The face of justice looks different to everyone.
That's why, even when people see and hear the same thing, they can come to completely different conclusions.
Each follows the version of justice they believe in.
Some of these interpretations are extreme and warped—far removed from what we call the common good.
The problem is that even such perverse notions of justice can become an attractive creed for one person, or merely a pretty wrapper concealing raw greed for another.
Kirishima glared coldly at Stain as he advanced, step by step, radiating an intensity that was almost terrifying.
Even though there were other heroes around, Kirishima had hesitated—feeling it a bit presumptuous for someone not even a full intern to step in. Still, that incessant mouth needed to be shut.
Just as tension surged in his calves and his toes dug hard into the ground, the man dropped the knife he was holding.
Clang
The metallic sound snapped everyone out of their stupor, as if they’d been roused from a trance.
Kirishima frowned.
The man had collapsed, rendered unconscious on the spot.
"He's a crackpot, but his obsession is downright repulsive," he muttered.
Only then did people begin to move again.
Rumi walked over and patted Kirishima on the shoulder.
"How did things go on your end? You handled it well?"
"Yes. I took down two of them. I subdued one and completely obliterated the other’s head—but then I got a signal that this kid was in danger."
Kirishima shifted his gaze toward Iida.
The boy, still drenched in cold sweat and not yet recovered from the madness unleashed by Stain, was only just rising from a half-kneeling position.
"I had someone else handle the cleanup afterwards. And Mirko? Was she all right?"
"Of course she was! Someone went over there, didn’t they? Naturally, she was fine. But why are you calling me Mirko again all of a sudden?"
"Huh? We're out here with a lot of people watching."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Um... was it okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine. We're close enough that if we call each other by name, who’s going to say anything? And if someone dares, send them my way—I’ll deal with them!"
"Uh, no—if anyone needs a beating, I'll take care of it. Anyway, let's just stick to using names."
"Exactly! Why complicate things by worrying about whether people are around or not? Living like that sounds exhausting."
She said this while watching the team carefully move Stain away.
"For now, let's head back to Musashino. The people here are probably disoriented too. I suspect we’ll have to come back tomorrow to get a full account of what happened. Ugh, what a hassle."
"It can’t be helped. I thought my work experience would pass quietly, but somehow, trouble always finds me."
"Really? Come to think of it, you're still so young—how is it that you keep getting caught up in these incidents? If I stuck around you, would I be in a constant state of chaos too?"
"No, not at all."
Kirishima protested with a sheepish expression.
Reflecting for a moment, he realized there had indeed been more incidents in his life than he had expected—just as Rumi had joked.
At five. At fifteen. USJ. And now today.
There would undoubtedly be many more to come.
After all, Midoriya was the protagonist, after all.
Shaking off the thought, he said, "Then, let's go. Part of me wants to stick around to see the others get treated, but it's late and everyone's exhausted..."
Kirishima’s eyes drifted to Midoriya, who was receiving a stern talking-to from Gran Torino.
Rumi nodded and went over to Endeavor and the other heroes to explain the situation.
After exchanging farewells with everyone, the two of them returned to Musashino.
After scrubbing away the grime of battle and winding down a long day, Kirishima sent a message to the kids on his phone.
"You all okay? Nothing too serious?"
"Yeah. Just a strain on my ankle. Todoroki isn’t badly hurt either, and Iida took the worst hit—but they said there's nothing to worry about."
Kirishima chuckled at Midoriya’s surprisingly prompt reply.
"Then for today, try not to think about anything else. Rest up—after all, you got hurt, so recuperation is key."
"My doctor said the same thing. Got it."
"Alright. I should probably hit the sack too."
Finishing his brief conversation with Midoriya, Kirishima lay down on his bed and closed his eyes.
As he replayed the day’s battle in his mind, his consciousness slowly ebbed away until he finally fell asleep.
The next morning, as he got up, washed up, and changed, his phone rang insistently. Picking it up, he frowned when he saw the caller ID: Mom.
Since his mother never called this early, he tilted his head in confusion before answering.
"Hello? Good morning."
"Eiji-chan! Good morning—and not so good either—were you in Hosu City yesterday?"
"Huh? How did you know? Has a news article already been posted?"
"Not an article— I saw it on the morning news!"
"News? Why would they show me in the news?"
"Don't ask your mother that! After all the chaos you caused in Hosu City, you better believe I had to see it!"
"Well, it was chaotic... but to be clear, I was just carrying out official duties yesterday."
"Honestly, you should've called and told me. Try to understand how it feels to wake up and see your son on the news!"
"I'm sorry. I didn’t expect such an immediate reaction. I was going to explain today, but now it’s all out in the open."
