MHA: I'm the Reality Warping 'Hero X', but I'd Rather Have a 9-5 Job Chapter 99 - 98: A Controlled Burn

Location: Musutafu – Industrial District

Date: One and a Half Weeks later | 10:05 AM

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The "Burn-Data" app notification went off simultaneously on thirty different hip-mounted units.

"Here we go," Kido said, adjusting his tactical goggles.

He was leaning against the side of a patrol car, checking the tension on his bandages.

"Comrcial ward. First National. High-pressure gas leak."

"About damn ti," Burnin' shouted. She was sitting on the hood of the car, her green hair flickering with impatient sparks.

Tap-tap.

She didn't wait for a briefing from the agency. She tapped the icon on her screen to see the heat-map of the building.

"It's already at three hundred degrees in the lobby. If we wait for the Boss to wake up, the vault will be a puddle."

VROOOOM.

The three patrol cars peeled out.

They weren't the old, heavy armored vans Endeavor used to favor.

These were lighter, faster, and painted in the new high-visibility white and blue.

Burnin' was already barking into her comms-mic as they skidded around a corner.

"Onima, you're on periter. Don't let the rubberneckers get within fifty yards. Uma Uma, you and the Coolant Unit are the first ones in the door. I don't want to see a single fla touching the ceiling. You hear ?"

"Got it, Kamiji-san," Uma Uma's deep, horse-like voice rumbled over the channel. "Thermal Sinks are ready. Just keep the exit clear."

SCREEECH.

The cars stopped in front of the bank.

Smoke was thick and black, pouring out of the shattered lobby doors.

Inside, a villain was standing on a teller desk, his body leaking a yellow, shimring gas.

Every ti he snapped his fingers, the air exploded.

"I'm the king of this block!" the villain scread.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Uma Uma and two other sidekicks stepped into the lobby.

They didn't draw weapons. They didn't even look at the villain.

They moved in a triangle formation, their skin beginning to glow with a dull, bronze light.

Swooop.

The air in the room didn't just cool down—it felt like the heat was being sucked into a void.

The flas licking the curtains suddenly bent toward the three sidekicks.

The villain snapped his fingers, but the explosion was small, weak, and fizzled out before it could reach the walls.

"What... what is this?!" the villain yelled, looking at his hands. "Why won't it spark?!"

"Because you're in a Thermal Sink, villain," Uma Uma grunted.

"What the hell are you talking about!?"

His ears twitched as he absorbed the energy, his muscles bulging under the strain. "And you're wasting your breath."

WHIISH.

Kido lunged from behind a pillar. He didn't use his bandages to tie the villain up.

He threw them wide, spinning his arms like a windmill.

SWOOSH. WHOOSH.

The Thermal Spiral Kaito had described during the Tuesday training worked exactly as intended.

The spinning bandages acted like a massive exhaust fan.

The thick, toxic smoke in the lobby was caught in the vacuum and hauled toward the broken skylight.

"Rescue Team, move!" Kido yelled over the sound of the rushing air. "The floor is clear! Get the civilians out of the vault!"

The logistics sidekicks moved with chanical precision.

They didn't shout at the people; they just grabbed them and hauled them toward the "Cool Zone" Uma Uma was maintaining.

Burnin' dropped through the skylight, catching the updraft Kido was creating to slow her fall. She landed right in front of the villain.

"You're making a ss of my morning," Burnin' said.

SWFFT.

She reach out her hair and snapped her fingers.

A tiny, razor-thin line of green fire appeared an inch from the villain's nose. It didn't burn him. It just humd.

SFFFFT.

In five seconds, the Ignition Interval consud every molecule of oxygen in the villain's imdiate space.

"UGH!"

HUFF-PUFF.

His eyes went wide. He clutched at his chest, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

THUMP.

He hit the floor, out cold.

Burnin' blew a strand of hair out of her face and checked her watch. She tapped her unit to close the incident report.

"Kido, check the structural heat. I don't want any hidden embers," Burnin' ordered.

