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vergilsama922 · 4 months

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The Final Class of Senpai's arrive! The Finale of Hope's Peak Japan! Class 73!!!!

(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) Here we are. The FINAL Class of the year and of Hope's Peak Japan. Moving Forward I'll be working on a special class and when that's done i'll finally beginning on Hope's Peak Canada~ With the first two classes being: Danganronpa Dead End & Danganronpa Distrust. Anyway, to satisfy people like @mr-11037 this class is kinda a combination of "Leftover" characters. We have the PE teacher from the anime in the bottom left, the girl from the poster in chapter 2 of THH, Kumiko, and Kaoru from Heartless Deceit, Korisu from the Kirigiri novels, and the three girls in the center with the light blonde short hair, red dress woman and the doctor being from a manga image sent to me by @notpistol. You can find the image HERE

Also, a special cameo character is Motoko Kusanagi from Ghost in the Shell Filling as the Ultimate Soldier. (人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) Given how she got a great reception being with the egg, I'm relieved to make that decision. GitS is my favorite anime. Every school will only get ONE Cameo girl added to the harem. (人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) Anyways I hit a major milestone in finishing Hope's Peak Japan this year. Hopefully, I can finish Canada next year.

Also, Class 73 and 74-A are both available to download. Check my pinned post!

ENOUGH TALKING!!! LET'S GET TO THOSE GLORIOUS GLORIOUS PICTURES!!! Give it up for Class 73!

(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) And now time for Bios below~

Anna Hanasaki - Ultimate Doctor

In the pristine corridors of hospitals and the hallowed halls of academia, Anna Hanasaki was a name that commanded respect, not for the volume of her voice, but for the weight of her expertise. Known as the Ultimate Doctor even before her tenure at Hope's Peak Academy, Anna's journey was one marked by an insatiable quest for knowledge and an innate ability to heal. Yet, beneath the sterile surface of her professional accolades lurked a fierce germophobia that shaped her path in unexpected ways.

Anna was born into a lineage of medical professionals; her lineage was a tapestry of renowned surgeons and compassionate general practitioners. Her parents, both distinguished in their fields, instilled in Anna a profound respect for the sanctity of life and the complexities of the human body. But they also unknowingly passed on a legacy of fear—a relentless, all-consuming dread of the invisible menaces that threatened the very lives they worked so hard to save.

Her father ended up with an illness for a short period of time, while ultimately overcome, left an indelible mark on her psyche. The home that once echoed with discussions of medical breakthroughs became a silent battleground against unseen microbial invaders. Anna watched as her robust father, a pillar of strength and a beacon of medical excellence, was brought low by an enemy too small to see but too potent to ignore. This formative experience became the crucible that forged Anna's resolve. She delved into medical texts with a fervor, seeking to arm herself with knowledge against the microscopic threats. Her childhood bedroom transformed into a mini laboratory, a sanctuary where she waged war on germs with the might of science. And lots of hand wipes and hand sanitizer.

Her parents, though initially supportive, grew increasingly worried as Anna's vigilance turned to obsession. Her mother, a general practitioner known for her gentle bedside manner, tried to temper Anna's fears. "Germs are a part of life, Anna-chan," she would say, her voice a soothing balm. "We coexist with them, we understand them, and we protect against them when necessary. But we mustn't let the fear of them rule us." But Anna's resolve was unyielding. She would nod, feign understanding, and return to her studies and her rituals of cleanliness. Her parents' concern deepened as they watched their daughter retreat behind a mask, both literal and figurative, that shielded her from the world but also from the simple joys of childhood.

But from a young age, Anna was already captivated by the stories of medical marvels and miraculous recoveries that filled her home. Her playtime was not of dolls and tea parties but of microscopes and anatomy books. Her curiosity about the body's mysteries was insatiable, and her parents nurtured this thirst for understanding with a blend of pride and concern. Yet, as Anna's knowledge grew, so too did her awareness of the myriad pathogens lurking on every surface, in every handshake, in every breath. And so Anna did the one thing she was best at. She began to learn.

See, Anna is a polymath, her mind a fertile ground for every branch of medicine she encountered. While her peers dedicated themselves to pediatrics or marveled at the intricacies of neurology, Anna refused to be tethered to a single discipline. Her voracious intellect hungered for more, driven by a need to understand the microscopic foes she feared so deeply. From pharmacology to epidemiology, from genetics to immunology, her mastery grew, each new discovery a shield in her armory against the invisible threats.

By the time she entered middle school, Anna's brilliance was undeniable. She topped every science fair, her projects illuminating complex medical concepts with a clarity that belied her years. But her successes were overshadowed by her escalating fear of germs. Classmates who once admired her intellect now whispered about her compulsions—the gloves she wore to turn pages, the mask that never left her face, the sanitizer she applied with ritualistic frequency. In the clinical world of hypotheses and diagnoses, Anna's successes were like beacons in the night, guiding those lost in the complexities of medical science. By the time she was navigating the turbulent waters of middle school, her reputation had taken on a life of its own. She was the wunderkind who could unravel the Gordian knot of medical quandaries with the ease of a seasoned practitioner, her youth belying the depth of her understanding.

Anna's projects became the stuff of legend within academic circles; her science fair exhibitions were more akin to masterclasses, attended by educators and students alike, all eager to glean insight from her brilliant mind. Her project on the interplay of autoimmune diseases and genetic markers was not only groundbreaking but also indicative of a talent that refused to be caged by the traditional stages of education. But perhaps the most astonishing feat was her hands-on (With gloves of course) contribution to the local clinic. Under the watchful eye of the astounded medical staff, Anna, barely a teenager, displayed diagnostic acumen that rivaled their own. She consulted on cases, her keen eye catching symptoms and patterns that others missed, suggesting treatments that yielded results where there had been little hope. It was there, in the quiet triumphs of the clinic, that Anna found a semblance of acceptance, a place where her germophobia was not an eccentricity but an asset, sharpening her focus to a razor's edge.

However her parents, while proud of the medical marvel their daughter had become, were also deeply concerned about the personal costs of her phobia. They watched as Anna's world shrank to the spaces she could control, to environments she could sterilize. Her home became both sanctuary and fortress, a place where her fears were understood, if not fully shared. Her mother's gentle attempts to introduce normalcy were met with Anna's polite but firm resistance, her father's proud declarations about his daughter's accomplishments were tinged with an unspoken worry for her well-being.

Amidst this growing parental concern and Anna's unwavering routines, a fateful encounter would unfold. At a local business fair aimed at fostering young entrepreneurs, Anna met Kumiko Arase, a girl whose sharp mind and business acumen were already turning heads. Kumiko, too, was a student who stood apart, her ambitions and ideas painting her as someone destined for corporate battlefields rather than schoolyard games. Kumiko was initially unfazed by Anna's protective gloves and mask, seeing them as quirks of a fellow prodigy rather than the symptoms of a phobia. It was this lack of judgment that allowed a bond to form between them, a connection based on mutual respect and shared ambition. For Anna, Kumiko represented a peer who saw her for her intellect and not her fears, a friend who engaged her in discussions of medical advancements and entrepreneurial strategies.

For Kumiko, Anna was an enigma, a challenge to understand, and a potential ally in her future endeavors. She appreciated Anna's meticulous nature, her ability to dissect problems with surgical precision—an attribute Kumiko could well utilize in her business plans. Their friendship, though unorthodox, was built on a foundation of understanding and a shared vision of the future, where their talents could complement each other. Anna's germophobia, while still a significant part of her life, found a place within this new friendship. Kumiko, ever the strategist, helped Anna navigate social situations with minimal stress, arranging their meetings in meticulously clean environments, ensuring Anna's comfort without patronizing her. In return, Anna offered insights into the human side of business, a perspective that enriched Kumiko's understanding of her future clientele.

Their bond was a silent rebellion against the stereotypes that sought to define them: the isolated genius and the cold-hearted businesswoman. Together, they crafted a narrative of success rooted in empathy and precision, a narrative that was about to take an unexpected turn.

The incident that catapulted Anna into the spotlight was as unforeseen as it was fateful. During a school health crisis—an outbreak of a rare and virulent strain of flu—Anna's deep understanding of infectious diseases became the linchpin in a desperate fight against time. The corridors of the middle school had become a makeshift triage, echoing with the coughs and whimpers of the afflicted. The outbreak had struck swiftly, leaving the school's medical staff overwhelmed by the sheer number of cases. It was in this chaos that Anna Hanasaki emerged as an unexpected savior. Her voice, though muffled by the mask she religiously wore, carried the unwavering conviction of someone far beyond her years. Anna directed her peers with confidence, organizing the flow of patients, delegating tasks with precision, and providing clear instructions on hygiene protocols to prevent further spread of the infection.

Her interventions were ingenious, a blend of age-old practices and avant-garde methods. She had researched extensively on this strain of flu, even before it had reached the school's doors, and had devised potential treatment plans "just in case." Anna's preparations now paid off as she implemented a regimented schedule of antivirals, hydration therapies, and symptom management techniques that she had studied from various medical journals. Her approach was holistic, treating not just the illness but the patient as a whole, ensuring their comfort and easing their fears with her calm demeanor.

The school gymnasium, transformed into a makeshift infirmary under her guidance, became a beacon of hope. Anna, with her protective gloves always on, didn't shy away from close contact when necessary. She administered care, checked vitals, and comforted her schoolmates, her presence a reassuring constant amidst the uncertainty. Her actions didn't just mitigate the spread of the illness; they saved lives. In the midst of it all, Anna Hanasaki moved tirelessly, a sentinel in the silence of the night. Her protective gloves, a barrier between her and the world she so feared, became symbols of her unwavering dedication. Yet, beneath the surface, exhaustion gnawed at her, a relentless tide eroding the shores of her resolve. For days, sleep had been an elusive specter, glimpsed only in the briefest moments of rest between her vigilant rounds.

Kumiko Arase, though attending a different school, heard of the outbreak and Anna's heroic stand against it. Her entrepreneurial mind, always seeking ways to contribute to society, saw an opportunity not only to aid a friend in need but to invest in a better future. With a swift arrangement of her burgeoning resources, Kumiko directed professional medical staff to the school's doors, their arrival a cavalry charge led by the foresight of the future Ultimate…..err….Supreme Businesswoman. They swept into the gymnasium, their expertise a reinforcement to Anna's weary defenses, allowing her, at last, to succumb to the siren call of rest.

As Anna finally allowed herself to be led to a cot, her eyes fluttering shut in the first true sleep she'd had since the crisis began, whispers of her dedication began to echo through the halls of medicine across the country. Her exhaustive vigil and the impressive network of support she'd unknowingly built, thanks to Kumiko's swift action, painted the picture of a prodigy whose potential was as limitless as her compassion.

The media storm that followed wove a narrative of a girl who, in facing her deepest fears, had emerged as a beacon of hope. "Teenage Prodigy Battles School Epidemic" was not just a headline but a testament to a burgeoning legend. Anna's tireless work during the outbreak, her innovative approaches to medical care, and her collaborative efforts with professional healthcare workers showcased a maturity and a skill set far beyond her years.

In the aftermath, as the halls of her middle school returned to their mundane rhythms, Anna's name became a byword for young genius in the medical community. The doctors and specialists who had initially raised eyebrows at the notion of a child prodigy amongst them now nodded in respect at the mention of her name. Anna's interdisciplinary project, once the modest subject of a school science fair, was now discussed in earnest in medical symposiums and journals, her insights into autoimmune responses and genetic markers sparking debates and inspiring new lines of inquiry.

It was this combination of youthful ingenuity and a proven track record in a crisis that brought Hope's Peak Academy to her doorstep. Koichi Kizakura, with his keen eye for potential and his talent for discovering the exceptional, saw in Anna not just a future Ultimate Doctor but a symbol of hope and innovation for medical science. The invitation to join the ranks of the Ultimates was not merely a recognition of her past achievements; it was a challenge to rise to even greater heights, to push the boundaries of what was possible in medicine.

For Anna, the offer from Hope's Peak was a clarion call. It promised a future where her phobia need not define her, where her contributions could extend beyond the confines of her local clinic, where her dreams of revolutionizing medicine could take root and flourish. It was a future filled with promise, collaboration, and the excitement of the unknown. With the support of her parents and the friendship of Kumiko, who had become both a confidant and a partner in aspirations, Anna Hanasaki stepped forward into a new chapter, one that would be written in the annals of Hope's Peak Academy as the journey of the Ultimate Doctor.

Kaoru Yasunaga - Ultimate Detective

In the maze of Tokyo's relentless heartbeat, where hidden truths whisper from the depths of alleyways and behind the neon glow, Kaoru Yasunaga's life began as a silent ode to resilience. Her journey to becoming the Ultimate Detective of Class 73 was etched with the pain of early loss and the stark realization that the world was not the just and fair place she had once believed it to be.