"It’s alright. There'll be more of these kinds of days in the future, so you'll both get used to it. Just remember—this was a surprise because it's the first time."
"Yes. Thank you. Though I can’t promise there won’t be more incidents, I’ll do my best to stay safe and handle things properly."
"That’s my Eiji-chan, always doing well ever since you were little. I believe in you. Now, have you had breakfast yet?"
"No, I was just about to eat."
"Really? Alright then. Eat quickly and muster up your strength for a safe day ahead!"
"Yes. I'll call you later."
After ending the call with his mom, Kirishima clicked his tongue and opened his browser.
There were already an overwhelming number of articles online.
He clicked on the article with the highest view count.
The piece featured a morning news video alongside a transcript of the report.
In the video, the same seasoned anchor he’d watched numerous times at home with his parents appeared, speaking clearly:
"Last night, Hosu City was engulfed in flames. Around 7:10 p.m., brain-exposed monsters—appearing suddenly—attacked civilians without any demands. The chaotic scene only ended thanks to the brave efforts of several heroes. Please, take a look at the footage."
With that introduction, the screen shifted to what appeared to be CCTV footage.
In it, a rampaging [Nomu]—threatening both heroes and civilians—was shown being crushed under Kirishima's weight as he leapt down from the sky.
The video then cut to a seamless sequence of Kirishima battling a black [Nomu], edited so cleverly it appeared as one continuous, dramatic fight.
Anyone who hadn’t experienced the ordeal firsthand might have been deceived.
Even though the footage was a bit blurred, it clearly showed Kirishima’s rapid strikes piercing the [Nomu] without a hint of hesitation.
Fortunately, the video spared viewers the moment the [Nomu]'s head was smashed—yet Kirishima sensed that someone had intervened.
The footage continued, showing Endeavor and Mirko in action as well.
But by far, everyone considered Kirishima the star of the show.
He frowned and scrolled through the massive flood of comments.
"Whoa, isn’t that that U.A. kid?"
"When you say 'that U.A. kid,' who else do you mean? He won the sports festival—Kirishima Eijiro."
"Could you say it in a way people understand? Seriously, why the cryptic comments?"
"I first saw him at the sports festival. I knew he was incredibly strong, but to see him take that thing down like that? Looks like even the pros had a hard time."
"Maybe he just had an advantage? The hero he was up against might have been outmatched.";
"You didn't see the sports festival? He's just insanely strong—it's not about compatibility. He moves as swiftly and powerfully as if he's catching mice."
"Holy crap, sixteen years old? Isn't he even stronger than Hawks was in high school?"
"I get that he's strong, but why is a student catching monsters? Is that really allowed?"
"U.A. students are usually on work experience around this time. He was probably there for that."
"I live in Musashino—I even saw him with Mirko here. I knew he was impressive, but the height difference between them was something else. I even got his autograph!"
"Still, why is a student fighting monsters? Shouldn’t there be rules?"
"Normally, yes—but he’s got special permission, it seems."
"Really? Then how do you know so much? Are you from U.A.?"
"No comment."
Overall, the reactions ranged from amazement and curiosity to concerns over whether proper procedures were followed.
Kirishima sighed.
From his long experience, he knew this episode was bound to become a recurring headache.
He could guess why the footage was edited to make him the central figure—but that revelation was far from welcome.
Even if he was destined to face situations like this in the future, while he was still a student he had wished for a quieter life. That, it seemed, was an impossible dream.
Shaking off his disquiet with a click of his tongue, Kirishima changed clothes and left his room.
At that moment, Rumi stepped out the door and caught his eye.
"Hey! Superstar! Sleep well?"
Her knowing glance said it all.
Kirishima sighed and replied, "Superstar? Please, it's going to be a pain."
"Hahaha. Of course you're a superstar—now everyone will recognize you!"
She playfully thumped his back as she laughed.
With a half-hearted grin, he retorted, "That's exactly what bothers me."
"What, you don't mind the attention? Great! Now, let's grab breakfast!"
The two headed to the restaurant where the hotel served its reliably excellent breakfast.
While the other meals were good, breakfast always brought the utmost satisfaction.
They each piled their plates with their favorite dishes and began chatting amiably as they ate.
After sampling a spoonful of soup, Rumi challenged, "You did pretty well overall—but did you really have to crush the black one?"
"Huh? The one with no eyes?"
"Yeah. The station guys sent me the footage, asking if they could air it since I'm your supervisor. I took a look first—and you obliterated that bastard’s head!"