"Already on it," Kido replied, walking over with a thermal scanner. "Wait... look at this. Property damage is basically non-existent. The teller desk is slightly singed, but the floor is fine."

"The Boss is gonna be pissed he missed the fight," Onima said, walking in from the periter.

He looked around the lobby and laughed. "I've been in this agency eight years. Usually, by the ti we're done, the fire departnt is still here two days later trying to save the building next door."

"That's because we aren't reckless anymore," Burnin' said.

She looked at her tablet. "Three minutes and eleven seconds. That's a new record for this ward. Arisaka is going to have a field day with these stats."

"Is he still in his office?" Uma Uma asked, his skin finally returning to its normal color as he vented the stored heat into the building's ventilation system.

"Yes," Kido said. "But Haruka is monitoring the app from the agency. She already sent the Cleanup crew. They'll be here in five minutes to secure the glass."

"Good," Burnin' said, heading for the door. "Let's get the transport moving. We've got a hazard report on a faulty transforr three blocks over. If we fix it now, we don't have to fight a fire later."

The sidekicks loaded the villain into the back of a white-and-blue van.

They didn't wait for the reporters who were just arriving with their caras.

They didn't give interviews. They just got back in their cars and moved to the next green dot on their map.

The crowd on the sidewalk didn't look scared. They were pointing at the app on their phones, watching the red "Danger" icon over the bank turn into a green "Secure" checkmark in real-ti.

"That was... fast," a civilian muttered, holding his phone.

"They didn't even break the street" another Older man chid.

"Wow they're getting better and better"

"Yes, no more property damage"

"The app they released, really do wonders"

"But didn't you notice the viral article about Endeavor"

"Yes, it's the first ti I saw a biography of a hero"

_-_-_-_-_

Location: Endeavor Agency – Logistics Floor

Ti: 10:45 AM

CLICK. CLACK. CLICK.

The sound of chanical keyboards filled the room.

Usually, the logistics floor of the Endeavor Agency was a place where people ca to scream.

It was a war zone of insurance adjusters, angry city officials, and lawsuits for lted property.

Today, the air was cool.

The air conditioning was actually working at a steady, quiet hum because the Boss wasn't upstairs venting heat through the floorboards.

Haruka stood in front of the wall-sized monitor. She was the head of the office team, and for years, her job had been to hide the bills. Now, she was staring at the "Burn-Data" heat map.

BEEP.

A green dot pulsed in the comrcial ward.

"Bank incident is officially closed out in the system," an assistant nad Takuya called out.

He was leaning back in his chair, a cup of lukewarm tea in his hand. "Uma Uma just uploaded the final thermal scan. Property damage is zero. The bank manager actually signed the digital waiver without complaining. He even asked if the sidekicks wanted a voucher for the cafe next door."

Haruka rubbed her eyes. She felt a phantom weight missing from her shoulders.

"Check the email from the municipal board again," Haruka said. "The one that ca in at ten."

CLICK.

Takuya pulled it up on the big screen.

[To: Endeavor Agency Logistics

Subject: Official Comndation – Sector 4 Response

The City Council would like to express its gratitude for the zero-damage resolution at the bank. No asphalt repairs are required. We are adjusting the quarterly tax-levy for hero-related damages accordingly.]

"That's the fourth one this week," Takuya said, shaking his head. "Four 'Thank You' notes in seven days. I've been here since the Tokyo branch opened, Haruka-san. I've never seen the city council say anything to us that didn't involve a fine."

"It's the app," Haruka said.

She pointed at a cluster of yellow dots on the map. "The golden manager didn't just give the sidekicks new moves. He gave us a way to prove we aren't the problem. Look at Team 3. Why are they stationary in the warehouse district? There wasn't an alarm."

TAP. TAP.

Takuya opened the live patrol log.

"They're two minutes behind their sweep," Takuya reported. "But look at the photo they just uploaded. There was a massive pile of dry trash and oily rags sitting right against a chemical plant's venting pipe. High ignition risk. Team 3 stayed on-site to clear it and wait for the municipal truck."

"They're picking up trash?" a woman at the next desk asked, looking over her shoulder.

