“Right then, old man. You better not try anything funny, or we’ll have a problem, got it?” Makoto said in a commanding tone, leaning on the counter of the small corner store, her claws tapping on the glass surface. She looked back at the other students she had brought along. They were packing their school bags with whatever they got their hands on - snacks, drinks, even alcohol. The store owner had backed up against the wall behind his counter, watching on helplessly. Makoto had gotten quite tall over the past two years, practically towering over the shopkeeper.

“Boss, should we grab anything for you?!” One of the girls in the back shouted through the store, currently in the process of stuffing a few cans of light beer into her bag. Makoto gave her a dismissive wave, not taking her eyes off the man in front of her.

“The usual! And don’t you dare to get the cheap shit this time, you hear me?!” Makoto shouted back, finally turning around to take a proper look at how things were going. The shopkeep just let out a panicked scream as he ran off the moment Makoto stopped watching him. She just raised her hand to stop a few of the students from running after him. “Don’t bother. We’re done here anyway. You better get your asses moving before the cops show up… or worse, one of those wannabe heroes!” 

Just as she was starting to head toward the door, one of the newer members of their little gang jumped the counter, fiddling with the lock on the cash register. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks the moment they noticed, the store suddenly dead silent, save for the sounds of the girl attempting to open the cash compartment. After a few moments of fiddling with the lock, the register popped open with a loud ping, revealing the money inside! She was so focused on the money that she didn’t even notice that everyone was watching her. Just as she reached out to grab some of the money, she’d feel Makoto’s claws grip onto her wrist, painfully digging into her skin. 

“And what do you think you’re doing…?” Makoto asked in an ice cold tone, staring right into the girl's eyes with a gaze that could kill, slowly forcing the girl's hand away from the money. The girl jolted up as soon as she felt Makoto grip onto her, spinning around to look at their leader. She was new and had never interacted much with their leader, only having heard stories about her.

“B-Boss! I-I was just… just grabbing the money for you! Y-you know! Saving you some work!” She stuttered out, staring up at Makoto, trembling in fear. Makoto’s grip tightened around the girl’s wrist.

“And what would we need that for…?” She shoved the girl away from behind the counter, causing her to trip and fall onto her butt. The gang leader squatted down to be on eye level with the girl again. “We already take everything we need, so what would we need money for?” Makoto stood up again, giving the rest of her gang a nod as she began heading for the shop's door, still talking, albeit a lot less interested. “Takeda-kun… I can’t stand looking at her face anymore… you explain it to her…” 

Makoto’s second in command, Takeda Mitsuaki, stepped behind the girl as she watched the gang leader step out onto the street. 

“Himura-chan, was it~?” He asked with a chuckle in his voice, looking down at the girl with a mischievous smirk. “Lemme tell you a thing or two ‘bout us… ‘cause we got a few rules ya’ clearly missed.” 

Himura Akane, the girl in question, had only joined recently after a friend of hers talked her into it. He told her about how much freedom they had, how they could do anything they wanted and wouldn’t need to worry about their parents, teachers or even heroes telling them what to do. Her friend seemed to have neglected telling her about the strict set of rules Makoto had set up. 

Mitsuaki let a few shocks of electricity bolt through Akanes arm by using his quirk as if to reprimand her for her mistakes. 

“It’s simple, really. Sure, takin’ the food and drinks is annoying to them… but they’ll just buy some new stock! But ya’ see…” He grabbed the money that Akane had dropped, stuffing it back into the register and slamming the drawer shut, almost breaking the machine. “They’re much more in love with their cash. We take that, they’ll immediately send the cops or some hero after us. Got it, dear~?” He gave her a bright smile, patting her head, once again shocking her ever so slightly.

Akane just nodded quietly, gulping down the knot that had built up in her throat, tears building up in her eyes. 

Just as she was about to get up and apologise for her mistake, she’d be knocked back onto the floor as the body of a young man came crashing through the large store window, smashing right into the rather small girl. He was wearing what was clearly supposed to be a hero costume - a suit of armour made from plastic, obviously inspired by heroes like Ingenium and his successor by the same name. He quickly got back onto his feet and brushed the glass shards off his body. 

Every member of Makoto's gang jumped right into action as they realised what was happening, activating their quirks and getting into position. Flames and bolts of electricity started flashing up around him. Limbs extended or turned into various kinds of weapons. Those without quirks drew weapons such as heavy metal chains, wooden bats and swords, switchblades and other knives. Even Akane, who was still close to crying a second ago got in on the action, streaks of red energy flowing around her arms and hands. Mitsuaki took one look at the hero they were surrounding, slipping on a pair of brass knuckles, giving him a smirk.

