A high school girl with fluffed up dark green hair watches people while sipping tea at a small cafe in a small town. A clean-cut gentleman in an immaculate suit, seemingly not much older than her, watches her from across the table.

The girl sets her cup down. “Are you sure about this?,” she asks her guest.

“Absolutely,” the deceptively young man says. “Given their ordeal, we need to keep a closer eye on them. Besides, Kirie, your mother told us about-“

Kirie pouts. “Those letters were supposed to be between just me and her!"

He looks down into his coffee, like a child being scolded.

She huffs and looks back out the window, "What’s so great about these people anyway?”

He leans across the table, hand hiding his mouth. “They fought two greater demons,” he says in a stage whisper, “and held their own.”

Kirie gives the gentleman a bewildered stare, struggling to find words. “What are they, then? Witches? Won’t I get in trouble for associating with blasphemers?”

The suited man shakes his head, “Just one of of them, Kirie. The rest are, as you might say, gifted.”

Kirie tilts her head to the side, “You mean ESPers?”

“An ES-what now?”

She leans back, smiling, "My school defines them as people who have suddenly developed mysterious powers. Mages and those blessed with our divine magic are also attending with them."

“I see,” He nods, then under his breath mumbles, “So that’s what they call them…”

Kirie tilts her head to the other side, “Did you say something Zaqiel?”

“Ah,” He holds his hand up and waves her off, “It’s nothing important!”

She pauses. “Well, if I’m to join them, what about my old club? Who will show them the error of their ways?”

“Rest assured, Kirie. We have someone taking up your previous assignment.”

She smiles, “Praise be. Those lost lambs most certainly need a shepherd.”

Zaqiel smiles back. "I've heard of their misdeeds. For you to make it this far with them shows you have the patience of a saint."

“I try,” Kirie says, gripping her teacup hard enough to shake it. She takes a long, calming sip, savoring the tea as if trying to wash her club’s bad taste out of her mouth. "So, to confirm, I’m to join this incoming club, keep tabs on them, and assist them should they get in trouble with those from...” She leans forward and whispers, “Down South?”

“Yes. To properly equip you for the task, I've been asked to give you this.” He reaches into his jacket’s pocket and produces an engraved wooden box. He slides it across the table to Kirie.

Upon opening it her eyes widen as she stares at a bejeweled, beautifully carved amulet within.

“This will let you keep in touch with Up North. I've also been told it can be used as a focus for your own powers so long as you don't overload it."

Kirie looks into the amulet, a melancholic expression on her face, “These look a lot like the type of gems Papa liked to collect.”

Zaqiel looks down at the table, her words doing more damage than she intended. “...We will find him soon, Kirie.”

She looks back up to him, “I know, Zaqiel. I’ve not given up looking for him either.”

“I kno-” He stops himself, “He and I know that you are still trying very hard to find him again.”

Kirie leaps from her seat, reassured by his words, and hugs him. “Thank you so much! I won’t let you or Papa down!” She lets go and half-skips, half-runs out the door.

Zaqiel sighs. “The Lord’s work is never done, I suppose.” He finishes the rest of his coffee in silence. A waitress leaves him the check, he sets two ornate golden coins on top of it and goes to grab his hat from the coat rack at the door. He looks at the ground, then the cloudless blue sky, before walking out of the cafe and into the light.

***

It’s been just a day since schools let out for the break, but the blonde-haired teenage girl lazing on her sofa would give the impression that it had been a few months.

She made it through her first year of high school in one piece, with some fresh scars from her misadventures. She fiddles with the bandages on her left arm, her latest “badge of honor” from protecting the weak. It's not often people fight back but as rumors swirled around her, the more ferocious her targets became either for their own safety or their own stupidity.

She holds her right hand up. Embers begin to swirl around it as she lowers it towards her bandages. She doesn't get far before she gets a smack on the back of her head. She looks back to see her mother, a thin, stern woman with her hair tied back in a bun. The teen notices she's still in her scrubs from her shift at the hospital, but she never remembers hearing the door open.

"I've told you, your father hates it when you do that Rina!" Her mother scolds.

"He's not awake yet!" Rina argues back.