"They're preventing a Grade 4 explosion," Haruka corrected. She felt a strange sense of pride. "If that trash ignites, the Boss has to co out. If the Boss cos out, the plant burns, the street lts, and I have to spend a month in court. Arisaka-san js right. This isn't 'office talk.' It's maintenance."

Haruka looked down at her desk.

THUD.

She dropped a tablet onto the empty surface.

For a decade, this desk had been buried under physical folders—lawsuits, damage photos, and disciplinary files for sidekicks who got too reckless.

Now, the surface was clean. No folders. No overdue bills. No red ink.

Kaito had rerouted the agency's blood. He had taken the energy that used to go into fighting fires and put it into stopping them before they started.

He had turned the most aggressive heroes in Japan into the country's most reliable foundation.

"I'm actually going to get to go ho at five today," a girl from the accounting departnt whispered. "I don't rember the last ti I saw the sun set from outside this building."

"Don't get used to it yet," Haruka said, though she was smiling. "We still have the Tuesday audit data to process for Kaito by noon. He wants the exact fuel-to-output ratios for the new cooling gear. Move."

CLICK. CLACK. CLICK.

The keyboards started up again, but the rhythm was different. It wasn't frantic. It was the sound of a team that finally knew what they were working for.

Haruka looked back at the map. Musutafu was turning green, one block at a ti. The Number 3 hero was finally becoming the 'Relentless Shield' Kaito had promised.

_-_-_-_-_-_

Location: Musutafu – University Campus

Date: 3 Days Ago (Sunday)

CHATTER.

The sound of hundreds of students leaving for the weekend filled the air.

Fuyumi Todoroki adjusted the strap of her bag, her mind already at the grocery store.

She needed to buy ginger and green onions.

'I should make sothing soft tonight,' she thought. 'Sothing that doesn't take too much ti to chew. Maybe that'll keep the mood light.'

TAP. TAP. TAP.

A woman in a sharp, navy-blue suit stepped into her path near the gate.

She had blue skin and short, stylish hair. She looked like a professional who didn't waste a second of her day.

"Fuyumi Todoroki-san?" the woman asked.

Fuyumi stopped.

She gripped her textbooks a little tighter. "Yes? Who are you?"

"I'm Chitose Kizuki," the woman said. She didn't reach for a handshake.

She just held up a thin tablet. "I'm the Executive Director at Shoowaysha. I wanted to talk to you about a project we're launching."

Fuyumi recognized the na. Shoowaysha was huge. "A project? Does this have to do with my father's agency? He usually handles those things through his PR team."

"Actually, this is about the man, not the agency," Chitose said.

She turned the tablet around.

On the screen was an article of a digital cover. It was a photo of Endeavor from a distance, looking at the city.

The title read: The Relentless Shield: The Man Behind the Fla.

"It's an unauthorized biography," Chitose continued. Her voice was steady. "Legally, we don't need his permission to write it. But I'm not looking for a scandal. I'm looking for the human side. The side the public never gets to see. And besides we decided to release this article tonight."

Fuyumi felt a cold prickle at the back of her neck. "My father is very private. He doesn't like people looking into our lives."

"I noticed," Chitose said. She looked at Fuyumi, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I've been a journalist for a long ti, Fuyumi-san. Usually, when a hero is this famous, there are hundreds of photos of their family. Birthdays, dinners, graduations. But with your family... there is almost nothing. It's like there's a massive gap where your lives should be. It gives a feeling that there's a lot of things the world doesn't know."

Fuyumi looked away, her heart starting to race. "We just value our privacy. And if you released this article, It will probably affect our life."

"Of course," Chitose said. She stepped a bit closer, her tone becoming softer. "But the public is starting to find that privacy... scary. They see soone that burns things. They don't see a father. If we do this project, people will stop being afraid of him. They'll see he's just a man trying to be part of a ho. Don't you think having a cara crew there might actually... make things easier? He'd have to be on his best behavior, wouldn't he?"

Fuyumi looked back at the tablet.

She saw a comnt on a hero forum calling her father a "human furnace." It hurt to read. She looked at Chitose.