Kaoru's parents were the embodiment of civic duty; her father was a dedicated public prosecutor and her mother a social worker, both tireless in their efforts to mend the fractures within their city's heart. They were the quiet heroes who fought not with capes or fanfare, but with steadfast commitment to the societal good, often taking on cases that others shied away from, defending the marginalized and upholding the pillars of justice.

Yet, their dedication drew the ire of those who lurked in the city's underbelly. It was an ordinary evening turned nightmare when the news came—a heinous crime that snuffed out the lives of those Kaoru held dearest. The details were sparse and shrouded in mystery, the kind of which suggested a deliberate silence. An apartment ransacked, a fire that blazed too fiercely to be an accident, and two bodies found—a scene staged to look like a tragic mishap but reeked of foul play. The investigation was swift, too swift, ending with more questions than answers, the case files closed and shelved, a convenient narrative spun and sold to the public.

Kaoru's days in the orphanage were a stark dichotomy of vulnerability and determination. She walked the halls with a stoicism that belied her years, her youthful features hardened by a resolve that was uncommon amongst her peers. Her grief did not render her immobile but propelled her forward, the memories of her parents' virtues the compass that guided her. She immersed herself in the world they left behind, not to just follow in their footsteps, but to carve her own path, one that would lead her back to the night that changed everything. She NEEDED answers.

However the orphanage that became her new refuge was a stark contrast to the warmth and light of her previous life. Here, the other children, too, bore their own scars, their eyes reflecting stories of loss and abandonment. But where they saw an end, Kaoru saw a beginning—a resolve forged in the cold fire of her grief. She turned her mourning into motivation, her bereavement into a battle cry for justice. She would often be found alone, not in sorrow but in study, her eyes poring over the fine print of criminal law books, each word a stepping stone to becoming the agent of change she aspired to be. The orphanage library became a sanctuary for Kaoru, the place where her transformation began. Dusty shelves lined with legal tomes and encyclopedias on criminology were her tutors in this self-made quest. She was often found nestled in a corner, her face lit by the afternoon sun filtering through the window, as she absorbed the knowledge that would arm her in the battles ahead.

It was during one of these afternoons, amidst the silence of the library, that she stumbled upon the tales of legendary detectives, both real and fictional. Figures like Sherlock Holmes and real-life sleuths such as Joseph Bell captivated her imagination. But it wasn't their fame that drew her—it was their methodical approach to unveiling the truth, their unwavering pursuit of justice. In their stories, she found her calling. The intricate dance of piecing together clues, of turning chaos into coherence, spoke to her on a visceral level. She began to emulate their analytical skills, their keen observation, and their indomitable spirit.

Kaoru's every waking moment was consumed with a singular, burning desire—to solve the mystery of her parents' untimely demise. The official reports were unsatisfactory, riddled with inconsistencies and convenient oversights. She knew in her heart that the truth was out there, obscured by the shadowy veil of corruption and fear. She vowed to herself and the lingering spirits of her parents that she would uncover the reality of that fateful night, no matter the cost. Her determination was a silent scream against the injustice, a promise to the souls crying out for vengeance from beyond the grave.

Her resolve did not go unnoticed. The caretakers, though initially wary of her obsession, came to support her ambition, recognizing that her pursuit was more than a child's fantasy—it was a survivor's lifeline. The head of the orphanage, a retired detective with a career's worth of cold cases and hard truths behind him, saw a spark in Kaoru that reminded him of his younger days on the force. He recognized the same unwavering gaze, the hunger for justice, and the innate ability to read between the lines of a case. Instead of tutors, he offered her mentorship, sharing his experience and guiding her through the mental labyrinths of criminal investigations. It wasn't long before he realized that her potential far exceeded the confines of their makeshift study sessions.

Seeing a need for a more formal education in the art of detection, he reached out to an old comrade, none other than Damon Gant, the Chief of Police, whose reputation for unorthodox methods and impeccable results was known throughout the law enforcement community. Gant, intrigued by the tales of a young girl with the makings of a true detective, agreed to meet her, to assess the extent of her talents and the resolve that fueled them.

Gant's tests for Kaoru were a rigorous regime of intellect and instinct. He began with staged crime scenes, each meticulously crafted to challenge her perception and analytical skills. She would arrive to find a tableau of clues and red herrings, and under Gant's scrutinizing gaze, she would start weaving through the labyrinth of evidence. He observed as she picked apart each scenario, her mind working like a maestro conducting an orchestra, each piece of evidence another note in the crescendo of deduction. Sometimes Gant would introduce witnesses, actors trained to deliver their testimonies with a blend of truth and falsehood. Kaoru learned to listen for the subtle dissonances in their stories, the slight hesitations, the too-quick denials. She honed her interrogation techniques, her questions sharp and probing, yet delivered with a calm that belied her age. Gant watched her draw out the truth from a web of lies, her natural empathy disarming the most practiced deceptions.

Physical tests followed, where Gant would assess her ability to follow a suspect undetected, or to escape when the tables turned, and she became the hunted. Kaoru's agility and resourcefulness came to the fore in these exercises, her slight frame an asset in the shadowy dance of surveillance and evasion. But it was the psychological evaluations that truly tested her mettle. Gant presented her with moral quandaries, cases with no clear right or wrong answer, designed to challenge her ethical compass. Kaoru grappled with these dilemmas, her convictions tested, her beliefs questioned, but never abandoned. In these moments, Gant saw the depth of her commitment to justice, her willingness to confront the ambiguity that lay at the heart of many crimes.

All the while, Gant was laying breadcrumbs, hints of the larger forces at play behind her parents' murder. He watched as Kaoru's eyes picked up on these subtle cues, as the gears in her mind began to turn, connecting distant dots that hinted at a conspiracy much larger than she had imagined—a shadowy influence that had its hands in more than just petty crime, an organization that operated with impunity: the Yakuza.

Damon Gant's relationship with Kaoru's parents had been one of mutual respect and shared goals. As upstanding citizens who had worked closely with law enforcement to promote justice and integrity, their loss had not just been a tragedy for Kaoru but a personal blow to Gant as well. They had collaborated on initiatives to curb the reach of organized crime, making their untimely deaths all the more suspicious, and their case a silent stain on his conscience. As he mentored Kaoru, Gant quietly continued his own investigation, piecing together a puzzle marred by corruption and betrayal. His position as Chief of Police granted him access to resources, but it also exposed the rot within—officials who had been bought off, evidence that had been conveniently misplaced, and a trail of breadcrumbs leading back to the Yakuza. It was a dangerous path to tread, one that had claimed the lives of Kaoru's parents and threatened anyone who dared to venture too close to the truth.

In Kaoru, Gant saw not just a protégé but a beacon of hope for the future. Her passion for justice was untainted, her approach uncorrupted by the politics and payoffs that had ensnared so many others. He admired her tenacity, her willingness to stand up for what was right, even when it meant standing alone. Gant knew that nurturing this fire within her was critical—not only for her development as a detective but for the future of justice in Japan. He taught her the importance of empathy in their line of work, that understanding the human element was as crucial as solving the crime itself. He watched with pride as Kaoru developed an ability to connect with victims and witnesses, to see beyond the facts and figures, and to recognize the human story at the heart of each case.

As Kaoru's mentor, Gant became a guardian of her potential, shielding her from the darker forces that would seek to snuff out her light. He was preparing her for a battle that he knew all too well—a battle against a hidden enemy, one that lurked in the shadows of power and influence. But more than that, he was grooming her to be his successor, someone who could carry on the fight for justice when his time had passed. Kaoru's growth under Gant's tutelage was a testament to her strength of character. She wasn't just learning the tools of the trade; she was learning to navigate the treacherous waters of a world that was far more complex than she had ever imagined. And as she grew, so did her resolve to uncover the truth about her parents' death, to bring their killers to justice, and to honor their memory by becoming the embodiment of the values they had instilled in her. In this journey, Gant was her mentor, her protector, and her ally in the quest for a justice that seemed increasingly elusive. Of course that also meant Gant needed her to go to school and socialize with those her age.

Middle school for Kaoru Yasunaga was a landscape of cold hallways and distant echoes of laughter that never quite reached her. While her classmates concerned themselves with the latest school gossip or upcoming festivals, Kaoru's mind was often elsewhere, entrenched in the latest case study or forensics report. This disconnect between her and her peers was palpable; they saw her as an enigma, a girl whose gaze seemed to pierce through the superficial layers of teenage drama to something deeper, something urgent. Her reputation as an orphan occasionally made her the target of cruel jests, whispered mockingly behind her back or sometimes brazenly to her face. They dubbed her "Detective Ghost," a moniker meant to deride her solitary nature and her relentless pursuit of an intangible truth. But Kaoru bore these jibes with the same stoicism that carried her through the loss of her parents. Each barb only strengthened her resolve, each taunt a somber reminder of the mission that consumed her.

It was in this environment of isolation that Kaoru and Kumiko Arase's paths converged. Kumiko, with her sharp business acumen and unflappable demeanor, recognized a kindred spirit in Kaoru's solemn dedication. Perhaps it was the shared experience of being set apart from their peers, or maybe it was the silent understanding that they both aspired to more than what their current confines offered. At least on Kumiko's end what she saw in Kaoru wasn't just a person destined for greatness but for Supremacy. Regardless, a bond formed between them, one built on mutual respect and a shared drive for excellence.

Kumiko became the ally Kaoru never knew she needed. Their friendship was an oasis for Kaoru, a respite from the loneliness that had marked her life. Kumiko did not pity Kaoru; instead, she offered a partnership of equals. She respected Kaoru's past and supported her quest, all the while providing a sounding board for her theories and, when needed, a check against her more obsessive tendencies. Together, they became an unstoppable force. Kaoru's analytical prowess complemented Kumiko's strategic mind, and vice versa. They were each other's confidantes, the only ones privy to the other's ambitions and fears. As they walked the school corridors, they were no longer just the orphan and the business prodigy; they were a united front, poised and ready to take on the world.

In the midst of her burgeoning friendship with Kumiko, Kaoru's talent as a detective began to shine brighter than ever. Her innate ability to unravel mysteries, previously nurtured in the shadows, now found a more public platform. She became the go-to person for resolving disputes and uncovering truths in the complex social landscape of middle school. From tracking down lost personal items to exposing petty thefts, her peers began to see her not as a ghostly outcast, but as a beacon of hope and justice. Kaoru's most significant achievement at least in her school, however, came when she single-handedly unraveled a complex case of academic dishonesty that had plagued the school for months. Her meticulous attention to detail, combined with an unyielding pursuit of the truth, led her to uncover a network of students manipulating test scores. The resolution of this case not only restored fairness but also cemented her reputation as an exceptional detective.

Damon Gant, watching her progress from afar, couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. He had always known that Kaoru had the makings of a great detective, but seeing her apply her skills in real-world scenarios and watching her grow not just in talent but in character was more than he had hoped for. He was particularly pleased to see her form a meaningful connection with Kumiko, knowing that a detective's journey can be a lonely one without allies and friends. Damon, recognizing the untapped potential in Kaoru, decided it was finally time to introduce her to the realities of detective work beyond the schoolyard. Initially, he assigned her small, seemingly inconsequential cases—lost items, minor frauds, and the like. These were tests, designed to gauge her adaptability and acumen in real-world scenarios. To his delight and slight surprise, Kaoru tackled these tasks with a fervor and efficiency that surpassed even his expectations.

Her natural talent for observation, coupled with a methodical approach to problem-solving, quickly led to resolutions of these minor mysteries. She displayed a keen eye for detail and a remarkable ability to connect seemingly unrelated dots, piecing together narratives that others missed. Encouraged by her success, Gant began to involve her in more serious cases. He was careful to shield her from the more dangerous aspects, but he also knew that to truly hone her skills, she needed to be exposed to the complexities and nuances of significant criminal investigations. Under his guidance, Kaoru began to assist in cases involving theft, fraud, and even some that bordered on white-collar crime.

In each instance, Kaoru demonstrated not only an impressive intellect but an emotional maturity that belied her years. She handled each case with a level of professionalism that earned her the respect of Gant's colleagues. Her ability to empathize with victims, to understand the human element behind each crime, made her insights invaluable. One particular case stood out—a string of burglaries that had baffled the police for weeks. Kaoru approached it with her usual diligence, meticulously combing through evidence, and interviewing witnesses. It was her insight into the pattern of the burglaries, noticing a detail that everyone else had overlooked, that eventually led to the apprehension of the culprits. It was a turning point, both in the case and in her journey as a detective.