Her mother shakes her head, "Either way, we don't need you burning down our house on accident! Now...what were you planning to do?"

Rina meets her mother’s eyes and notices the fierce woman staring a hole through her. She shrinks back a bit, "...Burn off my bandages?"

"And what did I tell you about messing with your bandages?"

"’Touch them again and I'll wrap up your other arm’?"

Her mother nods as she looks at her daughter more thoroughly. Rina's hair is a mess as if she's only been awake for only an hour or so. A quick look at her outfit, a baggy t-shirt, and shorts, confirms her mother's suspicions.

"Go get dressed." She orders, walking to her own room, "We have a guest arriving at any minute."

"Fiiiiiiiiine." Rina groans.

She rolls off the sofa and grabs a set of clothes out of a basket of fresh laundry sitting on a nearby table. She changes shirts as she goes into her room. A minute later she walks out fully dressed, tying her hair back into a ponytail.

Around that time, her mother returns with Rina's father in tow, a tall American with bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He desperately tries to make his short, brown hair presentable.

"Looks like you cleaned up," he finally says in English, "Thanks for doing that!"

"You look rough." Rina responds in English, "You gonna be fine?"

Her father stretches, making his way to the kitchen. "Nothing to it! Just need some coffee..."

Rina shakes her head, “And what time did you get in last night?”

Her dad’s response is drowned out by a knock on the door.

"I got it!" Rina shouts to her parents and dashes to the door. She opens it to find a rather official-looking woman holding a clipboard.

“Lucy Usha, Zonzai High School,” the woman introduces herself. "Would you happen to be Miss Rina Warren?"

Rina nods. Before she can say anything else, her mother appears at the door.

"Please come in Ms. Usha." Her mother greets Lucy with a noticeably sweeter tone than she uses for Rina.

Lucy nods and steps in, “Please, Lucy is just fine.” Rina’s mother leads Lucy and the others to the living room.

"So what's happening here?" Rina asks, looking at her parents, "You guys know her?"

Rina's mother shoots her a harsh look, "Ms. Usha is here to talk to you, Rina."

Rina is taken aback. "Me!?"

Lucy nods, "Miss Warren, I represent Zonzai High School. Your principal reached out to us. He says you're a real...firecracker.

Rina shrugs, "He can call me what he wants."

"Rina!" Her mother chastises, “What have I told you about controlling your temper? To be called such a thing!”

"That's exactly what the principal told us." Lucy continues, "He also told us you cause a lot of collateral damage."

"I guess I'm really strong." Rina leans back on the sofa, "That or everything at that school is really weak."

Lucy takes notes, "I see... We talked to your principal and parents and we all feel...that school isn’t the best fit for you."

Rina looks confused, "Best fit? Best fit?! I’m taking out the trash down there! Is the principal afraid I kick too much ass or something?"

Her mother snatches at Rina’s wrist, holding up the bandages for everyone to see, "Look at your arm, Rina! This is just the start! This is..." She catches herself, not wanting to reveal the real reason for this meeting. "This was your school's idea and we support it!"

Her father nods, "Besides, we think you'll enjoy this school!"

Rina laughs. "There's nothing to enjoy about school!"

Rina’s laugh is cut short by her mother squeezing the bandages causing her to yelp.

Lucy clears her throat, "Miss Warren, have you heard of Duke Wilson's Academy for the Excellent? We run a similar program."

"You're just like them!?" Rina asks, eyes glimmering.

"You could say that." Lucy says, "They are one of our sister schools, and we too specialize in young ESPers."

Rina’s excitement turns to annoyance, "The hell is an ESPer?"

Rina’s father goes pale.

Lucy remains unfazed, "Individuals who have powers such as yourself."

"Wait," Rina says, raising her hand, "You're saying thi-" she catches herself, noticing how her father has locked up in fear. Rina puts her hand back down, "You've probably already seen what I can do haven't you?"

Lucy nods, "We have, and we feel you would be a perfect fit at our school."

Rina quivers with excitement. "Will I be able to become a superhero too?"