The woman didn't know the truth about the house, but she was right about one thing: the caras would act like a shield. If people were watching, her father couldn't get angry. He couldn't shout.

It might be the only way to have a dinner that didn't end in silence.

"What exactly are you asking for?" Fuyumi asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"One evening," Chitose said. "A family dinner. An honest look at the Todoroki household. We won't just write it; we'll film a segnt. We show Japan that the Number Three hero is a family man. And besides we'll also contact Endeavor Agency after this article goes viral."

"...."

Fuyumi bit her lip.

She thought about Natsuo's anger and Shoto's blank eyes. She thought about the weight of the last ten years.

"I... I have to talk to my brother," Fuyumi said.

"I'll be waiting for your call," Chitose replied. She handed Fuyumi a business card. "Think about it, Fuyumi-san. This could be the start of sothing better for all of you. If you don't agree, then it's still ok."

CLICK.

Chitose turned and walked away toward a black sedan.

Fuyumi stood by the gate, looking at the card in her hand.

Her mind was already spinning.

_-_-_-_-_-_

Location: The Todoroki Estate

Date: Sunday Night

SLIDE.

Fuyumi pushed the heavy front door shut. The wood groaned in the quiet entryway.

The house was cold, but for the first ti in years, the air didn't feel like it was vibrating with a hidden fever.

She stood there in the dark for a second, her fingers tracing the sharp edges of the business card in her coat pocket.

'The Relentless Shield,' she thought. 'The man behind the fla.'

CLICK.

She turned on the hallway light.

She walked toward the kitchen, her mind still replaying the way Chitose Kizuki had looked at her—like she already knew exactly what was rotting inside these walls.

GLUG. GLUG. GLUG.

The sound of water hitting glass ca from the kitchen.

Natsuo was standing by the sink, his back to her. He was wearing a baggy sweatshirt, his hair a ss like he'd been face-down in a textbook for hours.

"You're late, sister" Natsuo said. He took a long drink, his throat moving as he swallowed, before setting the glass down. "Did the university library stay open late or did you just get lost?"

CLACK.

Fuyumi set her bag on the counter.

She hesitated, her hand hovering over her pocket, before she pulled the card out and set it right next to the fruit bowl.

"I t soone at the university gate," Fuyumi said. Her voice was thin, barely a whisper.

Natsuo leaned over, squinting at the card. He saw the Shoowaysha logo.

"Chitose Kizuki? Shoowaysha?" Natsuo's face twisted into a scowl. "Why is a big-shot publisher talking to a teaching student? Is he finally getting sued for sothing?"

"They're releasing a biography about Father, Natsuo," Fuyumi said.

She started pulling her empty lunch containers out of her bag, her hands moving like she was on autopilot. "An unauthorized one. They told it's going live on their digital front tonight."

Natsuo's posture went rigid.

His eyes narrowed to slits. "So? Good. Let them drag him. I'll give them a list of chapters if they want to know what a monster he is."

"It's not a hit piece," Fuyumi said, turning to face him.

Her heart was thumping against her ribs. "The title is The Relentless Shield. She wants to show his 'human' side. She wants to show that he's trying to be a father. She offered us a deal, Natsuo. If we host a dinner, a fild segnt for their site, they'll fra the whole story as a family moving forward. They'll show that he's actually changing."

"Changing?" Natsuo let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "That monster hasn't changed. He's just losing his rank to Best Jeanist, so he's buying a new face. And you're handing him the mask?"

"Natsuo, look at this house!" Fuyumi's voice cracked, her eyes getting glassy.

She pointed toward the hallway. "The Golden Manager has been at the agency for weeks. The shouting has stopped. The heat in these hallways is gone. Father is actually listening to a manager. For the first ti, he isn't just a volcano. This is our chance."

"A chance for what? A fake dinner with caras?"

"A chance for a dinner where he can't explode!" Fuyumi yelled.

Creak.

She gripped the edge of the tile counter so hard her knuckles turned white. "Chitose said it herself. If there are caras in the room, he has to act like a person. He has to sit there and listen. It's a shield, Natsuo! For one night, we can have a al without feeling like the walls are going to lt or the floor is going to shatter. Don't you want that? Just once?"