Makoto was standing on the street outside, looking in through the broken window. A crowd of civilians had gathered around the shop, watching on, some recording the whole thing with their phones. The store's owner was among them, being the one who called on the hero for help.

The gang’s leader raised her clawed hand just as her underlings were about to make their move. This simple gesture was enough for them all to stop dead in their tracks. 

“Stand down… each and every one of you!” She shouted angrily, looking at a tear in her uniform, caused by the hero's attempt to intervene. Her gaze slowly wandered to the hero in the store. “This is between me and this wannabe over here.” 

The hero wiped some of the sweat off his forehead before getting back into his fighting stance, staring down Makoto. 

“My name is Zoom, the racing hero!” He exclaimed proudly, posing as if someone was taking pictures. The students and their leader burst into laughter as they heard his name, Makoto having a hard time to pull herself back together. 

“Are you serious? That’s the hero name you went with?” She asked with a chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Now I almost feel bad for beating the crap out of you. Almost.” Makoto continued. “Alright then… give it your best… Zoom.” She snorted a little.

The hero loosened his shoulders and legs with a few stretches, having completely missed the fact that everyone present was making fun of him. He crouched down like a sprinter about to take off, staring right at the delinquent girl. Then, without a warning, he dashed toward her at high speed, his legs moving faster than the eye could see. Before Makoto knew it, he was right in front of her, pulling his arm back for a punch to her face. She couldn’t help but gasp a little in shock, quickly pulling her head to the side, narrowly avoiding his jab.

With her hands still in her pockets, she stepped aside, sticking her leg out to trip him up. While effective in causing the hero to fall over, Makoto didn’t quite take the speed his legs were moving at into account, getting pulled down to the ground as well as he slammed his leg into her shin. Unlike him, she quickly rolled off the ground and back onto her feet, still in time to watch Zoom plant his face firmly into the asphalt. Their spectators winced a little as he slid across the road surface, leaving a few layers of skin behind. Makoto dusted herself off as she approached the downed hero, placing her foot on his back to pin him down, leaning onto her knee as she bent down. His costume had broken in several places, the plastic of his ‘armour’ scattered all over the road. “Learned your lesson yet? You leave us the fuck alone or you taste the ground.” She snarled, giving him a disapproving look, some of her sharp teeth showing.

The hero needed a few seconds to recover from his fall, slowly turning and lifting his head up to look at her. “N-no… I’m not l-letting you get away with this…!” He stuttered out, attempting to get back up only to be pressed down harder by the girl above him.

“Come on… you don’t stand a chance. It’s two dozen against you and I haven’t even started trying yet. You heroes truly are useless.” Makoto scoffed, finally getting off him as she noticed something among the shards of broken plastic. “Well, well… is this what I think it is?” She chuckled as she picked up Zoom's provisional hero licence. “Not even a real hero, are you? How’d they even let someone like you get one of these?” She asked, turning back around to take a look at Zoom, who was slowly peeling himself off the ground. 

“Give… Give that back!” He stuttered, pulling up a bit of blood that was running out of his nose, finally getting back on his feet and straightening up. “Someone like you doesn’t deserve holding that!” 

Makoto looked up from the card as he said that. “What did you just say…?” Her tone had changed completely, the teasing chuckle switched out for a dead serious, monotone voice. 

Mitsuaki pushed himself to the front lines of spectators to bud in. “Boss, I don’t think he meant it that way! Let’s just get the hell out of here before the cops-”
Makoto cut him off mid-sentence, raising her hand to signal him to be quiet. “Shut your fucking mouth, Takeda. I don’t want to hear it.” She barked, not taking her eyes off the hero in front of her. “Go ahead, little hero. Don’t make me force you to talk.”

Zoom gulped as Makoto gave him a stare angry enough to kill. Like a good hero, he pulled himself together. “Y-you’re just some… some delinquent! A criminal! Someone like you…” He stuttered out nervously. “Someone like you should never be allowed to have one of those!” He shouted, trying his best to cover up his fear. 

The gang leader's expression didn’t change as she snapped the card in two, tossing the pieces into the dirt, Zoom flinching a little as he heard the plastic crack. Makoto’s expression made it painfully clear that she wasn’t just joking around anymore. She cracked her knuckles and displayed her clawed hands with a sinister smirk, suddenly dashing toward him with one of her hands reaching right for his head. Zoom managed to barely move out of the way with the help of his quirk, two of Makoto's claws grazing his cheek, leaving behind cuts in his helmet. He knew that he couldn’t give her any time to recover, sweeping Makoto's legs away from underneath her. She let out a gasp as she fell but managed to roll back onto her feet, staying close to the ground as she charged him again, tackling right into him and tossing him to the ground, pinning the hero by sitting on top of him, her claws wrapping around his neck and digging into the road. 