Lucy flips through the papers on her clipboard, "I...don't see why that wouldn't be a possibility. I’ll let you look through our-"

Lucy’s spiel is cut short by Rina holding back a squeal, barely able to compose herself. "I'll do it!"

Lucy smiles faintly as she pulls a stack of papers off her clipboard, "I just need you to sign these, and we should all be set, Miss Warren." She presents a pen to the young girl, who greedily snatches it up.

Rina furiously begins scribbling her signature on the forms, not paying attention to the fact that they've already been filled out for her.

Lucy takes back the papers and stands up, "Thank you, Miss Warren, Mr. and Mrs. Warren. We will send along a welcome packet with your class schedule and a move-in date in a few week’s time."

Rina's mother stands and bows, "Thank you so much, Mrs. Usha! Let me help you with your stuff!" She walks over to their guest and leads her to the door.

Her father scrambles to bow as well as the two ladies step outside. He collapses back into his chair as soon as he hears the door click shut.

Rina stands up in a daze, "If you guys need me, I'll be in my room..."

Her father chuckles, "Don't celebrate too hard in there."

"I-I won't!" She answers, picking up her pace as her face begins to heat up.

She flings the door open to her room, pausing to look at her shelves full of a wide variety of masked hero action figures. A few movie posters are hanging here and there. She slams the door behind her, grabs a magazine off her nightstand, and looks at the cover. It’s an enrollment brochure of Duke Wilson's, plastered with heroic spreads of the students and facility. Rina tosses the paper aside and hops onto her bed, squealing like a little kid.

"I'm gonna be a hero!" Rina giggles.

***

A young boy rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he walks into the living room. He sees an elderly man looking through countless sheets of paper. “Are we filming today, Grandpa?”

“The show will have to wait. We’ve been getting a lot of unusual letters these last couple of weeks.”

“I’ve never heard you get bogged down by letters before. Are they at least still advice column content?”

“Lots of ‘em say they’ve had to move to another school after the buildings got damaged. Some of ‘em heard rumors that demons or monsters or some such were involved, apparently.”

The boy stifles a giggle. “Man, at least people were relatively grounded in the past. Remember that one time someone sent you some barely-edited passages from that Train Guy book?”

“Not so fast, Hotaru. It’s better to keep an open mind. It could be a matter of flowery language,” the man says, as he hands Hotaru a folded letter. “Why, they may be telling the truth for all we know. See for yourself.”

Hotaru opens it and mumbles the words to himself as he reads. “Kuwaga-sensei, help! How do you thank someone when you can’t get in touch with them? Our old school had to close after an incident made the campus too dangerous to keep using. If it hadn’t been for Yuuri, Katsuki, and the rest of the Paranormal Club, Miyafuji High might be even more of a wreck than it is now. I was going to talk to them on social media, but the accounts provided by the school all got deleted when the school closed. Searching hasn’t yielded many results either, since none of them are signed up to anything with their real names. I can’t just let this go - I have so much to thank them for, especially since most students don’t know the truth of the matter. Thanks for your time!”

He mulls the contents over. “Are you thinking of responding to all of them, maybe as a group?”

“And I’d like to figure out how to do it without sounding like a kook. I’d die of embarrassment if there were a headline somewhere like ‘Has Kuwaga-sensei gone off the deep end? The recent video spoke about nonsense like monsters and conspiracy theories’.”

“C’mon, Gramps, you have too good a reputation for that to happen.”

Kuwaga grimaces. “My boy, I’ve worked for newspapers. There are few things more lucrative to write than a hit piece.”

“Speaking of hits, are you ready to hit the road? I’m so excited to see Tochigi!”

“Work comes first, my boy. We can do tourist stuff after you’ve gotten all your new school orientation activities done.”

A few hours later, after a whirlwind of orientation exercises, Hotaru and the rest of his fellow first-years find themselves looking at rows of tables under shade tents. Every club at Zonzai has brought a couple of representatives, hoping to score a few new recruits.

Hotaru mutters to himself as he walks the aisle. “Soccer? I’m too unathletic, and I’d hate being stuck doing everyone’s laundry or something… Yosakoi? Isn’t that a traditional dance? Heck no. I’d be as graceful as a fish out of water.” He goes from booth to booth, feeling more overwhelmed by a lack of good decisions. At the Science club’s booth, he calmly looks over their brochure, but almost gets his ear talked off by a second-year with black hair.