SLIID.

The sliding door at the end of the hall moved.

Shoto stood there.

His face was damp with sweat, steam literally rising from his shoulders.

He'd been in the training room, pushed to his limit, and he'd clearly heard the shouting through the walls.

"Who is coming here?" Shoto asked. His voice was flat, but he was staring at the card on the counter.

Natsuo looked at his younger brother.

He saw the exhaustion in Shoto's eyes, the sa blank look he'd had since he was five.

Natsuo's anger didn't go away, but it shifted. He saw that Fuyumi wasn't trying to help their father—she was trying to use the dia as a weapon to force a ceasefire.

"A cara crew, Shoto," Natsuo said, his voice dropping an octave. "Fuyumi wants us to play 'happy family' so the internet thinks the Number Three hero has a heart."

Shoto walked into the kitchen. He picked up the card, looked at the logo, and set it back down.

"If the caras are here, does the training stop for the night?" Shoto asked.

Fuyumi nodded quickly, her breath hitching. "Yes. Chitose said everything has to look normal. No training, no shouting. Just a family dinner."

"Then I'll do it," Shoto said. He turned around and headed toward the bathroom to wash off the sweat. "I don't care about the magazine."

DRIP. DRIP.

The kitchen faucet leaked into the sink. The sound was deafening.

Natsuo stared at the card for a long ti. He hated the idea of helping Endeavor's PR.

He hated that they were being used as props for a ranking shift. But he looked at Fuyumi, who was waiting for his answer like her whole world would collapse if he said no.

"One night," Natsuo replied. He grabbed his glass and headed for the stairs. "I'm not doing it for him. And I'm not saying a single word to that blue-skinned lady. I'm just showing up so you don't have to be in the room with him alone."

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Natsuo's footsteps disappeared up the stairs, heavy and frustrated.

Fuyumi leaned her forehead against the cool, white surface of the refrigerator.

HUFF-PUFF.

She let out a long, shaky breath that felt like a sob.

She was terrified of what was coming, but for the first ti in years, the silence in the house didn't feel like a threat. It felt like a chance to breathe.

_-_-_-_-_-_

Location: Endeavor Agency – Conference Room

Date: Next Day | Thursday | 01:00 PM

BAM.

Endeavor's fist slamd into the mahogany conference table.

The heavy stone slab beneath the wood didn't break, but the pens and tablets at the far end jumped two inches into the air.

Three PR specialists were backed into the far corner, looking like they were facing a firing squad.

On the wall-sized monitor, the Shoowaysha digital article was displayed. It had been four days since the drop on Sunday night, and the internet was a ss of speculation.

#TodorokiSecret was trending number one.

"CEASE AND DESIST!" Endeavor roared.

"We... we can't sue them, sir! Their digital feature has been trending since the Sunday night drop." the PR lead stamred, his glasses fogging up from the rising heat. "Shoowaysha's legal team is ready for a fight. And the article isn't defamatory. It's positive! They're calling you a 'Relentless Shield.' If we file an injunction now, the public will think you're suppressing a positive story because you have sothing to hide. It'll look like an admission of guilt."

Endeavor's face was a mask of rigid, white-hot fury.

Fliickeer.

The orange flas on his shoulders were flickering violently, turning a dangerous, pale yellow.

"They are discussing my children on national broadcast," Endeavor hissed, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying register. "They are digging into my private life without a single word of my authorization. Find a way to stop this."

SIIIP.

The sound of a straw hitting the bottom of a plastic coffee cup cut through the tension.

Kaito Arisaka was sitting in the corner, leaning back in a rolling chair.

He had his feet propped up on an empty equipnt crate. He didn't look at the monitor.

He was just scrolling through a structural report on his tablet.

Endeavor's eyes snapped toward him.

Kaito was the man who had already fixed the sidekick rotations and saved the agency millions in property damage over the last week and a half.

"Arisaka," Endeavor said. "I know that I didn't hire you for solving this. Fix my PR ss and I'll add the money."