The success of the burglary case marked a pivotal moment in Kaoru's development as a detective. Seeing her potential fully realized, Damon Gant made a bold decision. He began involving Kaoru in more complex and darker cases, including those involving murder. It was a significant step, one that exposed her to the grim realities of human nature and the severity of crime. Gant refrained from offering direct advice, choosing instead to observe how she navigated these treacherous waters on her own. Kaoru, faced with the gravity of these cases, rose to the challenge. Her approach was methodical and thorough, her observations sharp and insightful. She demonstrated an uncanny ability to get into the mindset of both the victim and the perpetrator, constructing narratives that brought clarity to chaos. Her work on a particularly convoluted murder case, involving a web of deceit and betrayal, showcased her talent in its full glory. Kaoru pieced together the puzzle with such precision that it led to a breakthrough that had eluded seasoned detectives for months.

Impressed by her remarkable acumen, Gant facilitated her appointment as an unofficial liaison for the police force. This role granted her access to resources and information that were previously beyond her reach and placed her in a unique position to influence investigations. Kaoru's reputation within law enforcement circles grew, and she became known as a young detective with an old soul—an individual whose insights were sought after in the most perplexing cases.

Working these murder cases did more than just bolster Kaoru's credentials; they honed her understanding of the intricacies of human behavior and the often-blurred lines between right and wrong. It also brought her face to face with the harsher realities of her chosen profession, tempering her idealism with a dose of pragmatism. But they also served a secondary purpose as well.

The relentless pursuit of justice for her parents' untimely demise became the silent undercurrent of Kaoru's every action. As she delved deeper into the world of crime-solving, tackling murder cases with a tenacity that belied her years, a singular goal remained etched in her mind – to uncover the truth behind the Yakuza's involvement in her family's tragedy. Kaoru's focus on Yakuza-related cases was more than a professional choice; it was personal. Each case she worked on, each criminal network she helped dismantle, brought her a step closer to understanding the shadowy world that had claimed her parents. Her natural empathy for victims was coupled with a steely resolve to uproot the corruption and violence that the Yakuza represented. This dual nature of her work, however, did not go unnoticed by Damon Gant.

As her mentor and protector, Gant watched with a mix of pride and concern. He admired her dedication and her ability to navigate the complexities of such dangerous cases. Yet, he couldn't help but worry about the toll it was taking on her. The closer Kaoru got to the truth, the more dangerous her path became. The Yakuza were not just common criminals; they were a deeply entrenched organization with far-reaching influence and a penchant for ruthless action against those who threatened their operations.

Gant often found himself cautioning her, reminding her of the importance of not letting her quest for vengeance consume her. "Justice, not revenge," he would say, his voice a firm reminder of the thin line she was walking. But Kaoru's determination was unshakable. Each Yakuza case she cracked, each piece of the puzzle she put together, fueled her resolve. She was building a repertoire of skills and knowledge that she believed would eventually lead her to those responsible for her parents' deaths. And all of this would lead to a fateful and inevitable incident.

The incident that propelled Kaoru into the limelight of Hope's Peak Academy, while also putting her life in grave danger, was a daring operation against the very Yakuza group responsible for her parents' deaths. It was a meticulously planned sting operation, born from months of relentless investigation, piecing together scattered evidence and cryptic leads. Kaoru had managed to trace financial transactions and covert communications back to a seemingly legitimate business front that was, in reality, a cover for the Yakuza's illegal activities. She worked tirelessly, often through the night, her room littered with maps, photos, and documents that formed a web of conspiracy and deceit.

On the night of the operation, the air was thick with tension. Kaoru, accompanied by a select team of officers handpicked by Damon Gant, descended upon the location. The operation was risky; the Yakuza were known for their brutality, and they wouldn't hesitate to eliminate anyone who posed a threat to their empire. As they breached the premises, a fierce confrontation ensued. The Yakuza were prepared, having been tipped off by a corrupt insider. Bullets flew, and shouts filled the air. Kaoru, amidst the chaos, focused on her objective - to capture the ring leaders and gather enough evidence to dismantle their operations.

In the heat of the moment, as she navigated through the dangerous maze of the Yakuza hideout, Kaoru came face to face with the man who had ordered her parents' murder. The recognition was instant, a face she had seen countless times in photographs and surveillance footage. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear, anger, and a burning sense of justice. The confrontation with the Yakuza leader was a culmination of years of pent-up anger and determination for Kaoru. In the dimly lit room of the Yakuza hideout, time seemed to slow as she faced the man responsible for her parents' deaths. Her heart raced, fueled by a cocktail of adrenaline and deep-seated vengeance. As they engaged, it was more than just a physical struggle; it was a battle of wits, each trying to outmaneuver the other.

Kaoru, though younger and less experienced in hand-to-hand combat, compensated with her agility and sharp reflexes honed under Gant's rigorous training. She dodged a lethal swipe, her movements precise and calculated. The Yakuza leader, underestimating her, left himself open for a fraction of a second. It was all Kaoru needed. With a swift, practiced motion, she disarmed him, but not before a stray knife caught her side, a sharp pain that would later bloom into a severe wound.

As the Yakuza members were rounded up, Kaoru's vision began to blur, her body finally acknowledging the injury. She collapsed, her last thought one of triumph mixed with an overwhelming exhaustion.

In the aftermath, Kaoru became a celebrated figure. Her courage and skillful handling of the operation were the talk of the police force. However, the person least impressed was Damon Gant. When he visited her in the hospital, his face was a mask of conflicted emotions. "You did well, Kaoru," he said, his voice gruff, "but you're no good to justice if you're dead. Your parents wouldn't have wanted this for you." His words were stern, but his eyes betrayed his pride in her. Kumiko's visit was equally poignant. She entered Kaoru's hospital room with a stern expression that softened upon seeing her friend in the hospital bed. Sitting beside her, Kumiko took Kaoru's hand. "You're the bravest person I know," she began, "but even heroes need to know their limits. Promise me you won't do something this reckless again." Her voice was firm, but her concern was evident. It was a moment of vulnerability for both, a reaffirmation of their bond and a reminder of the stakes involved in their chosen paths.

The hospital room, usually a place of quiet recovery, was abuzz with the energy of change when Koichi Kizakura stepped in. He carried with him an air of determination, his eyes reflecting a plan that had been long in the making. He approached Kaoru's bedside, his expression serious yet tinged with a hint of excitement.

"Kaoru Yasunaga, your actions have not only brought you into the limelight but also onto the radar of Hope's Peak Academy," Koichi began, his voice steady. "Jin Kirigiri and I have been following your journey closely. Your skills, your dedication to justice… they align with a challenge we're facing—a challenge that requires someone of your unique talents and moral compass."

Kaoru, still recovering, listened intently. Her experiences had honed her ability to discern sincerity, and she found it in Koichi's words.

"The Steering Committee of Hope's Peak… they're not what they seem," Koichi continued, his voice lowering. "There are layers of corruption, deep-seated issues that threaten the very foundation of what the Academy stands for. We need someone who can unravel this web, someone who values truth and justice above all. And we believe that person is you." Kaoru's mind raced. The Steering Committee was a powerful entity, one that she had heard of but never encountered directly. The thought of infiltrating such a complex structure was daunting, yet it ignited a familiar fire within her. This was more than just a school invitation; it was a call to arms, a chance to combat injustice at its very core.

"Help us, Kaoru," Koichi implored. "Help us cleanse the rot within Hope's Peak. You'll have resources, support, and the freedom to operate as you see fit. This could be your greatest case yet—the case of Hope's Peak Academy itself."

Kaoru looked towards Damon, who had been quietly listening. In her mentor's eyes, she saw a reflection of her own resolve. Turning back to Koichi, she nodded slowly, a mixture of determination and resolve etching her features. "I'll do it," she said, her voice a whisper but laden with the weight of her decision. "For justice, for truth, and for a future where corruption no longer hides in the shadows."

Thus began Kaoru's journey as the Ultimate Detective of Class 73 at Hope's Peak Academy, a journey that would test her intellect, her courage, and her heart in ways she had never imagined. The path ahead was shrouded in mystery and danger, but Kaoru Yasunaga was no stranger to either. With her unwavering pursuit of justice and a newfound camaraderie with her classmates both old and new, she was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Korisu Kakitsubata - Ultimate Physicist

In a quiet suburb overshadowed by the bustling metropolis of Osaka, Korisu Kakitsubata's story began in the modest home of her aunt, a single woman of science and a high school physics teacher. Her mother, a bright star in the field of astrophysics, had vanished into the night sky she so loved, leaving behind a legacy of questions and a young daughter with a boundless universe to explore. Why did her mother leave her? Who was her father? Was Korisu responsible for being delivered to her aunt? Was it someone else?

Korisu's childhood unfolded within the precise, ordered confines of her aunt's home—a place where scientific principles were not just taught, but lived. Her aunt, a steadfast high school physics teacher, dedicated herself to instilling a love of science in her niece, seeing in Korisu the ember of her sister's brilliance. However, as Korisu grew, so too did her fascination with fashion, a stark contrast to the world of equations and experiments her aunt held dear.

The friction between them sparked like static electricity—Korisu, drawn to the glimmer and shimmer of runway shows, and her aunt, who saw in the girl's academic prowess a potential that stretched beyond the superficial allure of the fashion industry. Her aunt's attempts to steer Korisu towards textbooks and telescopes often clashed with Korisu's growing collection of Vogue magazines and sketchbooks filled with her designs. In the social microcosm of school, Korisu shone brightly, her natural charm and keen fashion sense positioning her firmly within the coveted circle of popular girls. It was a world away from the orderly sanctuary of her aunt's home, a realm where she could bask in the glow of adolescent adoration without the shadow of academic expectation. To maintain her status, Korisu deliberately dimmed her intellectual light, playing the role of the carefree gyaru with an ease that belied the conflict within.

At home though….well….

Korisu's relationship with her aunt began to strain under the weight of unspoken truths and unacknowledged genius. The more Korisu embraced the glitter of the fashion world, the more she felt her aunt's disappointment—a silent storm brewing in the undercurrents of their daily interactions. Their conversations, once filled with the curious inquiries of a budding scientist, now danced around the more trivial aspects of teenage life, leaving both with a sense of loss neither wished to admit. As Korisu's star ascended in the hallways of her school, her home life waned into the shadows. She started to resent her aunt's persistent silence on the subject of her parents, her mother's absence a gaping hole in her heart that fashion and physics could not fill. This unspoken barrier grew into a chasm of frustration, with Korisu left to navigate the confusing labyrinth of her identity without a guide.

"Why won't you tell me about them?" Korisu would demand, her voice a mixture of anger and desperation, only to be met with her aunt's stoic deflection, a change of subject, a redirection to homework or chores. It was in these moments that Korisu felt most alone, her vibrant exterior masking the turmoil of a girl caught between the world she was building and the one she was given.

Her aunt, for all her stoicism, battled her own demons—guilt for keeping the past shrouded in mystery, fear that the truth would drive a wedge too deep to remove. She saw Korisu's potential, recognized the echoes of her sister's brilliance in her niece's eyes, but feared that revealing the painful history of their family would snuff out Korisu's light. So she remained silent, choosing to protect Korisu from a past that held as much pain as promise, not realizing that in her silence, she was losing her niece to the very superficiality she hoped to shield her from.

The decision to bridge the growing gap between them came too late for Korisu's aunt. She had resolved to lay bare the family's past, to unveil the truths that she had long kept hidden. But fate had other plans. On her way to what she hoped would be a reconciliation, a tragic accident struck—a misstep on a rain-slicked pavement leading to a fall that would confine her to a wheelchair, her body paralyzed but her mind as sharp as ever.

The news hit Korisu like a tidal wave, sweeping away the frivolous concerns of her social life and leaving in their wake a desolate beach of guilt and remorse. She blamed herself for the accident, her aunt's condition a stark reflection of the emotional paralysis that had gripped their relationship. The vibrant, carefree girl who had charmed her way through school corridors was nowhere to be found, replaced by a somber figure who sat by her aunt's hospital bed, holding a silent vigil.

In the sterile quiet of the hospital room, amidst the beeping of machines and the hushed footsteps of nurses, Korisu found a sobering clarity. Her aunt's love for science, her dedication to her niece's future—these were not burdens but gifts, ones that Korisu had taken for granted. As she watched her aunt struggle with the new reality of her condition, Korisu's heart filled with a resolve to make amends, to honor the woman who had given her so much and asked for so little in return. Korisu's aunt, even in the face of her own adversity, recognized the crossroads at which her niece stood. "Korisu, my dearest girl," she whispered, her voice strained but clear, "you mustn't let my accident dictate your path. You have a brightness in you that belongs to neither science nor the sparkle of the stage alone—it's uniquely yours."