Exasperated, Hotaru sits at a bench, next to his grandfather. Kuwaga looks down and puts a reassuring hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “No luck?”

“Only one of the clubs I’ve seen so far interests me. But…”

“But?”

“They’re super intimidating! One of them was twice as tall as me, and another was speaking so fast and technically that I could barely keep up! They all seemed so smart and cool, and I...”

“You’re one of the smartest kids I know. You’d fit in just fine.”

Hotaru slouches and begins to stare at his hands. However, he can’t mope for long before an interesting conversation reaches his ears. He looks around to find the source of the voices.

A brunette in a drab school uniform looks worriedly at the other girl at their booth, a redhead wearing the same uniform. “So Katsuki, do you think the rumors are true? About the forest by the school?”

The redhead idly twirls a pen. “They’ve gotta be, Yuuri. Visiting there should be one of our first activities as a club, once we get set up here.”

“Even though there might be were-“

The redhead drops the pen. “There better not be werewolves...or skeletons..”

Hotaru stands up and approaches the pair. “Werewolves and skeletons? Are you for real?”

Katsuki jolts up and slaps her hands onto the table, startling the other two. “The realest. We’ve seen and done stuff like you wouldn’t believe. Those kinds of creatures are nothing to us.”

Hotaru ponders a comeback as he looks at the booth’s decorations. The top banner shows a cartoon ghost chasing stick figures. He notices “Paranormal Club” on the booth, and he looks back at the young women, now suddenly interested. “I don’t suppose you two were part of Miyafuji’s Paranormal Club?”

Katsuki, sensing an opportunity, launches into her sales pitch. “That’s us, all right. How would you feel about joining us? Not every day that you get to join forces with better-than-manga heroes, after all.”

As Hotaru thinks it over, Yuuri motions for a huddle away from the front of the booth. “Why are you trying to recruit him? Doesn’t he look a little young to be attending Zonzai?”

Katsuki steals a glance towards the boy. “Unless someone’s letting their little brother walk around unattended for some reason, he’s gotta be an incoming student. A random passerby wouldn’t be taking notes.” Yuuri turns around, and indeed, the boy is writing in a small spiral-bound notebook. Katsuki whispers, “We could use someone with an eye for detail. Besides, just look at him. He’s so bookish, he probably reads encyclopedias for fun. If they care a lot about our grades, he’ll take some of the heat off the others.”

After a minute of silence – minus Hotaru rapidly flipping through his notes – Katsuki leans forward. “Have you come to a decision yet?”

He pockets his notebook. “Frankly, you guys sound like a front for a “go-home club” scheme. Buuuuuuuut, I’ve got nothing to lose by joining. I love a good mystery, and you guys might be able to provide just that. If my worst fears come true, I can probably just give Ms. Usha puppy dog eyes and she’ll let me transfer. Do I have to sign a paper or something?”

Yuuri slides a clipboard across the table. “Just write your name and student ID number in the top box here.”

He gleefully writes in his info. “Okay, seeyouguysonmoveindaybye!” He scurries off to his grandfather.

“You’re looking a lot happier. Did a club finally catch your eye?”

Hotaru nods and smiles back at his grandfather. The old man gets up and pats Hotaru on the back as they leave.

Katsuki and Yuuri high-five. Yuuri says, “All right! One down, plenty more to go!”

Katsuki looks around. The crowd is beginning to thin out, and the few left give the Paranormal booth a wide berth. “Yeah, about that.”

Yuuri sighs. “One might be all we get here. Let’s start packing up, but do it slowly.”

President and vice president begin to move their banners and pamphlets into backpacks, enjoying the single win they had that day.

***

Shinju Yuuma is many things: warrior, soldier, leader. Right now, she’s a mother, watching over her baby girl, Susumu, in the dining-cum-operating room of a back alley doctor’s apartment. And a mother has to be strong.

