Engineering jargon floated above the table.
Kirishima struggled to keep his wits about him amid the hectic flow as he sipped his coffee.
"So you’re saying we might run out of bullets?"
"Exactly. What if we construct it as an integrated vambrace covering the entire arm, attach the magazine to the forearm, and continuously feed rounds through a firing mechanism on the back of the hand?"
"But if you use it that much, will the muzzle even hold up? With repeated explosions and freezing damage, it sounds like a harsh environment."
"Don’t dismiss it before we’ve even tried! If the muzzle’s durability is the issue, we just need to find a material that can handle it. We’re not materials engineers ourselves, so making it from scratch would be challenging."
"Mm. That does make sense."
"Not just makes sense—it’s the right idea. When you’re creating Baby, you can’t be shackled by old prejudices. Be free. Experiment boldly. Sure, it might be a bit dangerous, but if you let fear hold you back, you’re no pro!"
Kirishima mused, "That all sounds convincing, but isn’t it exactly the sort of remark a mad scientist would make?"
In his experience, the risks weren’t limited to the developer alone.
As a test user, he’d discovered that many of the devices he’d experimented with could have seriously injured him if he hadn’t been the one donning them.
There were things that exploded, caught fire, constricted too much, or even warped entirely.
Watching Tetsuya nod in agreement with Hatsume’s enthusiastic suggestions, Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder if this was really the right way to push innovation.
It felt as if he were caught in the middle of a mad scientist grooming the next generation of mad scientists.
"Big bro! What about you? You actually tried it out yourself, right? Even if the firepower was dialed down considerably."
"Huh? Even if you ask me, it doesn’t really matter. I don’t need a huge boost in attack power. Right now, I could probably finish most villains with a single blow. And even if that weren’t the case, a strike enhanced by a gauntlet isn’t exactly irresistible either."
"Oh? That’s interesting. What kind of Quirk do you have?"
"Kirishima’s Quirk is [Hardening]. It makes my body tougher and my strength increases! It’s as simple as that."
At Tetsuya’s innocent evaluation, Kirishima managed a rueful smile.
He knew his Quirk was solid and suited him perfectly, even if others considered it plain and straightforward.
"Wow! That’s awesome! So we can experiment without worry, right? Let’s be friends!"
"No, you can’t just be so forward the first time we meet..."
Kirishima was taken aback as Hatsume brazenly discussed experiments and exchanged contact information.
If she was destined to become a top-notch support item designer, forging acquaintances wouldn’t be a bad idea—but something about getting too close felt exhausting to him.
Tetsuya, oblivious to Kirishima’s inner reservations, was excited that those he liked were making an effort to bond.
"Wow! Big bro, you really should get close with her. She’s renowned in my community for her talent, and besides, she hardly ever shows interest in anyone else."
"And you’re okay with that...?"
After all the talk about marriage on the way over, Tetsuya’s nonchalant suggestion to just be friends struck Kirishima as rather absurd.
Normally, wouldn’t a guy be a little jealous?
Maybe he was overconfident enough to believe that someone like himself wouldn’t be interfered with, but this kid was certainly eccentric in his own way.
Of course, Kirishima wasn’t one to dislike confident talent.
It was even better if they had a strong sense of conviction.
Though this was a somewhat different matter altogether.
"Ugh. Let’s take it slow and get to know each other," he conceded.
"Great! Then let’s start with introductions. I’m Hatsume Mei, fifteen years old, in my third year of middle school. I love support item development and chocolate, and I live here in Kyoto."
Hatsume’s roundabout self-introduction left Kirishima with a pounding headache.
Normal conversation seemed impossible with her—it felt like talking to a child.
Perhaps that was why she got along so well with Tetsuya, not just because their interests aligned.
What kind of conversation flow is this...?
"Sigh. I’m Kirishima Eijiro, fourteen, and in my third year of middle school."
"Nice! So we’re friends now, right? Just call me Mei, and I’ll call you by your first name too."
"Yeah, sure. Fine, I’ll call you Mei."
"That’s the spirit, Eijiro. Now, back to the main point—what kind of item do you think you need? Have you given any thought to your costume?"
"Well, I’ve considered it a bit."
"Wow. I’m curious too."
Still struggling to keep pace with their rapid-fire conversation, Kirishima suddenly broke into a cold sweat as he recalled the costume idea that had been on his mind for so long.
In hindsight, a costume didn’t offer much practical benefit for someone like him.
[Hardening] provided ample defense, and his offense was no different.
All that remained was a concept to help him stand out, but nothing convincing came to mind.
Given his fighting style, any costume top would likely get damaged quickly, so he planned on going without one entirely.
Since he couldn’t just walk around in his underwear, he intended to settle for fairly long pants.