"But Auntie," Korisu replied, her voice thick with unshed tears, "I need to do this. For you, for everything you've sacrificed."

Her aunt reached out, her hand trembling but her touch firm. "My sacrifice means nothing if it robs you of your joy. Be the vivacious spirit you are, embrace the glitter and the glamour if they call to you. But don't turn away from the curiosity that burns in your heart, the love of discovery that I've seen in you since you were a child. You can shine in both worlds, my child. Balance is not just a principle of physics; it's a way to live." Korisu's resolve wavered in the face of her aunt's wisdom. The dichotomy she had lived with, the division between her two worlds, suddenly seemed an unnecessary burden. She realized that the persona she had adopted at school was not a facade to be discarded, but a part of her as real and as valuable as her intellectual pursuits.

The transformation in Korisu was not just a change of heart, but a renaissance of the mind. As she returned to her studies, the principles of physics that she had once held at arm's length now drew her in, whispering secrets of the universe in a language she was eager to learn. It was as if her brain had been rewired, ready to make connections that previously eluded her.

The same acumen that had made her a star among her peers for her fashion sense now illuminated her path in the world of science. Her questions in class were no longer just perfunctory; they were probing, insightful. Her experiments in the lab, once a chore, became exhilarating explorations of cause and effect. The laws of thermodynamics, the intricate dance of particles, the unfathomable depths of quantum mechanics—these were no longer chapters in a textbook but vibrant, living riddles, and Korisu reveled in the joy of solving them.

Her aunt, once a solitary figure steadfastly guiding her niece from the sidelines, now became an active participant in this journey of discovery. They spent evenings discussing the latest developments in particle physics, the conservation of momentum, or the peculiarities of wave-particle duality. Each concept Korisu mastered was a triumph, each formula she memorized a victory not just for her intellect, but for the bond that now grew stronger between them. In the quiet sanctuary of her aunt's adapted study, where physics textbooks lined the shelves like sentinels of knowledge, Korisu and her aunt delved into nightly dialogues that stretched the boundaries of understanding and familial connection. It was in these sacred hours, amidst the hum of thought and the scratch of pencil on paper, that they truly became a team.

"Explain to me again," Korisu would say, her brow furrowed in concentration, "how the uncertainty principle affects our observation of particles."

Her aunt would smile, her own passion for the subject matter reignited by the fervor of her niece. "It's a dance, Korisu," she would begin, her hands moving in a delicate ballet to illustrate her point, "between what we know and what we can measure. The more precisely we try to pinpoint where a particle is, the less we know about its momentum, and vice versa. It's the universe's way of maintaining its mysteries, even as we try to unravel them."

Korisu's eyes would light up with the thrill of comprehension, the elegance of the science weaving itself into her understanding. Their discussions often ventured into the abstract realms of theoretical physics, where Korisu's once-hidden intellect now ventured fearlessly. She grappled with concepts like entanglement and superposition, her agile mind wrapping around the complexities with a speed that left her aunt in awe.

To her aunt's astonishment, Korisu began contributing her own hypotheses to the conversations, her insights bearing the weight and depth of a seasoned physicist. She connected the microscopic world of quantum mechanics to the cosmic scales of astrophysics, pondering the forces that shaped the stars and galaxies. Her aunt watched, pride swelling in her chest, as Korisu penned equations that spoke of a mind capable of not just understanding but advancing the field of physics.

Their relationship, once strained by silence and unasked questions, flourished in this new environment of shared curiosity and intellectual pursuit. They became more than family; they were collaborators in the grand quest to decode the universe. Korisu's aunt marveled at the young woman blossoming before her, a prodigy who bridged the worlds of scientific discovery and personal expression with a grace she had never anticipated.

Amidst the electric pulse of scientific discovery, Korisu became a phenomenon that captivated the staid world of physics. At a science symposium, she stood out not just for her unconventional Gyaru appearance but for the audacity of her intellect. Her presentation on the potential interdimensional implications of quantum entanglement left the room in a stunned silence, followed by a thunderous applause that echoed through the halls. She had not only grasped the intricate nuances of string theory but had also proposed an original model that challenged the established norms. In the months that followed, she swept through academic competitions with the finesse of a seasoned physicist, her theories on cosmic inflation and the origins of the universe drawing attention from the highest echelons of the scientific community. Journals that were once resistant to publishing the work of a middle schooler now clamored for her latest paper, recognizing the brilliance that shone through the playful flip of her hair and the sparkle of her nail polish.

Her dual identity as a Gyaru and a scientific prodigy became the subject of articles and debates, shattering stereotypes and inspiring a new wave of young scientists who saw in her the embodiment of a truth they had longed to believe: that passion, not appearance, defines one's capabilities. As her theories began to gain traction, invitations to speak at international conferences and universities poured in, each requesting the honor of her presence and the privilege of discussing her groundbreaking work. Korisu's journey was a vibrant blur of accolades and achievements, yet she remained grounded, her aunt's influence a constant reminder that the pursuit of knowledge was a journey, not a destination. She wore her Gyaru style as a badge of honor, a visual symphony that accompanied the profound music of her mind. The physicist community, once skeptical, now regarded her with a mix of fascination and respect, eager to see how the girl who had so boldly entered their world would continue to reshape it.

Korisu's world, already a kaleidoscope of scientific triumphs and Gyaru glamour, was about to be turned on its head with the arrival of Koichi Kizakura. Kizakura, with his keen eye for talent, recognized in Korisu not just a prodigious physicist but a key to a past shrouded in mystery and intrigue—a past intertwined with the infamous Bible Plan. Before Kizakura could reveal his true intentions, he insisted that Korisu's aunt unveil the truth about her parents, a truth that had been buried under years of silence and secrets. It was a conversation laden with emotional gravity, one that unfolded in the quiet of their living room, where Korisu's journey had begun.

Her aunt's voice trembled as she delved into the past. Korisu learned of her parents pivotal role as one of the chief researchers in the Bible Plan, a visionary project aimed at creating an AI capable of bringing hope to despairing people. But the dream turned into a nightmare when the AI backfired, leading to a catastrophic incident that claimed her father's life—a sacrifice made to protect his wife, Korisu's mother. Korisu's mother, once a vibrant figure in the field of astrophysics, was now a shadow, living in hiding, haunted by the tragedy and driven by the fear that her daughter might be pulled into the dangerous vortex that still swirled around the remnants of the Bible Plan. Korisu listened, her heart aching with each revelation, the pieces of her fragmented past slowly knitting together to form a picture steeped in pain, sacrifice, and undying love.

Korisu's aunt, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, reached across the chasm of revelations to plead with her niece. "Korisu, you must understand, your mother wanted a life of peace for you, away from the shadows of the Bible Plan. Accepting this offer from Hope's Peak could put you in danger, make you a target for the Steering Committee. This isn't the path she envisioned for you." Korisu, her resolve hardened by the truth, faced her aunt with a steely determination that mirrored the brilliance of her parents. "Auntie, I've lived half my life in the dark, playing a role that wasn't entirely me. This… this is my chance to step into the light, to understand who my parents were and what they fought for. I need to do this, not just for them, but for myself."

Her aunt's concerns were rooted in love, but Korisu knew that her path lay beyond the safety of ignorance. The allure of uncovering her parents' legacy, of embracing the full scope of her identity, was too powerful to ignore. "I will be careful, I promise. And with Mr. Kizakura's help, I'll finally get to meet Mom. It's time I learned the whole story, from her."

Koichi Kizakura, witnessing this exchange, nodded in understanding. He assured them both, "I'll do everything in my power to keep Korisu safe. And I'll arrange for her to meet her mother. It's a reunion that's long overdue." Korisu, her spirit buoyed by the weight of her newfound purpose, turned to face her future with a fervor that was as brilliant as it was unwavering. Her decision to attend Hope's Peak Academy wasn't just about unraveling her family's past; it was also about harnessing her own potential for a cause that was deeply personal.

"I want to use their technology, their resources," Korisu stated, her voice imbued with a newfound determination. "Hope's Peak has some of the most advanced research facilities in the world. If there's any chance, any possibility that I can find a way to help you, Auntie, I have to take it."

Her aunt, still grappling with her own fears and the weight of her condition, saw the undeniable spark in Korisu's eyes. It was the same spark that had driven her sister, Korisu's mother, in her relentless pursuit of knowledge and discovery. Despite her reservations, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for the remarkable young woman her niece was becoming.

Korisu continued, her words painting a picture of hope amidst their shared uncertainty. "I'm not just going there to uncover the secrets of the Bible Plan or to meet Mom. I'm going for us, for our family. I want to use what I learn to make things right, to fix what's been broken. That's my promise to you."

In that moment, the path forward became clear for both Korisu and her aunt. The journey to Hope's Peak Academy was not just a journey towards the unknown; it was a journey fueled by love, determination, and the unbreakable bond of family. For Korisu, it was a chance to blend her passions for physics and fashion, her intellect and creativity, in a way that could potentially bring healing and closure to the scars of their past.

As Korisu prepared to step into the halls of Hope's Peak, her heart was set ablaze with the possibilities that lay ahead. She was ready to confront the challenges of her family's legacy, to explore the frontiers of science, and to carve a path that could lead to healing and hope. Her journey at Hope's Peak was set to be more than an academic pursuit; it was a quest for personal and scientific revelation, a testament to her resilience and her relentless pursuit of a brighter future. And it didn't hurt that she would also have access to top of the line makeup and fashion brand~

Kumiko Arase - Ultimate Supreme Businesswoman

Kumiko Arase was born into a world of affluence and privilege, her life a canvas of high expectations and the finest things society had to offer. The Arase family, known for their expansive business empire, were pillars of the Japanese elite, their influence extending from the sparkling streets of Tokyo to the highest echelons of global power. Yet, within the golden cage of luxury, young Kumiko developed a disdain for the very opulence that surrounded her. Rather she came to a realization.

Kumiko's epiphany came early, as she witnessed her family's business empire face a hostile takeover by rivals. It was a brutal lesson that etched itself into her consciousness—the realization that wealth was not just comfort, it was control. Power dictated narratives, shaped societies, and decided fates. Her family, once unassailable, found themselves at the mercy of those with deeper pockets and fewer scruples. The fallout was devastating. The Arase household, once filled with laughter and the clinking of expensive glassware, turned into a somber shadow of its former self. For Kumiko, the change was more than just environmental—it was transformative. She saw her parents, once titans of industry, reduced to chess pieces on a board controlled by invisible hands. The sight ignited in her a burning ambition, a vow etched into her very soul: she would amass power, become untouchable, and ensure no one could ever pull the strings of her fate again.

The Arase family's empire was a conglomerate that spanned multiple industries, a testament to their versatility and business acumen. At the heart of it all was Arase Technologies, a company renowned for its pioneering advancements in robotics and artificial intelligence. The company's innovations had not only revolutionized the tech industry but had also catapulted the Arase name to dizzying heights of prestige and influence. The hostile takeover was not just a battle of assets and shares; it was a war of ideologies. Kumiko's parents had always operated on the principles of innovation for the betterment of society, a vision that extended beyond mere profit. However, their rivals, driven by greed and the relentless pursuit of wealth, saw Arase Technologies as nothing more than a golden goose. The ensuing corporate struggle tore at the fabric of the Arase family, with boardroom betrayals and legal battles overshadowing once-cherished familial bonds.

Kumiko, who had grown up idolizing her parents' achievements, felt a deep sense of betrayal—not just by those who sought to dismantle what her family had built but also by her parents' apparent naivety in the face of corporate predation. Her relationship with them grew strained, the once implicit trust eroding as she began to question their ability to navigate the treacherous waters they found themselves in. As the empire slowly crumbled, Kumiko's resolve solidified. She would not fall victim to the same pitfalls. Her parents' downfall became a cautionary tale from which she would forge her doctrine of power—absolute control, unyielding authority, and a ruthless pursuit of a world order under her dominion. Power controls everything. And without money and information you can't protect anything. Let alone yourself.

From her earliest memories, Kumiko was acutely aware of the divide between the haves and the have-nots. She observed the casual indifference of the elite towards those less fortunate, their lives treated as mere footnotes in the grand narrative crafted by the powerful. This disregard wasn't always blatant; often, it was cloaked in the guise of benevolence or masked by charitable gestures. But to Kumiko, it was transparent. She saw the patronizing attitudes, the token efforts that did little to address the root causes of societal disparities.

Kumiko's insights into the elite's machinations revealed a chilling truth about the extent of their predatory capitalism. She observed, with a growing sense of revulsion, how these power brokers manipulated markets and policies with a callous disregard for human life. Their strategies were not just about gaining a competitive edge; they were often ruthlessly engineered to maximize profits at any cost, even if it meant endangering lives.