"It had regenerative abilities, you know. Breaking its arms and legs wouldn't have been enough to subdue it. And I couldn't exactly dismember it and torch the pieces, so I decided the best course was just to eliminate it."
"Really? Well, if that's what you think, then so be it. You weren't simply overexcited and out of control, were you?"
"No. I stayed composed the whole time."
"Hmm. Fair enough—you’re more level-headed than you look. Anyway, I told them to cut the moment when its head exploded. Showing that would only tarnish your image unnecessarily."
"Ah, thanks. Honestly, most people would be traumatized by that kind of scene."
"Haha, no need to thank me. If you want to send thanks, direct them to management—they seem to be your biggest fans these days."
"Management?"
When Kirishima asked, Mirko jabbed at a piece of carrot in her salad, popped it into her mouth, and said between chews, "Yeah. No matter how amazing I am, how could I possibly coordinate local hero patrol schedules everywhere I go? The management company takes care of everything non-combat—paperwork, coordination, legalities, you name it."
"I see. That would be pretty convenient."
"Right? Thanks to them, I can just focus on fighting without worrying about the rest. Besides, there's going to be a press conference in that area this afternoon. What are you planning to do? If you're worried about saying something off, you can skip it. Even though you're amazing, you're still only fifteen."
Kirishima appreciated Mirko’s thoughtfulness as he replied, "Thanks for looking out for me. But I think I should go. Even if my age might spare me from heavy criticism, if I don’t show up when these things happen, people will just have something to pick on."
"Oh, you really know your stuff, huh? There are always people ready to nitpick. But don't force yourself into something you despise—I'm pretty strong, you know!"
"I prefer to handle matters related to me directly. With everyone debating whether a student like me should be fighting on account of my age and status, I want to clear that up decisively."
"You mean to say you'll mention that I gave you the go-ahead?"
"Haha, yes—I should be upfront about that. Honestly, I don't regret fighting, though I do feel sorry that it might cause you extra hassle."
"Don't worry about that kind of nonsense. If you had held back and not fought, you'd have had plenty to apologize for. Besides, if you were that way, I wouldn’t have chosen you in the first place!"
She said this, her voice edgy yet playful as she continued eating.
The food was delicious as always, and the two managed to fill up enough to brace themselves for the tiring day ahead.
After breakfast, Kirishima rode with Rumi to buy a suit for the press conference.
He had assumed Rumi would need one too, but management had already arranged for someone to get her outfit, so she didn't have to.
Seeing Kirishima’s envy at her convenience, Rumi laughed and teased, "Jealous? Want to join our management too?"
"I am a little envious—but I'll think about it."
Clad in his new suit, Kirishima then stopped by the hospital where his friends had been admitted.
After a brief chat with the kids, and once visiting hours were over, he left and headed to the press conference with Rumi.
While waiting in the reception area, he exchanged a nod with Endeavor and the gruff, dog-faced chief of Hosu Police before joining the others in the conference room.
The reporters’ eyes and cameras silently bombarded him from every angle.
Kirishima sat in his designated seat and waited for the moderator to begin.
Soon enough, the moderator's opening remarks signaled the start of the press conference, and questions began flying.
"According to yesterday’s video, Kirishima Eijiro-kun was actively involved right from the start. Weren’t you afraid?"
The round-faced reporter’s question was predictable, yet it guaranteed attention.
Kirishima answered calmly, "I wasn’t afraid of the fight. When Mirko and I, while on patrol, got separated and I raced to the site of the explosion, I only hoped I’d arrive in time. If I felt any fear at all, it wasn’t the fear of combat—it was the fear of not being able to save someone within my reach."
The reporters' eyes lit up in admiration at his composed answer.
No one had expected such a well-articulated response from him.
He wasn’t extremely experienced, and these seasoned reporters knew better than to expect a teenager, still reeling from yesterday's ordeal, to answer so fluently.
Most were prepared to settle for an awkward but sincere reply and then spin it into a decent story.
But Kirishima expressed himself with clarity and determination.
After that question, several reporters raised their hands.
One of them—a tall man with a friendly demeanor—was selected to ask his question.
With a gentle smile, he said, "I'm Yoshimura Kazuma from Hamura Newspaper. Some argue that, despite Kirishima Eijiro-kun's strength, his actions in yesterday's combat were inappropriate given that he is a student. Others question the ethics of deploying such a young individual in a fight. What is your take on this?"
Malice briefly flashed across the room.
The sharply incisive question froze the atmosphere.
Kirishima fixed his gaze on the reporter.
The man, smiling benignly like a Buddha while posing a devilish question, met his look in return.
A heavy silence fell over the room, as if wings of quiet had enveloped everyone.
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