"...."

Kaito finally set his tablet on his lap. He looked at the PR team.

"GET OUT."

Endeavor didn't wait for them to argue. He pointed at the door.

The PR team bolted, the door clicking shut behind them in a second.

CLICK.

"...."

The room went quiet.

The only sound was the low, electric hiss of Endeavor's costu.

Kaito stood up and walked over to the table, ignoring the shimr of heat in the air.

"You're a smart man, Endeavor," Kaito said. "You didn't build this agency by being an idiot. So stop acting like one. You can't kill a story that the public already wants to believe."

Crick-crack.

"She is exposing my ho," Endeavor snarled. He felt insulted for a mont.

But.

"She is giving you a muzzle," Kaito corrected. "You want to be Number One. You've been chasing All Might's shadow for twenty years and you've never even touched it. Do you know why? It's not because you're weaker. It's because nobody likes you. You're a volcano that everyone is waiting to see erupt. This article is the first ti anyone has seen you as a person."

"...."

Endeavor flinching was barely visible, but the fire on his shoulders died down an inch.

"You should know, I contacted Captain Celebrity in the past," Kaito continued, pacing the length of the table. "He was a disaster when he arrived in Japan. A womanizer and a narcissist. But he beca the 'Symbol of Hope' and the public forgot he was a prick. If you fight this biography, the internet will dig until they find your personal life.They will destroy you."

Sssss.

Endeavor looked at his hands. The leather of his gloves was smoking.

"But if you open the door," Kaito said, his voice cold and logical. "If you sit at that table and act like a man who is trying to rebuild his family, you own the story. You beco the man who is 'trying his best.' Public loves a redemption arc. Your approval ratings will leapfrog Best Jeanist or even All Might."

"...."

Endeavor was quiet for a long ti. He looked at the screen.

He saw the "Relentless Shield" branding Chitose had created.

He saw the path to the top. He thought about the house—about Fuyumi and Natsuo.

"A book isn't enough," Endeavor said.

His voice was calm now. Calculating. He wasn't a hero in this mont; he was an executive.

"If she writes it, she can twist my words. I won't give her that much control."

Kaito raised an eyebrow. "What are you thinking?"

"The Shoowaysha board is going to reach out to us by the end of the day to ask for a follow-up interview, they sent and email this morning." Endeavor said.

He straightened his shoulders.

"I'm not letting a journalist write my legacy. I'm turning this into a direct broadcast deal. I'll give them the 'Perfect Family', a look at how the Number One household actually functions. I'll give them the most effective father they've ever seen. I'll show them that I can manage my house just as well as I manage my hero duties."

Kaito stared at him.

A reality-style PR pivot. It was brutal and effective. Endeavor was turning a crisis into a high-stakes campaign for Rank 1.

"You're going to have to actually sit there and eat dinner without lting the table, Endeavor-san," Kaito warned. "You have to be a person, not a pro-hero."

"I've mastered my quirk," Endeavor growled, though his jaw was gritted tight. "I can be a better father."

H-ZTT.

A small spark of blue fla flickered at his fingertips before he forced it out.

"Put on a sweater. And try not to look like you're about to murder the caraman when they arrive." Kaito said, picking up his tablet and leaving the office.

_-_-_-_-_-_

Location: Naruhata – Kaito's Room

Date: Sunday Night | 09:00 PM

CLICK.

Kaito tapped the spacebar on his laptop, pausing a digital map of the Naruhata industrial sector.

The screen was covered in blue lines—new patrol vectors he'd been designing for the O'Clock Agency.

"If we move the 2:00 AM sweep three blocks east, we catch the ventilation exit for the old textile mill," Kaito said. He leaned back against his couch, sitting on the floor. "That's where the Trigger remnants are being moved. It's a bottleneck."

"Makes sense," Makoto said.

She was sitting next to him, cross-legged, a tablet in her hand.

She was wearing a loose hoodie and sweatpants. "The local gangs are getting spooked by the new cara grid. They're sticking to the blind spots. I'll have the guys start the new rotation tomorrow."

