"Hirua, remember, heroes are worthless people. They only help people who can help them back, so never trust them, especially the Gifted Corps..." The girl with long brown hair stroked the little boy's head.
"But I want to be a hero! I won't be like them! I'll be a good hero!" The little boy with brown hair and blue eyes said, raising his toy plastic sword.
"Hero, my a**." A young man with brown hair and blue eyes muttered to himself, resting his head on his desk. The memory, a recurring loop in his mind, always ended the same way: with bitterness and a profound sense of disillusionment.
"Hirua!..." A voice whispered urgently. "Hirua! Mr. Goro's gonna flip if he sees you sleeping."
Leave me alone, Ryuuta… Hirua thought, nestling his face deeper into his arms. Sleep offered a temporary escape from the monotony of school and the gnawing anxiety that bothers him almost every day.
"Hirua Amanai!" Mr. Goro's voice boomed, followed by the loud bang of his palm hitting the desk.
Hirua jolted upright, his heart pounding. He straightened in his chair, grabbing his pen with a shaky hand. "Yes, sir?"
"Where are your manners!? Sleeping in my class, and when I call you, you don't even apologize! How dare yo-" Mr. Goro's tirade was cut short as the classroom door slid open with a annoying screech.
A woman stood in the doorway, her presence radiating an almost palpable authority. Her vibrant, wine-red hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that was both beautiful and intimidating.
"Deviancy Checking," she announced, her voice sharp and precise. "All students of class 12-5… Oh?" She paused, her eyes scanning the room. "Is this not class 12-5?"
"N-no, this is class 12-5, but… was it today?" Mr. Goro stammered, a bead of sweat trickling down his double chin. He looked like a cornered animal, his usual bluster replaced with nervous apprehension.
The woman's eyes widened slightly, as if she'd just realized something. "Ohh, you're the teacher who was sitting in the back during the meeting, clearly not paying attention. Please tell your students to proceed to the testing room, starting with the boys in alphabetical order," she said, reading from the papers in her hand. "That's all. Yu-sheum, guide the first student to the testing room." She turned and walked away, leaving one of her subordinates standing guard in the doorway.
"Who's first on the attendance list?" Mr. Goro asked, looking utterly intimidated by the man in the doorway.
Shihouru, the class president, raised her hand. "It's Amanai Hirua, sir."
"Oh, thank God, it's the delinquent. Hirua, follow this man to the checking room!" Mr. Goro barked, his relief palpable.
This fat hobo. I hope you get fired! Hirua thought, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. He couldn't shake the feeling that this day would change everything.
Hirua followed the man, Yu-sheum, down the hallway. He was wearing a black suit with a white tie, his expression impassive. Curious, Hirua glanced at the man's name tag. "C-IV" was stitched onto it, with "Yu-sheum Kang" printed below.
He's Korean? Hirua thought, quickening his pace to keep up.
As they walked past another classroom, a girl's ahoge suddenly twitched. It's Hirua… Wait, Deviancy Checking day is today? The girl with dark blue hair thought, her eyes widening in curiosity and realization.
"Miss Seren, do you know what percentage of water on Earth is freshwater?" Mrs. Yuhime asked.
"Three percent," Seren answered automatically, her gaze still fixed on the hallway.
"Very good. Now take your seat. Looking at Mister Amanai won't help you unless he's your motivation," Mrs. Yuhime teased, earning a chorus of giggles from the other students.
As Hirua and Yu-sheum walked towards the quieter part of the school, Hirua noticed dark stains on the ground, seemingly cleaned off in a hurry. Blood?
Before Hirua could ask, Yu-sheum pushed him into a room.
The wine-haired woman from earlier sat behind a metal desk, her face still bright but undeniably intimidating. The room was sterile and bare, with a single metal chair positioned in front of the desk.
"You are Hirua, right?" She asked, glancing from the paper in her hand to Hirua.
Hirua didn't answer. He merely stared at the woman's tag. "X-I" was stitched onto it, with her name, "Yurim Kim," printed below. X-I? What does that even mean?
"Alright, let's get to the point," she said, her voice brooking no argument. She held out her palm, revealing a pinch of green powder. With a sharp exhale, she blew the powder into Hirua's face.
What the!? This cra** woman! Hirua thought as he inhaled the powder. He choked, coughing violently, as if a fishbone or a mouthful of chili peppers were lodged in his throat. He stumbled backward, his eyes watering, his vision blurring.
The moment he stopped coughing and forced his eyes open, they were glowing a bright cyan, tears streaming down his face.
"A support type, huh? Do you know how to use 'Est'?" She said, her eyes flashing with a yellow, ringed glow.
"The fu** are you talking about!" Hirua yelled, his voice hoarse and weak. He felt disoriented, his body trembling.
Yurim simply smiled and snapped a blue, metallic cuff onto Hirua's left wrist. Then, she called to someone outside the room. "Da-geum, please bring Mister Amanai to the van and deliver him to Korea, in Dongdaemun Headquarters," she said, her smile widening as she looked at Hirua.
A large man appeared in the doorway. Without a word, he lifted Hirua and carried him towards the back door. The woman, now alone in the room, watched them go, her eyes glowing with an unsettling intensity. "Next," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Hirua, who was being carried by Da-geum, struggled against his grip. Da** it, I should use my Gift to escape… They're gonna fu***** send me to Korea.
"Don't use your Gift," Da-geum said, his voice calm and devoid of emotion. "Just give up and join the Deviant Corps."
They reached the back of the school, where a black van idled. Da-geum unceremoniously tossed Hirua inside.
The van already had three occupants. A girl with vibrant pink hair in a bob cut, a guy with silver hair, and another guy with an army cut.
Are they… Gifted like me too? Hirua thought, pushing himself into a sitting position.