She saw examples of this in industries where safety protocols were deliberately overlooked to cut costs, leading to accidents and loss of life. Pharmaceutical companies suppressed adverse findings about their drugs to keep them on the market, prioritizing profit over patient safety. Environmental regulations were routinely flouted, poisoning air and water, while the perpetrators evaded accountability through their connections and influence.

These were not isolated incidents but part of a systemic rot—a culture of greed that pervaded the highest echelons of power. Kumiko witnessed how lobbyists and special interest groups bought influence, how laws were tailored to benefit the few at the expense of the many. The elite's greed knew no bounds; they exploited resources, labor, and even entire economies to swell their coffers, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

The more she delved into this world, the more she understood the depth of its depravity. It was a realm where human life was a line item on a balance sheet, where suffering was weighed against stock prices, and moral considerations were secondary to shareholder value. The elite, in their ivory towers, were disconnected from the realities of those whose lives they impacted, insulated by their wealth and power.

This predatory capitalism was not just about accumulating wealth; it was a game of dominance, a demonstration of power for its own sake. The wealthy elite didn't just want to be rich; they wanted to be untouchable, operating above the laws and ethical standards that governed ordinary people. How could human beings with the capability of doing good be so rotten? How could so much resources be squandered and horded? Why did they simply do nothing or make things worse when they had the capacity to fix the world? And why is it those with real power are rotten and corrupt? They didn't deserve their power. Their right to sit on the throne. It was this realization that fueled Kumiko's resolve to upend the status quo. She understood that to combat this level of corruption, she needed to be more than just successful; she needed to wield power in a way that could bring about real change. Her ambition was no longer just about building a business empire; it was about dismantling a system that allowed such unchecked greed and callousness to thrive.

For Kumiko, her crusade against corruption transcended personal vendetta. It evolved into a deeply-rooted commitment to upend a system rife with exploitation. Her determination to dismantle the corrupt elite was driven by a vision to create a world where power and wealth served the greater good, rather than being wielded as instruments of oppression. This was not merely about retribution; it was about forging a new paradigm of ethical leadership and responsible stewardship.

This profound sense of purpose found its roots early in Kumiko's life. From a young age, sequestered in the quiet corner of her family's library, she immersed herself in the world of business and economics. With an intensity that belied her tender years, she absorbed the intricacies of market trends, the subtleties of negotiation tactics, and the ruthless strategies that dominated the corporate battlefield. Her insights into the pervasive nature of corruption in these realms only fueled her resolve. By the age of eleven, driven by a desire to initiate change, she launched her first venture, EOS. This fledgling tech startup, symbolically named after the dawn, represented her aspiration for a new era—an era where innovation and ethical practices could coexist and flourish.

EOS started humbly, initially as an online platform that connected budding inventors with potential investors. It was a digital incubator that sought to nurture the seeds of innovation unfettered by the traditional corporate chokehold. Kumiko's intuitive grasp of the digital landscape, coupled with her keen eye for potential, allowed EOS to flourish. She became known not just for her sharp business acumen but for her ability to spot talent and opportunity where others saw none. Both in school and in the boardroom. Of course given that she was a child she had to operate through her parents.

EOS’s growth was meteoric, and it soon expanded beyond its initial scope. Under Kumiko's leadership, it delved into the development of educational software, tools for digital creators, and even a crowdfunded initiative for renewable energy technologies. Each successful project funded by EOS not only furthered technological progress but also served to cement Kumiko's reputation as a visionary far beyond her years. However an unexpected development ended up happening. Perhaps it was fate? Maybe just sheer chance? The adoption of a certain analyst. Izanami Hoshimiya.

The Arase household welcomed Izanami Hoshimiya with open arms, an orphaned child whose analytical prowess was evident even in her early years. Kumiko, ever the astute judge of character and potential, recognized immediately that Izanami was someone special — a kindred spirit whose talents complemented her own ambitions. As EOS expanded, so too did their sibling synergy; Izanami's insights and analytical acumen became a cornerstone of the company's strategic planning, her ability to dissect data patterns and market trends proving invaluable.

Izanami, for her part, found in Kumiko not just a sister but a mentor. She was in awe of Kumiko's drive and vision, her ability to take calculated risks that always seemed to pay off. The two formed a dynamic duo, with Izanami's analyses informing Kumiko's decisions, leading EOS to new heights of innovation and influence.

Their parents, initially wary of Kumiko's rapid ascent in the business world, were soon converted into her staunchest supporters. They marveled at her ability to command boardrooms and negotiate deals with a maturity that belied her age. Yet, it was their daughters' partnership that truly allayed their concerns. They saw in Kumiko and Izanami a shared purpose and a mutual respect that transcended their individual ambitions. The Arase family, once fractured by corporate strife, found unity and strength in their daughters' endeavors.

As EOS grew from a fledgling startup into a powerhouse of innovation, Kumiko's parents couldn't help but swell with pride. They had witnessed their daughter's transformation from a bright-eyed child playing in the corridors of power to a formidable woman shaping the very future of those corridors. And as for Kumiko, she knew that the combination of her leadership and Izanami's analytical prowess was not just the secret to her success but also a tribute to the legacy of resilience and brilliance that her family had always represented.

Meanwhile the world of high-stakes business was a chessboard to Kumiko, and she played it with a master's precision. Her desire for control was not born out of greed but a fervent wish to cleanse the corruption she saw festering at the heart of society's elite. To her, power was not an end but a means to an end—the end being a world where the shadows cast by those in high places could no longer obscure the truth or oppress the innocent. With Izanami's uncanny ability to forecast market trends and unravel the complexities of data analytics, Kumiko embarked on a campaign of strategic acquisitions. She targeted companies not only for their profitability but for their potential to serve as weapons against the underbelly of the corporate world. Each buyout was a calculated move, each merger a step towards the conglomerate that would serve as her instrument of justice.

Kumiko's methods were ruthless but effective. She had a keen eye for a company's pressure points, whether it was a stock price vulnerable to manipulation or executives weary of battle. Competitors who stood against her often found themselves outmaneuvered in hostile takeovers or reluctantly joining forces with EOS under the guise of "strategic partnerships." Kumiko didn't just want to own these companies; she wanted to steer them, to align them with her vision of an equitable society.

Rumors of her relentlessness were whispered with a mix of fear and respect in boardrooms across the country. Her peers learned to tread lightly around EOS, for crossing Kumiko could spell the downfall of even the most established corporate empires. Yet, those who knew her understood that her quest was not for personal glory. Kumiko saw herself as a custodian of the future, a guardian against the rot of corruption. She was building something greater than a mere business; she was constructing a new paradigm, an empire of ethics, where the talented could rise based on merit and the disadvantaged could find support in the shadow of her wings.

In the quest for such power, Kumiko remained ever vigilant, knowing that the path she walked was fraught with peril, both for her and those she held dear. But the drive that propelled her forward was unwavering—a drive fueled by the conviction that only when held in the right hands could such immense power be used to right the wrongs and rewrite the rules that had for too long governed the world. Some may call her a control freak or power hungry but she would gladly bear the brunt of their accusations if it means keeping them safe from the rampant corruption that permeated the wealthy.

However Kumiko herself would never say she did or does everything by herself. During her middle school years, before the halls of Hope's Peak Academy, Kumiko Arase's presence was already formidable. Her business acumen and maturity were evident even then, setting her apart from her peers. It was in this setting that she crossed paths with Kaoru Yasunaga and Anna Hanasaki.

Kaoru Yasunaga, who attended the same middle school, was a contrast to Kumiko. While Kumiko was a force in the budding world of business, Kaoru was quietly making a name for herself in the realm of investigation. Their paths often intersected, and though their worlds were different, there was a mutual respect born from the understanding that they were both driven by deeper purposes than their peers. Kumiko saw in Kaoru not just someone who reaches for excellence, someone who is destined for far greater things like herself but also a geniuine friend.

The meeting with Anna Hanasaki happened at a science and innovation fair, an event that drew young talents from across the region. Kumiko was there scouting for promising projects and young minds to invest in through her burgeoning EOS platform. Anna, presenting a complex medical project, caught Kumiko's eye. Her meticulous research and innovative approach to medicine resonated with Kumiko's own philosophy of nurturing talent and using resources for societal advancement. The interaction, though brief, left an impression on both. For Kumiko, Anna represented the kind of genius EOS aimed to support, while for Anna, Kumiko embodied the potential of what resources and backing could do for scientific endeavor.

Kumiko Arase's mastery extended beyond the corporate battlefield; she was equally adept at crafting her public persona. In the eyes of the public, she was the epitome of grace, wisdom, and benevolence—a beacon of hope in a world mired in corporate greed and ethical ambiguity. This image was meticulously constructed and carefully maintained, a necessary façade that served both her ambitions and her genuine desire to be a force for good.

In her public appearances, Kumiko exuded a warmth and understanding that belied her ruthless business tactics. She was often seen at charity events, educational initiatives, and public forums, speaking eloquently about the responsibility of the privileged towards society and the role of talent and innovation in shaping a better world. Her speeches were not just words; they were backed by the substantial work EOS was doing in various fields, from technology and education to environmental sustainability. Kumiko understood the power of perception and the importance of public support. She believed that a true leader, a "Supreme" as she saw herself, must command the hearts and minds of the people. To her, this was not merely a strategy for amassing power but a fundamental aspect of her vision for a better society. She saw herself as a guardian of the future, a steward of hope, and she embraced the role with a zeal that was both inspiring and intimidating.

Behind the scenes, however, Kumiko's approach was more calculating. She recognized that public support was a currency as valuable as any financial asset. It was a shield against her adversaries and a tool to further her agenda. In her quest to root out corruption and reshape the elite, winning over the public was as crucial as any corporate acquisition or technological breakthrough. Her persona as a wise and benevolent figure was a carefully crafted armor, protecting her and her ambitions, even as she maneuvered through the shadowy corridors of power.

In this complex tapestry of public adoration and private ambition, Kumiko moved with a precision that was almost surgical. She was a paradox—a ruthless businesswoman and a beloved public figure, a harbinger of change and a beacon of stability. And in this duality, she found her strength, her purpose, and her path to becoming the Supreme she believed herself to be.

However Kumiko's meteoric rise was not without its adversaries. Her aggressive business strategies and unyielding ambition made her a target for those who felt threatened by her expanding empire. Among these were the shadowy figures of the Kamakura family, an influential and enigmatic group with deep roots in the world's elite. The Kamakuras operated from behind the scenes, their influence far-reaching yet almost invisible. Kumiko, with her keen eye for detail and deep understanding of power dynamics, recognized them as a formidable foe, one that required a delicate and strategic approach.

Another notable rival was Tenma Hosaka, her future classmate and the Ultimate Heiress in Class 73. Tenma, born into wealth and power, represented the old guard of the elite that Kumiko sought to challenge. Their rivalry began as a battle of wits and resources, with each trying to outmaneuver the other in the intricate dance of high society and business. Despite their animosity, there was a grudging respect between them, an acknowledgment of each other's talents and determination.

As Kumiko's empire grew, it became a behemoth in the global economy. Her control extended over various sectors, from technology and finance to media and healthcare. EOS, once a humble platform, was now at the heart of a vast network that touched nearly every aspect of daily life. With over 9% of businesses on the planet under her influence, Kumiko had achieved a level of power that was unprecedented. This immense control, however, came with its own set of challenges. The more she expanded, the more visible she became to those lurking in the shadows of power. The Kamakura family, in particular, viewed her as a disruptor, a potential threat to the delicate balance they had maintained for generations. Kumiko was aware of the target on her back, but it did not deter her. Instead, it fueled her desire to build a world where talent and innovation trumped inherited power and corrupt dealings.

Behind the elegant façade of the benevolent businesswoman, Kumiko was a master strategist, constantly playing a high-stakes game of chess with forces that most could not fathom. Her ambition was not just to be a part of the elite but to redefine it, to create a new order where corruption and nepotism had no place. In this quest, she was relentless, her every move calculated to bring her one step closer to her vision of a world governed not by the whims of a few but by the collective potential of the many.

Kumiko Arase, upon being approached by Koichi Kizakura for recruitment into Hope's Peak Academy, responded with the poise and confidence that had become her trademark. She acknowledged the prestige of being designated as an Ultimate, but to her, the title was merely a stepping stone, a minor accolade on her path to achieving something far greater. "An 'Ultimate' is a term too confined for the likes of me," she told Kizakura with a wry smile, "I am destined to be a Supreme, a force that reshapes the very foundations of society."

Kumiko was well aware of Hope's Peak Academy's interest in her, just as she was aware of the deeper currents that ran beneath its esteemed reputation. She knew about the investigations into the Steering Committee, the clandestine group that held sway over much of Hope's Peak's darker dealings. Her disdain for such corruption made her a natural ally in Kizakura and Jin Kirigiri's quest to cleanse the institution of its rot.