“That’s it, you little shit. Choose your next words very carefully and you might be able to walk out of this without any more cuts.” Makoto growled, balling her other hand to a fist and getting ready to punch the terrified hero beneath her.

“W-Why…” Zoom coughed, struggling to breathe with Makoto’s hand around his neck. “Why are you doing this…?! W-What have these people done to deserve this? You could be so much better than this! All of you!” He suddenly shouted, looking at the members of Makoto’s gang that were still surrounding them.

Makoto hesitated for a moment, almost lowering her fist. “You… You know nothing about us! What we’ve been through!” She shouted before hitting the hero square on the face with all her pent up anger. His helmet shattered into dozens of pieces under the force of her punch, shortly followed by his nose giving in with an audible crunch. With his helmet in pieces, Makoto could finally see his face. He was not much older than her or anyone in her gang. If it wasn’t for his hero costume, he’d fit right in with them. She let go of his throat and straightened up, taking a deep breath. He looked almost pitiful laying there unconscious, blood slowly spilling out of his crooked nose. Makoto just let out a sigh, moving his head to the side so the blood wouldn’t pool in his throat before slowly getting back onto her feet. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of he-” She wouldn’t be able to finish her sentence, a kick to her back knocking the air out of her, sending her flying a good few meters before she hit the asphalt, sliding right in front of the feet of her friends who just stared at her for a second, then at the person who had attacked her. The rather burly man was quickly identifiable by his unusual outfit - pieces of a suit of samurai armour fitted over normal street clothes. He was a pro hero by the name of Armoured Striker

“Well what’s all this then?!” He said with a chuckle in his voice, looking around the circle of people that had formed around the fight, his glance briefly resting on Zoom. “You did well to stop her from running away, kid. Dontcha worry, an ambulance is already on the way.” He completely ignored the fact that Zoom was knocked out cold, just laughing a little and looking up at Makoto who was gasping for air, struggling to get back onto her feet. “Might need a second one, since she clearly doesn’t wanna stop fighting quite yet. Just stay down, girl, don’t wanna hurt you even more.” 

Makoto just grumbled a little as she pushed herself back onto all fours, pulling herself up to her feet by one of her gang members' uniforms. “I already-” She still struggled for air, taking a few deep breaths. “I already told the other guy to leave us alone…”

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, kiddo. Look around for a second.” He put one hand on his hips and gestured around the scene. “You don’t really think you’re gonna get away with this, do you?” He sighed a little and shook his head, slowly approaching Makoto and the rest of her gang. The others slowly backed away from him, leaving their leader to fend for herself. “This is more than just some stolen alcohol and cigarettes. People got hurt, kid.” He glanced over at Zoom who had regained consciousness and rolled onto his side in pain. “Don’t try to fight, you’ll just make it worse for yourself.” He looked back up at Makoto who had finally regained her footing, still hunched over from the pain in her back.

“Why… why do you have to show up now…?” She coughed out, staring right into the pro heroes eyes. Her natural pink irises slowly shifting into a dirty red, her hands tensing up, her claws at her side, ready to pounce him at any moment. “Where were you heroes when my mother was brutally assaulted…?”

Striker just scoffed a little, waving her off. “We can’t possibly always be everywhere! That’s no reason-” He wouldn’t be able to finish his sentence, being cut off by one of Makoto’s followers stepping forth. It was Himura Akane, now wielding two crystal blades on her forearms.

“And where were you when my gym teacher tried to pull the moves on me?!” She shouted at him, pointing one of the blades at him threateningly. 

“Or when my dad threw me out onto the streets for refusing to pay for his addiction?!” Another shouted, also stepping besides Makoto, a heavy chain wrapped around his arm and fist. 

The rest of the gang mumbled in agreement, the whole bunch lining up with their quirks and weapons ready. Their leader just chuckled a little, looking at everyone coming together, then back up at the pro hero. “You hero assholes only show up when it’s convenient to you… when it makes you look good in front of the people.” She growled out, the muscles on her arms visibly tensing up, her fingers twitching a little. “Stopping some pervert teacher, an abusive family or some attack in the dead of night with nobody else around… that won’t make it to the news. It doesn’t matter in your precious hero rankings, does it?” 

Striker just scoffed, taking his hands out of his pockets and cracking his knuckles to get ready for the imminent fight. “What do some street kids like you know? Hero business isn’t just another one of your games, you’ll get it once you’re older!” 

At that moment, Makoto couldn’t hold back any longer. Something inside her just… snapped. The same burning anger raging inside of her that she had felt back when she first faced Kimura Sora, her vision blurring for but a second before focusing solely on the pro hero in front of her, everything around them becoming irrelevant. Even the oldest member of their gang had seen her like this a few times and it always ended the same - with whoever was pissing her off on the ground, crying for mercy. It certainly drove home her position as their leader. 