THUD.

Makoto set her tablet on the coffee table and reached for the TV remote.

"Business is done," she said, glancing at the clock. "It's starting. I've been seeing the hashtags for this all day. They really did it. They turned the Number Three hero into a variety show."

BEEP.

The TV screen flickered to life.

The Shoowaysha logo appeared, followed by a high-definition shot of the Musutafu skyline at sunset.

Then, the title card swept across the screen in bold, gold letters:

"Keeping Up with the Todorokis"

Kaito winced slightly at the title on the screen. He rembered blurting it out to Chitose as a joke during a call.

"Like that title?" Kaito muttered.

"It's catchy, the whole country loves it," Makoto laughed turning her attention back to the screen.

WHOOSH.

The episode started with a montage of Endeavor on patrol, looking heroic and stoic.

Then, the music shifted—soft, acoustic piano. The scene changed to the front gates of the Todoroki Estate.

The cara moved through the house. It looked clean, traditional, and peaceful. The editing was incredible.

In its place was a "warm" filter that made the estate look cozy instead of suffocating.

"Look at him," Makoto said, pointing at the screen.

Endeavor was on cara, sitting in his study without his mask. He looked older, tired, but sohow more relatable.

"Is he actually like that?" Makoto asked, her voice turning serious. "I've seen him before. The man is a walking furnace. He doesn't just sit and talk. Is this all just... fake?"

"...."

Kaito watched the screen. He saw the scenes of the daily routines, schedules, trainings, lifestyle, eating habits and al tis.

He saw Fuyumi's smile and Natsuo's silent eating. He saw Shoto coldly slurping soba.

The editors had cut out the smoke from Endeavor's sweater.

They had cut out the part where his hand crushed the chopsticks.

"It's an act," Kaito said. He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. "For now."

"Then why do it?" Makoto asked. "If it's a lie, the public will find out eventually. You can't hide a temper like his forever."

"That's the point of the contract," Kaito said. He turned to look at her. "One episode a month. Twelve months. A full year of being fild. Endeavor wants the Number One rank more than anything else in the world. To get it, he has to maintain this character. He has to stay in the 'Father' role every ti a cara is near him."

CRACKLE.

On the TV, Endeavor was shown awkwardly helping Fuyumi clear the table. He looked stiff, but he was doing it.

"It's called Behavioral Plasticity," Kaito explained. "And Self-Perception. If you force a person to behave in a certain way long enough, especially if the reward is sothing they desperately want, their brain starts to rewire itself. Endeavor is observing himself being a 'good father' on TV. He's seeing the public praise him for it. Eventually, his internal identity will shift to match the external one just to stop the ntal friction."

"Literally retraining his brain," Makoto said, her eyes wide. "Using his own ambition as a leash."

"He's a man of habit," Kaito said. "If he acts like a father for a year to get the rank, he might realize he actually likes the house being quiet. The positive feedback from the public is a stronger drug than his own rage."

SLURP.

Shoto was shown on screen, looking at the cara with a blank expression.

["I don't care about the ranking," Shoto's voice-over said. "I just want to train and enter UA."]

Makoto laughed, leaning back against the couch. "That kid is the only honest person in that house."

They sat in silence for the rest of the hour, watching the rest of the premiere.

The episode ended with a shot of the whole family sitting on the porch, looking out at the garden.

It was a perfect, edited lie—but it was a lie that was keeping a family from falling apart.

BZZZT. BZZZT.

Kaito's phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up. It was a text from Chitose.

[Chitose: Ratings are through the roof. The HPSC is calling an ergency eting tomorrow morning. They're terrified of how much the public loves him now. Good work, Manager.]

[Kaito: No Chitose-san, you're the one that made it possible. I'm just giving you suggestions]

[Chitose: Hehehe]

Kaito set the phone down and looked at the black TV screen.

WHII.

A gust of wind hit the apartnt window, making the glass hum.

_-_-_-_-_

Author's Note:

Sorry for the delayed chapter, guys! Sothing important ca up on my end that I had to take care of, so that's my bad.

.....

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