"I will join you at Hope's Peak Academy," Kumiko declared, "not for the honor of being an Ultimate, but for the opportunities it presents. I will use this platform to extend my reach and to help dismantle the corruption that plagues this academy and the elite that seeks to control it from the shadows."

Her agreement to join Hope's Peak was thus twofold: it was a chance to spread her influence within an institution that groomed the future leaders and innovators of the world, and it was an opportunity to align with those who shared her disdain for the corrupt machinations of the Steering Committee. Kumiko saw this alliance not just as a means to an end but as a strategic move in her grand plan to purify the ranks of the world's elite and to carve out a world where merit and talent reigned supreme.

In Kumiko's eyes, her time at Hope's Peak would be a valuable chapter in her ascent. She would network with the brightest minds, influence the future leaders, and, most importantly, use the resources and information at her disposal to further her own goals. She entered Hope's Peak with a clear vision, ready to play the long game, a game where she was not just a participant, but a mastermind, a Supreme in the making, determined to leave her indelible mark on the world. And afterwards? She will focus on building her OWN version of Hope's Peak. A school dedicated to properly bringing out the supreme talent within people.

Motoko Kusanagi - Ultimate Soldier

In a quiet corner of Sapporo, far removed from the clamor of military barracks and the rigid discipline of defense training grounds, Motoko Kusanagi's story began. Her parents, while not soldiers themselves, were integral to the fabric of Japan's defense sector. Her father, a brilliant engineer, devoted his life to developing technology for Japan's Self-Defense Forces, while her mother, a skilled linguist, worked in intelligence, deciphering codes and intercepting crucial information. Their home was a hub of intellectual rigor, blending technological innovation with the art of strategy and communication.

She was a child whose laughter echoed in the halls of their home, a place where the lines between a nurturing family environment and a hub of intellectual activity blurred seamlessly. Her parents, recognizing the spark of brilliance in their daughter, fostered her curiosity and encouraged her playful exploration of their world. Motoko's home was alive with the hum of computers and the whispers of hushed conversations about international intelligence. Evenings were often spent with her father, tinkering with circuit boards or lost in the world of virtual reality he was helping to pioneer. Her mother, with a linguist's love for communication, would teach her the nuances of foreign languages, turning each lesson into a game that left Motoko hungry for more.

This early exposure to a world of technology and strategy did not impede the joys of childhood; rather, it enriched them. Motoko's imagination was fueled by the endless possibilities that her parents' work presented. She grew up believing that she could reach the stars her mother spoke of in hushed tones or build the fantastical machines her father sketched on scraps of paper.

That is until that fateful day.

The day that changed Motoko's life forever started like any other. She was aboard a plane with her parents, a routine flight that she had taken countless times before. Her father was busy reviewing documents while her mother chatted with her about the stars they'd soon be flying past. Motoko, nestled in her seat, was absorbed in a book about coding, her mind dancing with the possibilities of creating her own virtual worlds. As the plane ascended, there was a sudden, violent shudder that coursed through the aircraft. The calm hum of the engines was replaced by an ominous cacophony of alarms and panicked voices. Her father's hand reached out, gripping her mother's, a silent message of love and fear. Motoko, frozen in terror, could only watch as the world she knew disintegrated around her.

The crash was catastrophic. The plane, having suffered a critical mechanical failure, plummeted towards the earth. In those final moments, Motoko's parents did everything they could to shield her, their bodies forming a protective cocoon around their daughter. When the rescuers arrived, amidst the twisted wreckage and chaos, they found Motoko – miraculously alive but trapped in the embrace of her parents who had sacrificed their lives to save hers. The aftermath of the crash was a blur of hospitals, sympathetic faces, and a numbing grief that threatened to swallow Motoko whole. She emerged from the tragedy physically intact but emotionally shattered. The bright, inquisitive child who had once seen the world as a place of endless wonder was now a shell, her spirit broken by the loss of everything she had ever known and loved.

In those long, dreary days that followed the crash, Motoko found herself adrift in a sea of sorrow and confusion. Hospital rooms became her refuge, the beeping of machines a constant reminder of her survival – a survival that felt more like a sentence than a blessing. She was surrounded by people, yet enveloped in an impenetrable solitude. The faces that peered in at her were kind, filled with a sadness that was meant to be empathetic, but to Motoko, they were just distant echoes of a world she no longer felt a part of. Nightmares haunted her sleep, replaying the crash in vivid, terrifying detail. She would wake up gasping, the echoes of her parents' voices lingering in her ears, their protective embrace felt like a phantom comfort. The hospital staff, well-meaning in their efforts, could not breach the wall of grief that surrounded her. Their words, meant to console, often fell on deaf ears, as Motoko retreated further into herself, her eyes reflecting a void that seemed to consume the light around her.

Her days were marked by a monotonous routine of therapy sessions, bland hospital meals, and long periods of staring out the window, watching the world move on without her. Laughter and chatter from other rooms felt like distant, alien sounds to her. She was an island in a stream of life that flowed around her, untouched and unreachable. This isolation was broken only by the arrival of Daisuke Aramaki, who entered her life with a presence that was both imposing and comforting. Aramaki, a friend of her parents and a figure of authority in the military community, approached her with a gravitas that demanded attention. He spoke to her in a way that no one else had since the crash – not as a helpless child to be pitied, but as a survivor, as someone who had endured the unthinkable and still remained standing.

Aramaki's visits became the only moments that pierced her veil of grief. He didn't offer empty platitudes or false hope. Instead, he shared stories of her parents, of their courage, their brilliance, and their unwavering dedication to their duty. He painted a picture of a life that was about more than just loss – a life that could be about honor, purpose, and the continuation of a legacy that her parents had left in her hands.

Aramaki's visits, though a balm to her wounded spirit, also ignited in Motoko a burning desire. She had grown up hearing of Section 9, the elite tactical unit her parents often spoke of in hushed, reverent tones. To her, Section 9 was more than just a military unit; it was a symbol of the ideals her parents had lived by—strength, integrity, and the relentless pursuit of justice. It was this legacy she now yearned to be a part of, to carry forward the torch of her parents' unfulfilled aspirations.

One day, with a determination that surprised even herself, Motoko voiced this desire to Aramaki. His reaction was a mix of astonishment and concern. "You want to join Section 9?" he asked, his voice tinged with a complexity of emotions. To him, the idea of this young girl, still reeling from her loss, stepping into the world her parents had left was unfathomable. "Your parents… they wouldn't have wanted this life for you. The life of a soldier is no life for the daughter they loved so dearly."

But Motoko's resolve was unshakable. "It's because of them I must do this," she insisted, her voice steady. "I need to be a part of something bigger, to fight for what they believed in. I can't just move on and forget. I need to honor them, their memory, their sacrifice." Aramaki saw in her eyes a reflection of her parents' indomitable spirit, and he knew then that her decision was not a mere whim of a grieving child, but a deeply considered choice born from a place of profound respect and love. He realized that to deny her this path would be to deny the very essence of who she was and who her parents had raised her to be.

In a decision that would alter the course of her life, Aramaki agreed to guide her, but not towards Section 9, not yet. She was too young, and the world of Section 9 was too perilous for someone her age. Instead, he proposed an alternative: Unit 501, a group that would provide her with the training and discipline she sought, under the watchful eye of someone he trusted implicitly—Batou.

Batou, a seasoned member of the unit, took on the role of her mentor and big brother figure. Under his tutelage, Motoko began her transformation into a soldier. The training was grueling, pushing her to the limits both physically and mentally, but she met each challenge with the stoicism and determination that had become her trademark. Batou, impressed by her resilience and grit, fostered her skills, recognizing in her a kindred spirit and a promising future soldier.

Her days in Unit 501 were a rigorous blend of intense physical training and mental fortitude. Batou, recognizing the raw potential in Motoko, pushed her beyond her limits. She learned to maneuver through grueling obstacle courses, mastered hand-to-hand combat, and honed her strategic acumen in simulated missions. Each drop of sweat, each moment of exhaustion, was a step towards becoming the soldier she aspired to be. But it wasn't all about combat and strategy. Batou insisted on a well-rounded education. Motoko attended regular classes, delving into subjects that complemented her military training. She excelled in strategic studies and international relations, her academic prowess reflecting the disciplined focus she applied to her military training. Her dual life as a student and a soldier was challenging, but she navigated it with a determination that impressed both her instructors and peers.

In the corridors of her middle school, Motoko walked a solitary path, a contrast to the camaraderie she found in Unit 501. Her classmates saw in her a withdrawn figure, someone who moved through their midst like a shadow, present but always distant. The intensity of her training and the depth of her studies left little room for the typical trappings of adolescent life. Her peers, engrossed in their own worlds of teenage dramas and fleeting interests, found it difficult to connect with the stoic, disciplined girl who seemed so far removed from their experiences.

Motoko's withdrawn nature wasn't born from disdain or arrogance; it was a byproduct of a life shaped by loss and a singular focus on her mission. The chasm between her and her classmates was not just one of experiences but of perspective. Where they saw a schoolyard, she saw a training ground; where they engaged in idle chatter, she strategized and planned. This disconnect meant that friendships, a normal part of growing up, were a foreign concept to her. She observed her classmates from a distance, not out of superiority, but from a place of quiet introspection, unsure of how to bridge the gap between her world and theirs.

Yet, amidst this isolation, Motoko's training in Unit 501 continued to cultivate her skills in a myriad of ways. Psychological resilience was another cornerstone of her training. Batou knew that the life of a soldier was as much a mental battle as it was physical. He guided her through exercises designed to strengthen her mental resolve, preparing her for the emotional rigors of the life she had chosen. Perhaps the most challenging aspect of her training was learning to integrate with her fellow cadets. Initially, Motoko's reserved nature set her apart, but as time passed, she learned the value of camaraderie and teamwork. She forged bonds with her peers, understanding that trust and cooperation were critical in high-pressure scenarios. These experiences in Unit 501 began to subtly influence her interactions at school, gradually bridging the gap between the disciplined soldier and the introspective student.

However her training was far from done. Motoko's journey within Unit 501 took her through the rigorous and demanding realms of advanced military training. Her days began before dawn, with physical conditioning that pushed her body to its limits. The grueling regimen of running, calisthenics, and strength training was designed not just to build her physical prowess but to instill a sense of discipline and resilience.

Firearms training became a regular part of her schedule. Under Batou's watchful eye, she learned to handle a variety of weapons with precision and confidence. The firing range was a place where she channeled her focus, each shot a testament to her growing skill and steadiness. She practiced relentlessly, mastering everything from basic handguns to more complex rifles, becoming adept at quick target acquisition and accurate, controlled shooting. Urban warfare training introduced her to the chaotic and unpredictable nature of combat in dense, urban environments. Here, she learned to navigate narrow alleys, breach buildings, and clear rooms. These exercises were intense, simulating real-life scenarios that required quick thinking, adaptability, and strategic foresight. She learned the art of moving stealthily, using the environment to her advantage, and making split-second decisions that could mean the difference between success and failure in a real operation.

Working in a squad was perhaps one of the most crucial aspects of her training. It taught her the importance of relying on others, of being a part of a cohesive unit where each member played a vital role. She learned to communicate effectively, coordinate strategies, and trust her teammates implicitly. The camaraderie that developed within her squad was a new experience for Motoko, offering a sense of belonging that contrasted sharply with her solitary nature. She felt for the first time in a long while that she had a sense of purpose.

In a mock training exercise designed to mimic the complexities of real-world operations, Motoko Kusanagi's talents came to the forefront, distinguishing her from her fellow cadets in a way that would mark a turning point in her journey.

The exercise was a simulated war game, set in a sprawling, abandoned urban area that had been meticulously prepared to replicate a hostile environment. The objective was straightforward yet challenging: secure critical points, neutralize enemy threats, and extract safely. The catch? The 'enemy' was composed of advanced combat instructors and select senior cadets, all seasoned in the art of warfare and tactics. It was a test designed to push the cadets to their limits, both physically and mentally.

From the outset, Motoko demonstrated a level of proficiency that caught the attention of her instructors and peers alike. Her movements were precise and calculated, her strategic thinking several steps ahead of the unfolding scenario. She led her squad through the urban maze with a calm authority, her decisions clear and effective.

But it was in the heat of the simulated combat that Motoko truly shined. Amidst the chaos of simulated gunfire and the tension of close-quarters combat, she maintained an almost eerie composure. Her actions were fluid, her tactical acumen apparent in every maneuver and command. She anticipated enemy movements, adapted to changing circumstances, and made bold decisions that turned the tide in her team's favor. The climax of the exercise was a critical point capture, where Motoko's squad faced a near-impossible task of overtaking a heavily fortified position. It was here that her leadership and tactical genius became undeniable. Coordinating her team with precision, she devised an ingenious plan that utilized a feint attack, creating an opening that allowed her squad to breach the enemy defenses and secure the objective.