Within a split second of Striker finishing his sentence, Makoto took off from where she was standing, practically disappearing from sight, reaching the pro hero almost in an instant. No longer was she holding back her attacks, no longer just fighting with relatively harmless punches, she dead set on putting Striker in his place. Striker didn’t seem too surprised, lazily adjusting his stance and raising one of his arms, Makoto’s attack impacting directly on one of the armour plates on his forearm, barely leaving a scratch.

“That all you got?” Striker still had that amused tone in his voice as if he wasn’t even taking anything that was happening seriously. He swiped his arm to the side, pushing Makoto back a good distance, dusting himself off demonstratively. Makoto didn’t hesitate long, stopping herself from sliding further back by digging one of her claws into the ground, using the grip it gave her to launch herself toward him again, aiming yet another simple strike right at him. She quickly shifted her weight the moment she saw him change his stance, using her off-hand to go past his readied counter only to once again strike one of the armoured plates, Striker adapting even faster than before. The entire force of her strike didn’t even shake the pro hero, even worse, it left her wide open for him to punch her straight to the gut. She felt her ribs give in as he hit her, a wave of force travelling through her entire body, yet, the sheer anger she felt far overshadowed any pain.

She grabbed onto the arm with which he had struck her, slowly prying it aside and slashing him across the chest. Her claws tore right through the fabric of his clothes, leaving them in shreds and exposing part of his chest. Just like the armoured plates on his arms and legs, there were hardened armour plates growing on his skin, almost resembling some sort of insect carapace. 

Striker just grumbled a little while looking at his shirt, freeing himself from Makoto’s grip by kicking her square on the chest, causing her to stumble backwards. “Now you’ve done it, kiddo. I literally just picked these up from the tailor.” He said with a sigh, tearing off what remained of the shirt and sweater. “It’s gonna take more than that to put a dent in me. Just shows that you know even less than I thought!” 

Mitsuaki helped Makoto back onto her feet as she tumbled right into him and a few others. “Boss, you ain’t gonna get through that armour with brute force… let one of us handle-” 

He’d be cut off by Makoto raising her hand to signal him to shut up. “Didn’t know your quirk was being obvious.” She mumbled, huffing a little, testingly touching her chest, feeling where it had caved in. “Himura-san… I want you and Ishida-san over there to attack him head on with me… Mitsuaki, grab whoever you deem fit to get through that cunts armour while we distract him.” She ordered, snarling a little as the pain began to set in. Makoto took a deep breath as she focused on the hero again, shifting her feet back into a fighting stance, Akane and Ishida doing the same. Ishida Kohaku was the gang's heavy hitter. Easily towering over even Makoto, she was the one they sent in whenever they needed to intimidate someone and their leader was too lazy to do it herself.

Makoto charged in head first once again, this time followed closely by two of her gang members. Akane being the fastest one of the three quickly took the lead, unleashing a flurry of blows using her crystalline arm blades onto Striker, the sheer speed and weight of her blades letting her get a few good hits in before the crystal shattered upon the pro hero's armour plates. She quickly stepped aside, letting Makoto attack once more who continued the onslaught with rapid slashes, actually managing to put a few nicks and scrapes into the hero.

Mitsuaki and one other delinquent had used the distraction to get behind the hero and close in, the latter covering Mitsuaki’s approach with a burst of flames. Mitsuaki ducked underneath one of Striker’s punches, reaching his hand up to touch the pro hero’s chest, sending an electric shock through him. Striker tensed up, the opening letting Kohaku get in a solid punch to the hero’s jaw, making him stumble backwards a little, which in turn caused Mitsuaki to lose his direct connection to the hero, prematurely ending the electric shock. 

The bunch attempted to re-group as quickly as they could but the pro hero recovered faster, knocking aside Mitsuaki and Akane with ease. “Alright then, I think you’ve had your fun now, eh?” He grumbled somewhat annoyed, dashing toward Makoto and channelling the energy his armour plates had absorbed into a punch that knocked her out cold in a single hit, not even giving her time to react. Kohaku watched her boss fly across the street for a second, turning back toward Striker just in time to use her quirk to redirect one of his punches away from her, his fist getting pushed aside by some sort of force field. He quickly followed up with another charged punch right to her stomach, causing her to buckle and drop like a sack of potatoes. 

Armoured Striker just let out a disappointed sigh, looking at the remaining delinquents who just stared at their unconscious boss and their two best fighters curled up on the ground. “I told ya kids to just let me do my work… but you didn’t listen. We could’ve done this with a lot less pain.” He just shrugged, using the remains of his shirt to tie up Kohaku, Akane and Mitsuaki, none of whom had the strength to resist.