When he revealed his tentative plan, both Mei and Tetsuya were taken aback and promptly chided him.
"That’s absurd! A costume is a hero’s symbol. Without a top, it’s nothing more than everyday clothes."
"I mean, having at least a minimal concept wouldn’t hurt—but I just couldn’t come up with one."
"You must have also thought of a hero name, right? Surely you have something planned?"
"Huh? I’ve already decided. I’m going with Champion. It signifies being the best, and it also implies a warrior who fights on behalf of others—like a spokesman for those who can’t fight for themselves."
In truth, it was a name he’d settled on while reflecting on his past life.
After reincarnating, he’d realized that the ideas of a warrior and a spokeswoman could both be embodied in a single word.
"Oh. The way you put it makes it sound really cool, big bro."
"Does it? Good."
"Alright! The meaning is set, so now we need to decide what kind of Baby suits you!"
"Do I really have to do that?"
"Don’t be so obvious!"
Watching Hatsume insist on practically forcing an item onto him, Kirishima shook his head in exasperation.
What was he supposed to do when he didn’t really need anything extra?
"Pants aside—you're not going to strut around in just your underwear, are you? Or do you plan to go completely naked?"
"Don’t be gross. I’d lose my license before I even got the chance to be a hero."
"Exactly. The pants could use a unique flair, but that’s a design issue we can skip for now. Eijiro, you’re saying you don’t need any extra combat power, right?"
"Yeah. I’m more than capable on my own in a fight."
"Then what about communication or reconnaissance equipment?"
"Huh?"
Kirishima felt as if he’d been struck on the head by her suggestion.
He’d never thought of himself as foolish, but this time he really had dropped the ball.
After all, in the NFL he’d followed in his previous life, the bench and the field—separated by mere dozens of meters—communicated over radios.
In a battle where lives were on the line, effective communication was essential.
And with the limits of signal range, reconnaissance capability was just as necessary.
He couldn’t fathom why it hadn’t occurred to him sooner.
"Right. Even if big bro’s hearing is exceptional, there's only so much one can do. On a chaotic battlefield, the speaker has to shout, and even then you might miss parts of it."
"True. I never thought of that."
"Heh. Looks like big bro was a martial arts dummy too."
"That’s not it..."
Though Kirishima considered himself an ordinary guy in many respects, he firmly rejected Tetsuya’s jab.
His talent was far from ordinary, and his penchant for battling foes wasn’t common, but he didn’t see that as a flaw.
When it came to martial arts, anyone with clear objectives would naturally push themselves this far.
Yet Tetsuya seemed to have a different perspective.
"Come on. A person who spends their vacation traveling the country to learn martial arts isn’t exactly normal."
"Mm. When you put it that way, I can’t argue with you..."
"Enough small talk! The important thing is, Eijiro, you need Baby’s help too!"
"I do think I might need some kind of item, but listening to you go on about Baby this and Baby that makes me want to live without one."
"That won’t do! If you’re aiming to be a Pro Hero, you must strive for reason and efficiency."
"That’s true as well, but..."
"Alright, then. Since you need either communication or reconnaissance gear, what do you think would work best?"
Hatsume quickly launched into a discussion with Tetsuya about the ideal design for the equipment.
What began as a simple bone-conduction headset had somehow morphed into the idea of a crown.
"So, how about a thorn crown? I am your savior! Isn’t that cool?"
"Why a crown, though?"
"Because you’re a Champion! What’s fit for the best should obviously be a crown."
"What does being the best have to do with a crown? Why not make a proper laurel instead?"
"Big bro, a laurel would be way too uncomfortable. A crown is just right in many ways."
Usually, Kirishima was in control of any conversation, but these two were formidable opponents.
Immersed in their own world, they twisted his words into their own logic every time, leaving him no room to win the argument.
They weren’t bad people by any means, but talking with them was exhaustingly surreal.
At that moment, an alarm rang out to recall Kirishima.
It was the signal he’d set to ensure he got Tetsuya home in time for dinner.
Grateful to his past self for setting aside enough time, Kirishima announced, "Hmm. It’s already time to go. Let’s pick this up another time. We have dinner to catch. If your place is far, should I see you home? I purposely scheduled plenty of time."
"Our place isn’t far either. A ten-minute walk will do. And next time, I’m definitely making a crown for you, Eijiro—so you have to try it on, okay?"
"Ugh. That crown again. Fine. If you make it, I’ll at least give it a try. Now let’s go. We’re not staying here, right?"
"Yep. As much as I’d love to keep chatting, we’ve got to get back and create more Baby!"
"Heh. See you tomorrow, big bro? I’ve got plenty of time."