The exercise concluded with Motoko's squad achieving their objectives with zero 'casualties,' a feat that earned them high praise from the instructors. The debriefing session turned into an acknowledgment of her exceptional performance, with several instructors noting that her abilities were not just remarkable for a cadet but were on par with experienced soldiers.

This event marked a significant milestone in Motoko's military training. It demonstrated not only her skills as a soldier but also her potential as a leader. Her performance in the mock training mission didn't go unnoticed; it was a catalyst that led to her being considered for an actual mission, a rare opportunity for a cadet, but one that her instructors believed she was uniquely qualified for. This mission, unknown to Motoko at the time, would serve as the final test of her capabilities and a gateway to her future at Hope's Peak Academy. Alongside meeting a couple of interesting people.

Motoko's first real mission was meant to be a controlled, low-risk operation, a chance for her to apply her training in a real-world scenario under the watchful eye of Batou and other experienced operatives. Daisuke Aramaki, despite his initial reservations, had conceded, trusting Batou's judgment and Motoko's abilities. The plan was simple: a routine surveillance operation in a quiet, low-threat district, with Batou and a team of seasoned agents as backup.

The mission, which took Motoko beyond the borders of Japan for the first time, was in a bustling Southeast Asian city. Hanoi, Vietnam. It was a different world from what she knew, a canvas of diverse cultures and unpredictable elements. The assignment in this foreign urban landscape was meant to be observational, a way to test her adaptability and situational awareness in an unfamiliar environment. Motoko, despite being in a foreign land, adapted quickly. She navigated the crowded streets with a keen eye, blending in with the locals, her training allowing her to move with a sense of purpose yet remain inconspicuous. The city's vibrant chaos was a stark contrast to the ordered discipline of her life in Unit 501, but she found herself drawn to its energy, her senses absorbing every detail.

The calm of the mission was abruptly disrupted when the insurgents, a rogue element that had slipped through the intelligence network, made their unexpected appearance. The situation escalated rapidly, turning a routine surveillance into a crisis. The insurgents, heavily armed and seemingly prepared for a confrontation, posed an immediate threat to the crowded city street. Motoko's decision to intervene was not just a tactical choice but a moral one. Trained as a soldier, she was also acutely aware of her responsibility to protect innocent lives like her parents did for her. Her intervention was precise and effective, her actions a blend of the discipline instilled in her by Unit 501 and her innate sense of justice. She maneuvered through the urban terrain, using her surroundings to her advantage, neutralizing the threat with minimal collateral damage.

The mission's end found Motoko in a quiet alleyway, away from the chaos that had erupted on the streets. In her hand was a weapon, still warm from use, its presence a stark testament to the reality she had just faced. It was there, in the dim light, that Batou found her, her expression one of somber realization. The insurgent she had been forced to neutralize lay motionless nearby, a life extinguished by her hand. It was a necessary action in the heat of the moment, a decision made to save others, but the gravity of it weighed heavily on her young shoulders.

Batou, his features etched with concern, approached her slowly. He had seen many soldiers face this moment, the first taking of a life, but seeing Motoko, who he had come to view as a younger sister, in this situation stirred a deep unease in him. "Motoko," he began, his voice low, "you did what you had to do. It's never easy, but remember — you saved lives today." Motoko's response was a quiet nod, her eyes still fixed on the fallen insurgent. She understood the necessity of her actions, yet the reality of having taken a life, even in the line of duty, was a burden she had never envisioned at such a young age. The finality of it, the irreversible consequence of her decision, was a stark awakening to the demands of the path she had chosen.

The incident that led to Motoko's first real engagement was a pivotal moment, not just in her career but in her personal development. The emotional aftermath was significant, and Aramaki, ever mindful of the well-being of his charges, insisted on mandatory counseling for Motoko. It was crucial, he believed, for her to process the events properly and to understand the psychological impact of such experiences. Batou, despite his usual tough exterior, supported this decision wholeheartedly. He knew all too well the internal battles that soldiers faced after their first kill, battles often harder than those fought in the field.

The counseling sessions peeled back the layers of Motoko's stoic exterior, revealing the tumultuous sea of emotions that churned beneath. Each session was a deep dive into the uncharted waters of her psyche, where she grappled with the stark realities of the life she had chosen. The guilt of having taken a life weighed heavily on her; it was a burden that pressed down on her with the gravity of the finality of her actions. In these moments, she confronted not just the soldier she was becoming but the human being she still was.

Fear, too, was a constant companion in these introspective journeys. Fear of losing herself in the abyss of warfare, of becoming numb to the value of human life, and of the possibility that one day she might not feel the weight of her actions. These were the shadows that lurked in the corners of her mind, whispering doubts and uncertainties.

But perhaps the most profound emotion she faced was the sense of loss — a loss of innocence, a loss of a part of herself that could never be reclaimed. It was a somber realization that each life taken on the battlefield was a story ended, a universe of possibilities extinguished. This acknowledgment brought with it a profound sorrow, a mourning for the lives lost, including a part of her own.

Through these sessions, Motoko learned to navigate these emotional landscapes, to accept and process them as part of her reality. She emerged from each meeting a little stronger, a bit more prepared for the challenges ahead. The counseling did not harden her; instead, it gave her a deeper understanding of her own humanity. It reminded her that feeling these emotions, wrestling with these moral dilemmas, was what separated her from being merely a tool of war. In acknowledging her vulnerabilities, she found her strength — the strength to carry on, to face the next mission, and to uphold the values that she had sworn to defend.

As Motoko's reputation within Unit 501 grew, so too did the scope of her missions. She began to undertake increasingly complex operations, often finding herself at the forefront of tactical planning and execution. Her analytical mind and unerring instinct for strategy quickly earned her the respect of her peers. It was Batou who first jokingly referred to her as 'Major', a nickname that soon caught on within the unit. Though it began in jest, the title reflected the burgeoning leadership qualities they all saw in her, despite her youth.

The moniker 'Major' became synonymous with Motoko's presence on the battlefield. She was a leader not by rank, but by merit, guiding her team through fraught situations with a calmness that belied her age. Her ability to assess, adapt, and command in the heat of action was nothing short of remarkable. This growing prowess inevitably led her into the orbit of FENRIR, an elite special forces unit known for their ruthless efficiency.

FENRIR's methods and philosophy were a stark contrast to Motoko's. Where she valued strategy and precision, they often favored brute force and sheer firepower. Among their ranks was a young soldier named Mukuro Ikusaba, who, like Motoko, had shown exceptional talent at a young age. Their paths crossed during joint operations, where they were often forced to work in tandem. The interaction between the two was marked by a mutual respect for each other's abilities, but also a palpable tension. Motoko, who had always approached her duties with a certain moral code, found FENRIR's approach distasteful, often clashing with Mukuro over their differing views on how to execute missions. Despite this, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the necessity of their collaboration in achieving common goals.

And it helped that the few times Motoko did run into Mukuro on the battlefield, whether fighting with or against her, she always tried her best to give her insight on things. To have confidence in herself and to be able to take command. To see her fellow soldiers as allies and that she too was a human being and not simply an expendable cog. And the most important advice she ended up giving Mukuro later on was to go see her family and to stop running from her actions.

And so as Motoko's experiences in the field deepened, so did her understanding of the complexities of military life and the often murky moral waters she had to navigate. Each mission, each decision, added another layer to her character, shaping her into a soldier whose name would soon be whispered with a mixture of awe and fear in military circles. The 'Major' of Unit 501 was no longer just a young cadet with potential; she was a force to be reckoned with, a symbol of both the hopes and the heavy burdens of those who walk the path of the soldier.

The recognition of Motoko's skills and achievements reached its zenith when she was scouted by Hope's Peak Academy. Daisuke Aramaki, seeing the opportunity for her to expand her horizons and gain new experiences, encouraged her to accept. He saw it not only as a chance for her to grow academically but also to interact with peers outside the rigid structure of the military. He also had a more profound revelation for her, a promise that upon her graduation, a place in the esteemed Section 9 would be waiting for her.

The news was a beacon of hope for Motoko, a validation of her hard work and dedication. However, it was Aramaki's next revelation that shook her to the core. He disclosed the harrowing truth behind her parents' death: they were collateral damage in a covert operation targeted at a rogue researcher involved in the Bible Plan, a project with ties to the Steering Committee of Hope's Peak Academy. The researcher had threatened to expose the Committee's illicit activities, and in the ensuing attempt to silence him, her parents' plane was caught in the crossfire.

Aramaki's revelation about the true nature of Motoko's parents' death left her reeling, yet it also sharpened her focus. The mixture of guilt and frustration in Aramaki's voice as he explained his own helplessness against the Steering Committee's influence within the government resonated with her. He expressed his regret for not being able to protect her parents, bound by the insidious reach of the Committee that had infiltrated even the highest levels of authority.

Motoko's grief transformed into a steely resolve. She understood that her journey at Hope's Peak Academy was more than just about academic excellence or furthering her military career; it was about joining a covert struggle against an invisible and pervasive enemy. The realization that the Steering Committee's machinations had directly affected her life galvanized her determination to join forces with those who were already in the fight.

She vowed to work alongside Jin Kirigiri, Damon Gant, and Kazuo Tengan, aligning her goals with theirs in uncovering and dismantling the corrupt tendrils of the Steering Committee. Motoko knew this would be the most challenging mission of her life, one that would require all her skills as a soldier and a strategist. It was a battle not just for retribution but for the very soul of Hope's Peak Academy and the safety of those within its walls.

As she prepared for this new chapter, Motoko carried the legacy of her parents, the teachings of Aramaki and Batou, and her own unwavering spirit. She was no longer just fighting as a soldier; she was fighting as a daughter, a student, and a seeker of justice. The halls of Hope's Peak Academy were about to become the staging ground for a silent war against those who lurked in the shadows, and Motoko Kusanagi was ready to face them head-on.

Rina Ichihashi - Ultimate Marathon Runner

In the verdant expanses of Hokkaido's countryside, where the land stretches under wide skies and the air is crisp with the scent of pine and earth, Rina Ichihashi's journey began. Born into a family of modest means, their life was woven into the fabric of the rural landscape, a tapestry of quiet toil and simple pleasures. Their small farm, nestled in the heart of a close-knit community, was a world unto itself, where each day was marked by the rhythms of nature and the unending cycle of seasons.

Rina's family, though not wealthy in material terms, was rich in resilience and love. Her parents, stoic yet tender, worked tirelessly to provide for their children, instilling in them values of hard work and perseverance. Rina's early years were bathed in the golden light of rural simplicity, her playground the endless fields and her companions the stars that speckled the vast Hokkaido night sky. Yet, beneath this idyllic surface, there were undercurrents of struggle. The Ichihashi farm, like many in the region, faced the relentless challenges of agricultural life – unpredictable weather, fluctuating market demands, and the encroaching shadow of urban expansion. Despite these pressures, Rina's parents sheltered their children from the harsher realities, striving to give them a semblance of normalcy and joy.

Tragedy struck the Ichihashi family in a most unexpected way unfortunately. Rina's older sister, Akane, a beacon of hope and pride for the family, met a cruel twist of fate. Akane, a prodigious track star with dreams as vast as the Hokkaido skies, was on a trajectory that promised not just personal glory but a brighter future for the entire Ichihashi family. Her talent in track and field was undeniable, and she was well on her way to securing a full scholarship that would ease the financial burdens of her family.

Akane's passion for running was infectious, and Rina idolized her. She would watch in awe as Akane raced across the fields, her form perfect, her spirit unbreakable. For Rina, Akane was more than a sister; she was a mentor and an embodiment of hope. Her victories were a source of collective joy, and her aspirations were intertwined with the dreams of the entire family.

Rina and Akane shared a bond that transcended the usual ties of sisterhood. It was a connection forged in the simplicity of their countryside life and strengthened by their shared love for the open fields where they spent countless hours. Akane, older by several years, was more than just a sibling to Rina; she was a beacon of aspiration, a living testament to the joy and freedom that running could bring.

"Why do you love to run so much?" Rina would often ask, her young eyes wide with wonder as she watched Akane stretch in preparation for her morning run.

Akane would smile, a look of serenity washing over her face as she gazed out at the breaking dawn. "When I run, I feel free," she would say. "It's just me, the wind, and the path ahead. It's where I find peace, where I feel most alive."

