters?” Genma broke the silence to ask. “If Akane is unwilling, perhaps -what were their names- Nabiki and Kasumi?”
Soun mulled that over, inspecting it in his head. “No.” He said, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Nabiki is quirkless.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Genma said easily. “My mother was quirkless.”
“Of course. I would never insult your mother. She was a wonderful woman, but almost everyone in the younger generation has a quirk. If Nabiki partners with Ranma, then wouldn’t that socially disadvantage him?”
“That’s just nonsense. Skill is what matters to a martial artist, the product of a good work ethic and excellent training, not whatever quirk you were born with.” The protests weren’t entirely hollow. “But you know your own family best. What about your eldest?”
Kasumi chose that moment to come back into the living room with another pair of bottles. She whisked the old ones away at the same time, and smiled politely but stiffly at her prospective father in law. “I’m sorry but younger men bore me, and I started seeing someone recently.”
Soun jerked upright, shocked. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone!”
“We’ve only gone on two dates.” She soothed.
“Well, that hardly counts. Have another drink -the night is young.” Genma tried to calm his old friend as well, and slid a fresh bottle into his hands.
“Mm. No.” Kasumi shook her head primly. “We’ve known each other for almost a year, from work, and we’re quite sure of what we’re doing.”
The implications in that statement made her father’s face first turn green, then red, then sickly blue. He raised his bottle to his lips and swallowed half of it before collapsing onto the table, sobbing. “WAAAAH! My daughter is all grown up!”
Kasumi handed the family’s guest a hand towel embroidered with a picture of a waterfall, glanced meaningfully at the growing puddle of tears seeping across the wooden table, and left.
After much consoling, cajoling, and the conspicuous absence of further alcohol until the crying had stopped, the two grown men once more sat across from each other. If Soun’s eyes were red and puffy, then neither of them acknowledged noticing it. Kasumi brought them the last of the beers, and left, leaving the two of them alone.
“Akane does have a point. Engaging her and Ranma… It does seem like a quirk marriage.” Soun said as he stroked his moustache.
Genma snorted. “But it’s not. Come now, old friend. You know better than that!”
Akane’s father nodded, but he still hesitated. Both fathers had studied under the same master, suffered under him for the sake of learning from his wisdom and skill, but… there was a reason why Soun Tendo was the only member of their group who didn’t have arrest warrants issued in his name in three countries. He knew how to take care of his image.
“Your boy is going to U.A., isn’t he?” He asked.
“Of course he is. Ranma’s got problems, but I’ve trained him well enough for that!” Genma said.
“My girl wants to attend as well, in their heroics program. The problem is that U.A. is the best school for heroes in the country, so the media likes to dig into any hint of scandal it can find. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t intend to create a quirk marriage, so long as it looks like one occured.”
“You think the media will jump on it?”
“I’m sure that they would, if we push this. We’d put the good names of our respective martial arts styles at risk.”
Genma considered that. He wasn’t a stupid man. He was actually more clever than Soun. He thought differently -more deviously. It was one reason why he disapproved of the system that created and governed Pro Heroes. Such a rigid structure was rife with opportunities for the unscrupulous to abuse it. A true hero had to be governed by his passions and his honor, which is why he kept his activities outside the mainstream, and acted as a vigilante.
...That he had a rap sheet that weighed more than he did was unimportant. Nobody could prove that he’d done anything illegal.
“Perhaps you’re right. If we take the selfish path and rush this union, then the media will blow it up out of proportion, and sabotage their careers.” He admitted, but then narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, smiling. “But if the two of them just so happen to end up in the same school?”
Soun’s face sprouted a smile to mirror Genma’s. “In the same class.”
“Spending time with each other.”
“Training together.”
“Living in the same house after classes.”
“A young man and a young woman, thrown together so often, can only have one outcome!” Soun proclaimed. “And we won’t even have to do anything. You really are a genius, old friend.”
Genma chuckled. “I think this calls for a celebratory toast.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. Only… you are sure that Ranma can pass the entrance exams, aren’t you?”
“His academics are a little shoddy.” The rotund man admitted. “But his physical abilities are very high, especially when he’s confident enough to use his quirk. I just can’t see him anywhere other than rising to the top -just don’t tell him that. I don’t want him to get a swelled head.”
Neither of them men paid attention to Ranma Saotome, or noticed that he’d followed Akane out long before.
-----
Akane stood in the dojo. She hadn’t taken the time to change into a gi, and wore the same jean shorts and t shirt she’d been introduced to Ranma in. Sweat gleamed on her arms and dampened her brow, and she panted lightly as she stilled the gently swaying punching bag. Faint yellow light wisped from her hands -her quirk responding to the happiness her father and that fat man felt as they decided her future for her.
The Tendo Dojo was a licensed quirk-use school for limited scenarios, mostly limited to martial arts matches held within its walls, as well as the training for those matches. Joy didn’t do anything to a punching bag. It just helped her sustain her maximum effort for longer. It was something like an endurance boost, but it faded as soon as she stopped using it, dropping her back down to exhaustion.
She turned away and saw the boy there, watching her. He had black hair with a slight curl to it, cut almost like hers was, but instead of reaching down to her back his was tied up in a short, thin braid. He wore a red shirt over loose, deep blue pants that were tied off at the ankle so that they wouldn’t flap around, and his gaze was judgemental.
Akane didn’t like judgemental.
“And what do you have to say for yourself?” She snapped. “Do you think we should get married, huh?!”
Ranma shoved his hands in the pockets of his baggy pants. He stared past her, and then abruptly looked her directly in the eyes. “If you’ve got a dream to follow, then you should do that. All this arguing is just a waste of time.”
“What?”
“You wanna be a pro hero, right? Me too, and I’m going to be number one.” Ranma said, and flashed a confident grin that completely changed his face. Gone was the brooding silence, the disgruntled look. He was confident now, brimming with energy. “I’ve got an application to U.A. and everything.”
“Even after being out of the country for a while? How’d you get an application in?”
“Pops said he knew somebody who knew somebody.” Ranma shrugged, showing his utter disinterest in how he’d be taking the exams.
“That makes sense, at least.” Akane grumbled.
“Anyway, the important thing is that a martial artist needs to follow their gut, according to my pop, and… I mean he’s usually a liar, and he’s lazy, and a thief…” He trailed off, and scratched his head sheepishly. “But he’s right about that. If you can’t believe in yourself, then what can you believe in?”
“That’s nice of you to say.” Akane mumbled. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. To tell the truth, I’m taking the U.A. entry exam tomorrow too, and I guess I’m just a little nervous, and this engagement thing didn’t help...”
Ranma nodded. “Even if you are a girl, I’m sure you’ll do alright. You didn’t look half b-”
He never saw the punch that laid him out, but he felt it when he woke up in the morning.
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