She hums a lullaby, her rugged face tender. She watches the pain leave Susumu’s face, finally able to sleep in peace. The operation had taken a lot out of her, full limb amputations have a way of doing that. Shinju’s eyes are drawn to the sutures connecting her daughter’s new robotic limbs to her original body. The doctor said they’d heal completely and invisibly, that there would be no complications. But Shinju knew there are always complications.

The doctor, a scarecrow of a woman in an oil-stained labcoat, washes her hands of blood, oil, and silver fluid in the kitchen sink. She calls out to Shinju in the dining room. “Coffee, Commander Yuuma?”

Shinju nods. “That’d be nice.”

“Will that be all, Commander? Would you like some snacks?”

Shinju waves her off. “Nah, nah. That’ll be enough fer now. Dismissed.”

“Yes ma’am!” The doctor salutes, wet hand over the insignia embossed on her lab coat. On her way to the coffee maker, she closes the curtain separating the young girl from her mother.

Shinju watches her make coffee, able to see everything that happens in the kitchen from where she is. “No need ta be so formal, Doc,” she says. “I’m in yer care here.”

“We’re all in your care, Commander,” the doctor says. “Treating your daughter’s illness and installing those cybernetic limbs are of the utmost priority.”

Shinju’s rugged face hardens. “I keep sayin’ ya ain’t gotta be all uptight round tha base wit’ me, ‘specially wit’ Susumu. Raight now I’m a mother an’ yer a doctor. Nothin’ more.”

The doctor bows her head. “My apologies Com...Miss Yuuma.”

Shinju sighs. “It’s a start.”

She feels her husband, Kazuhiko, hug her from behind. “Susumu’s really something special, isn't she?”

Shinju relaxes into the hug, allowing herself to shake from nerves. “She’s gotta be ta survive somethin’ like this.”

He holds Shinju tightly, burying his misty eyes in his wife’s shoulder. “She’s got guts, just like us. She’s a survivor, just like us. We got through gangs, cram school, and the Osaka University entrance exams. She’ll get through this.

“Neither of us did nothin' close ta becomin’ a cyborg, though...” She forces a confident chuckle. “G-guess we’re still fulla surprises, ain’t that right, Kazuhiko?”

Kazuhiko is silent. The doctor gives Shinju a complicated look.

Shinju puts her face in her hands. “...Like some kinda damn muscle eatin’ disease! A mom can tell how much pain her babies are in, ya know? My Susumu was sufferin’ so much, but she told me 'I'll make it through fer ya, momma!' before ya put ‘er under, doc! She’s tryin’ ta be strong fer me when it’s our fault she’s-”

“Don’t blame yourself,” he says sternly. “No matter what she may have gotten from us, we’ve given her so much love.”

“She's enterin’ high school, ya know,” Shinju says. “I damn near missed my baby growin’ up. An’ now, when most mommas just hafta deal wit’ their kids’ growin’ hair in places, my Susumu’s...”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop beating yourself up?” Kazuhiko interrupts her.

“You had the strength to take on this mission, Miss Yuuma.” The doctor says, pouring coffee for Shinju and Kazuhiko. “In my professional opinion, your daughter shares that strength.”

“What good is that if I’m not strong enough ta protect my daughter?” She leans forward, tears plopping on the table. “I didn’t even see ‘er graduate from middle school, but she wanted me ta be tha last thing she saw before she coulda died!”

Kazuhiko rests his head on the nape of Shinju’s neck. “She didn’t, and that’s what matters. Now have some coffee, dear. It’ll keep you sharp.”

The doctor hands Shinju a cup. “If I may speak freely, you should trust your doctor to take care of your daughter.”

She takes the coffee and smiles weakly. “I can't help bein’ worried.”

“It shows you care,” he says.

“Course I care!” Shinju yells. “No matter how much is on my plate, I'm still gonna give tha girl I brought inta this world 1000% of my love, ya know!” She downs her coffee and smiles fiercely. “Don’t look down on moms!”

The doctor looks at Shinju in bewilderment as she appears unaffected by the hot coffee.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make you smile,” Kazuhiko says, taking his own cup.