"No. That’s all our free time for this week. From tomorrow, I’ve got to get back to making more Babies."
"But we’ll meet again, won’t we?"
"You’re a talented prospect—so maybe. And you’ll see me again partly because of that crown anyway."
"I’m starting to get scared; could you seriously stop with the crown talk?"
After finally corralling Hatsume and Tetsuya—still animatedly discussing the crown—out of the café, Kirishima bid them farewell.
"It was nice meeting you both. Let’s catch up again if the chance arises, though who knows when that might be."
"You already swapped phone numbers and now are talking as if we might bump into each other by chance? I’ll get in touch when the crown is ready, so don’t run off!"
"Sigh. Alright. Let’s go. Take care."
"Goodbye, big bro! See you again!"
Finally freed from their world, Kirishima left the café with Tetsuya.
Listening to the excited chatter of the boy as they walked, the mansion soon came into view.
Kirishima ushered him inside and said, "Hold on. I think I left something at the café."
"Huh? What did you leave?"
"I must have left my card after paying. I’ll be right back."
"Man, big bro, you can be surprisingly careless. Alright—hurry back!"
After Tetsuya went inside, Kirishima’s face hardened.
Without hesitation, he turned and retraced his steps.
After taking one step, then another, Kirishima suddenly sprang forward, almost as if he had kicked off the ground.
Leaving only a faint afterimage behind, he headed toward a large man clad in a Hawaiian shirt, mask, and sporting a close-cropped haircut.
"Hey."
"Hm? And who might you be?"
Uncharacteristically rude, Kirishima barked at him.
The man smiled in confusion and asked,
"Who are you?"
Hearing this, Kirishima was momentarily dumbfounded.
Lately, whenever he stepped outside, he naturally broadened his awareness.
This was the same man whose presence had been flagged when he left with Tetsuya.
At the time, Kirishima had merely thought it odd to see a rare Japanese-style mansion in the middle of the city.
But now, as he returned home, the man still stood in the same spot, in the same posture, fixated on the mansion.
"Who are you? Is that really all you’ve got? What kind of guy has been staring at that building for over two hours? Are you on watch or something?"
At Kirishima’s accusation, the man’s expression shifted dramatically.
The corners of his once-smiling eyes lifted, and his three white irises gleamed menacingly.
In a voice that grated like metal on stone, he replied, "You’re a sharp little kid. But that’s exactly what I want to know. Kid, who are you? Why are you coming out of there? What’s your connection with the old man?"
"Why do you care? Spare me the nonsense and just tell me why you’re watching the mansion."
"You’ve got guts and your body’s in fine shape. Kid, if you keep acting all high and mighty, you’ll end up seriously hurt one day. Looks like you learned a thing or two from the old man—now answer me and scram."
Staring into his eyes, Kirishima furrowed his brow.
He could sense an aura emanating from someone who had crossed an irreversible line.
People who had taken lives exuded a distinctly alien presence.
It was like the scent of a predator stalking its prey.
Once, that smell was familiar to him; now, it was rare and unsettling.
With a cold glare, Kirishima bared his teeth and responded, "Words won’t cut it, then."
Without hesitation, he reached out to seize the man by the collar.
Astonishingly, Kirishima’s hand met only empty air.
The man had already stepped back two paces.
Though Kirishima hadn’t given it his all, the man’s evasive move was more than an ordinary reaction.
Deep down, Kirishima was convinced that this man was no ordinary person.
The man grinned, baring his teeth.
"Hmph. Not bad. But kid, I’m just an ordinary citizen right now. Is it really okay for you to get physical like that? It won’t look good—and the old man wouldn’t approve. I know exactly how these things work."
"An ordinary citizen? Nowadays, even ordinary people can hardly dodge an attack from a Villain!"
"Ha ha. Strength and weakness aren’t what determine if you’re a citizen."
"Tch."
Seeing that the man showed no reluctance to let his guard down, Kirishima pulled his fist back for now.
The man took a few steps back and said, "Kid, I don’t know what your connection to the old man is, but judging by your movements, you must be his disciple, right? Go on—tell the old man that Takeru has returned. He’ll understand. The circumstances and location aren’t favorable, so I’ll handle you separately later. Until then, learn all you can, disciple."
"Huh?"
With that, the man darted away—leaping onto the roof of a nearby house before vanishing in an instant.
Kirishima was left baffled by the man’s words, but the situation was too precarious to pursue him into another brawl in the middle of the city.
They had only just clashed with a Villain, and starting another fight now would bring unwelcome attention.
If the man had come charging with lethal intent, that would be one thing—but now, taking the initiative could lead to severe social repercussions.
Kirishima clicked his tongue and turned back toward the mansion.
It had been a dinner with an undeniably bitter aftertaste.
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