“All’s fair in love an’ war, huh?” Shinju puts her hands on her hips. “Well yer gambit worked, I’m cheered all tha way up. I wanted ta mull over how lucky we are.”

He places his cup down and pulls a letter from his pocket. “Speaking of which, Susumu got accepted into Zonzai.”

“Huh?” Realization dawns on Shinju’s face. “...Ya know it's just because Tanaka’s on their staff, right?”

“That's not what the letter says. Let me read it...” He takes the letter out. “Due to the extraordinary talents that Miss Yuuma possesses, we would be honored to have her attend our academy in the coming academic year. We look forward to seeing her as soon as she makes a full recovery. Until then, we will make accommodations for remote learning, including the delivery of materials and personalized instruction for Miss Yuuma.”

Shinju can’t help but feel proud. “They're really goin' out of our way fer us, huh? Tanaka’s real good at pullin’ strings.”

“You could at least pretend that the letter's praise is legitimate, Shinju.”

“Nah, Kazzy. Ya gotta be realistic ‘bout these things.”

“Realists don’t start paramilitary organizations, dear.”

Shinju's smile fades and her body tenses. “Maybe I ain't one, then. I’ll be whatever I hafta be in order ta give Susumu a bright future. All I hafta do is clean up tha mess they made at Yakumo.”

“There are messes everywhere.” Kazuhiko drinks his coffee slowly, taking the time to choose his next words carefully. “And it's not your duty to clean them all-”

Shinju stamps her foot, her combat boot makes a heavy thud on the cheap carpet floor. “Nobody else can! Nobody else can continue my squad’s mission! Nobody else can protect my daughter from tha terror we saw!”

“Susumu will have to,” he says, silencing her. “By virtue of her being in this room, from the surgery, with this letter. She’s as much a part of this as we are.” He takes a breath. “She adores you. Her face lights up like nothing else when you call. But she misses you. We miss you.” He looks at the curtain where Susumu is, then to Shinju. “Take care of your family before you take on the world. For everyone’s sake.”

The room goes silent, save the sound of their daughter’s soft snoring.

“...Ya know I can’t do that,” Shinju says through gritted teeth. “It’d be puttin’ y’all in too much danger.”

He hangs his head. “I know. But... if you ever get tired of fighting, we're both here for you. We always will be.”

Shinju lifts his chin up so she can look him in the eye. “When I’m finished, I promise I'll spend every wakin’ moment with y’all. Not even Satan himself can make tha Hellhound of Tennoji break ‘er promises.”

“That cocky side of you hasn’t changed since high school,” Kazuhiko says with a resigned smile. “Even with the weight of the world on it, your head remains unbowed.”

Shinju bows her head and passionately kisses her husband, pulling him into her by the collar. “Shinju Yuuma don't bow her head unless she’s kissin’ her man,” she says before approaching the curtain, and pulling it aside just enough to kiss Susumu on the forehead. “Or her baby.” She ruffles her mint green hair with a smile.

***

A high school girl with mint green hair smiles as she half-runs, half skips down the sidewalk.

It had taken everything she had to get to this point. The past year was a hell of rehab and class work. She was so drained every day she would fall asleep any time she had a moment to rest. But she kept smiling. She finished all her coursework (not with the highest marks). She shocked the doctors by recovering months ahead of schedule. She was faster, stronger, healthier than before.

She sees the school in the distance and breaks into a flat-out sprint, blowing past the other students walking to school. She could feel the excitement flow from her chest to her cybernetic limbs, as natural a part of her now as anything else. She would finally get to be in the classroom she had until now only seen through a screen. She screeches to a halt in front of the school’s gates, kicking up dust and rocks on the sidewalk and entryway. She stares, smile widening, transfixed by the vastness of the campus.

“You okay?” A student smart enough to have come from the opposite direction asks her.

“Yeh!” She answers, jittering with excitement. “It’s my first day!”

“I see…”

She notices the student’s yellow tie, “Second year?”

“Yes.”

“Cool! So am I!”

He scratches his head, “I don’t remember seeing you here last year. Who...are you exactly?”

She beams with pride and puts on a pair of aviator sunglasses. “Ironhead Suzaka Yuuma!”