Rina, clinging to every word, would nod, her heart swelling with admiration. She didn't fully understand her sister's words then, but they resonated within her. One summer evening, as they sat watching the sunset after a day of running, Akane turned to Rina with a serious expression. "Rina, promise me something," she said, her voice tinged with a gravity that was rare for her. "Promise me that you'll always run, not to chase after me, but to find your own path, your own reason to love the wind and the open road."

Rina, her eyes reflecting the hues of the fading light, nodded solemnly. "I promise, Akane. I'll run, not just for you, but for me too."

However, those dreams were shattered one fateful evening.

A sudden, devastating illness, swift and merciless, claimed Akane's life, leaving the Ichihashi family reeling in its wake. The loss was more than just emotional; it was a collapse of a future they had all envisioned. Akane's scholarship, her athletic prospects, and the financial relief she would have brought to her family, all vanished in an instant.

For Rina, the loss was profound and life-altering. Akane had been her hero, her inspiration, and her guiding star. In the bleak days that followed, the tracks and fields where Akane once raced became places of haunting memories. Rina's world, once filled with the laughter and encouragement of her sister, now echoed with the silence of absence. As Rina ran, each step became a flight from the pain that anchored her heart. She ran to escape the crushing weight of grief, to outpace the shadows of sorrow that clung to her. With every mile, she sought to distance herself from the aching void left by Akane's absence. Running became her refuge, a rhythmic release from the turmoil that gripped her soul.

In the beginning, her runs were aimless, fueled by a desperate need to feel something other than sorrow. She ran through the fields where she and Akane once laughed, along the tracks they had raced, each location a reminder of what had been lost. With each pounding step against the earth, she attempted to leave behind the haunting memories, to outrun the agony that threatened to consume her.

But as the days turned into weeks, Rina's relentless running began to transform her grief into something else. The physical exertion, the rhythmic pounding of her feet, and the steady breaths became a form of meditation, a way to process her loss. The endless tracks became a space for reflection, where she could connect with Akane in a way that transcended physical presence. Running allowed Rina to keep her sister's spirit alive, to carry forward the dreams and aspirations that Akane could no longer pursue.

Rina's running style evolved into a unique blend of endurance and grace. Unlike the explosive speed of sprinters like Akane, her strength lay in the ability to maintain a steady, relentless pace that seemed to defy fatigue. She learned to listen to her body, to sync her breathing with her strides, finding a rhythm that could carry her for miles unbroken. It was a style born not from formal training but from instinct and the raw need to run, to feel the wind and the earth as her only companions.

In the quiet dawns of Hokkaido, she would set out on her runs, each step a dance of resilience and determination. She experimented with different techniques, intuitively understanding the mechanics of her body and how to harness its energy over long distances. Her natural talent for pacing herself allowed her to run marathons that would leave others exhausted, yet she seemed to thrive on the challenge, her endurance a testament to her inner strength.

As her solitary runs became a constant in her life, Rina's family watched with a mix of concern and awe. They saw in her running a coping mechanism, a way for her to deal with her grief, but also a blossoming of something extraordinary. Rina's youngest sister, Yui, especially looked up to her with wide-eyed admiration. To Yui, Rina was not just a sister but a hero, a living embodiment of the strength and spirit that she aspired to have. Yui would often wait at the end of Rina's morning runs, her cheers the first greeting Rina would hear as she returned, exhausted yet invigorated.

Rina's early feats in running began to draw attention. She started to participate in local races, initially as a way to test her limits, but soon she found herself outpacing seasoned runners. Word of her talent spread, and she became a local celebrity, a beacon of hope and resilience in their small community. Her victories were not just for herself but became a source of pride for her family and a symbol of perseverance for her younger sister. Rina's rise to local fame brought with it new challenges and responsibilities, but her focus remained unwaveringly on her running. Yet, beneath her driven exterior lay a deep-seated fear that drove her just as powerfully as her memories of Akane. It was a fear of illness, of her body failing her and cutting short her ability to run, to connect with her lost sister through the pounding of her feet on the earth.

This fear manifested in an almost obsessive attention to her health. Rina became meticulous about her diet, ensuring she consumed the right balance of nutrients to fuel her body for the grueling demands of marathon running. She researched vitamins and supplements extensively, creating a regimented schedule of intake to optimize her physical well-being. To her, every meal was an opportunity to fortify herself against potential sickness, every vitamin a shield against weakness.

Her family observed this new facet of her personality with concern, but also understanding. They recognized that Rina's fear was another aspect of her grieving process, a way to exert control over something in a world that had shown her how quickly things could be taken away. They supported her, helping to source the healthiest ingredients for her meals and reminding her gently of the importance of balance and moderation.

Despite her growing reputation and her family's support, Rina never lost sight of why she ran. It wasn't for accolades or recognition; it was a personal journey, a quest to keep a promise to her sister and to herself. Each race, each morning run, was a step towards something greater than fame – it was a step towards finding peace and purpose in the rhythmic beat of her heart and the steady breaths that carried her across miles of open road. Her fear of illness, while a shadow in her life, also served as a reminder of the preciousness of health and the gift of each day she was able to run. That's why running for her wasn't just a simple exercise or sport, it was hope itself.

As Rina's strides grew longer and her pace steadier, her feats on the track began to turn heads far beyond the rolling fields of Hokkaido. It wasn't just her natural talent that caught the attention of local and eventually national media, but the sheer passion and dedication she poured into each run. She became a symbol of resilience and hope, a young girl who transformed personal tragedy into a journey of triumph.

Rina's accomplishments on the track were nothing short of remarkable. She shattered local records with the ease of someone far beyond her years, her name becoming synonymous with endurance and perseverance. Her victories in regional marathons were just the beginning. Soon, she was invited to compete in national-level competitions, where she stood toe-to-toe with seasoned athletes, many of whom had years of training over her.

Despite her success and the growing attention, Rina remained grounded. The accolades and trophies were not the fuel for her runs; they were merely byproducts of her love for running and the promise she had made to Akane. Each medal, each title, was dedicated to her sister’s memory, a testament to the unbreakable bond they shared.

Rina's success on the track also brought financial rewards, something her family had never sought but deeply appreciated. She began to send a portion of her earnings back home, helping to ease the financial burdens on the farm. This gesture was not born out of a sense of obligation but from a deep well of love and gratitude. For Rina, it was a way to give back to the family that had supported her unconditionally, who had given her the strength to chase her dreams. Her family, while proud of her achievements, always reminded her that the greatest accomplishment was not the medals or the fame, but the strength of character she demonstrated in pursuing her passion. They watched with pride as Rina, once a girl lost in the shadow of grief, grew into a young woman who ran not away from her past but towards a future of her own making.

And soon she was given the invitation to join Hope's Peak Academy.

The evening Rina received her invitation to Hope's Peak Academy, she sat down with her younger sister, Yui, in their favorite spot - the old wooden swing that overlooked the vast fields of their farm. The sky was painted with hues of twilight, a perfect backdrop for a conversation that would mark a turning point in Rina's life.

Yui, always the keen observer, had noticed the changes in Rina over the years. "You're doing it again," Yui said softly, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding. "The health checkups, the constant worry about getting sick. You're just like Akane was."

Rina sighed, a gentle admission of her fears. "I know," she replied, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "It's just that… after losing Akane, I can't help but worry. What if it happens to me? What if I let everyone down?"

Yui took her sister's hand, a gesture of solidarity. "Rina, you run because you love it, not because you're running from something. Akane would have wanted you to live fully, not in fear. And we all know how strong and capable you are."

Rina nodded, the truth of Yui's words sinking in. Her sister's encouragement was a balm to her worries. It was true - her running had become more than a tribute to Akane; it was a celebration of life, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

"But what about Hope's Peak?" Yui asked, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Are you really going?"

Rina gazed at the fading light, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions and aspirations. She turned to Yui, her expression serious yet hopeful. "Yui, I need you to make me a promise," she said, her voice steady. "No matter what happens, keep living your life to the fullest. Chase your dreams, laugh often, and never let fear hold you back. Can you do that for me?"

Yui's eyes shone with determination as she nodded vigorously. "I promise, Rina. I'll live my life just like you and Akane taught me. Fearlessly and with joy."

With Yui's promise secured in her heart, Rina felt a weight lift from her shoulders. It was as if she had passed on a part of her sister's legacy to Yui, entrusting her with the spirit of unwavering courage and love for life. Rina's heart swelled with a mixture of excitement and resolve as she looked towards the future. Accepting the invitation to Hope's Peak Academy felt like stepping onto a new track, one that promised both challenge and opportunity. She carried within her not just her own dreams, but the unfulfilled dreams of Akane, and the hopes of her family.

"I'm going to Hope's Peak Academy," Rina declared, her voice imbued with a newfound purpose. "There, I'll run not just for myself, but for Akane, for our family, and for anyone who needs inspiration to overcome their challenges. I'll cross every finish line with the spirit of those who've supported me and those I run in memory of."

She imagined the tracks at Hope's Peak, each stride a testament to her journey, each breath a reminder of the love and loss that had shaped her. In her heart, she knew that Akane would be running alongside her, her presence a constant source of strength and motivation.

With a determined smile, Rina looked to Yui. "And one day, I'll stand on that podium at Hope's Peak, not just for me, but for all of us. We'll make it to that finish line, together."

In that moment, under the vast Hokkaido sky, Rina Ichihashi wasn't just a girl from a small farm in the countryside; she was a beacon of hope, ready to embark on a journey that would touch the hearts of many. Her story was a testament to the power of resilience, the beauty of dreams, and the unbreakable bond of family. And as she stepped forward into this new chapter of her life, she carried with her a spirit that could outpace any challenge that lay ahead.

Sanae Yukari - Ultimate Athletic Trainer

In the heart of Kyoto, tucked away in a quaint neighborhood, stood a small clinic run by Sanae Yukari's parents. Her childhood was imbued with the sights and sounds of this humble medical establishment, where her parents, both compassionate and skilled practitioners, tended to the health and well-being of the local community. From a tender age, Sanae was a constant presence in the clinic, her eager eyes observing each careful diagnosis and treatment. She became known as the little helper, her bright smile and earnest desire to assist making her a beloved figure among the patients.

Sanae's energy and enthusiasm were not confined to the clinic's walls. She was a whirlwind of activity, always on the move, always eager to participate in any sport or physical activity. Despite her love for sports, she never felt the urge to pursue them competitively. Instead, she found joy in the sheer act of playing, in the camaraderie and the physical exhilaration it brought.

Her innate connection to sports and physical wellness converged with her talent in a defining moment during her elementary school years. It was then that she discovered her true calling. Sanae's best friend, Miho, struggled with a particular sport that they often played together. Miho's difficulties weren't due to a lack of effort; she was as dedicated and enthusiastic as Sanae, but her body just didn't seem to cooperate. Watching her friend struggle, something clicked in Sanae's mind. Drawing upon her observations from the clinic and her intuitive understanding of physical movement, she began working with Miho, helping her refine her technique and build her strength.

Under Sanae's guidance, Miho's performance began to improve dramatically. It wasn't just the physical aspect that Sanae addressed; she also focused on boosting Miho's confidence and mental resilience. The transformation was remarkable. Miho went from being the last one picked for teams to one of the most sought-after players. This success was Sanae's first taste of the profound impact she could have as an athletic trainer. It was a role that combined her love for sports, her keen observational skills, and her innate desire to help others.

As Sanae's reputation as an athletic prodigy grew, so too did the number of people seeking her help. What started as simple assistance on the playground soon blossomed into a community-wide phenomenon. Parents, teachers, and even local sports coaches began to approach her, hoping she could work the same magic with their children or athletes as she had with Miho. The influx of requests was both exhilarating and overwhelming for Sanae. She found herself confronted with a variety of athletic activities, some of which she had little to no familiarity with. Despite the daunting nature of these new challenges, Sanae's passion for helping others eclipsed any hesitation. She approached each new sport with an open mind, dedicating herself to understanding its nuances and requirements. This often meant spending hours researching, observing skilled practitioners, and even trying the sports herself to get a firsthand experience of the challenges they presented. Her natural athleticism and keen understanding of physical movement helped her adapt quickly, but it was her determination and willingness to learn that truly set her apart.

Sanae's approach was holistic; she didn't just focus on the physical aspects of training. She took the time to understand each individual's strengths and weaknesses, both physically and mentally. This personalized approach, combined with her genuine care and enthusiasm, led to remarkable improvements in those she helped. Young athletes began to excel in sports they had previously struggled with, and those who had lost their passion for physical activity rediscovered their love for it.

However, Sanae's dedication to helping others came at a cost. She often found herself stretched thin, her days filled with back-to-back sessions, leaving little time for her own interests and well-being. Yet, she pressed on, driven by the smiles and gratitude of those she helped. In each success story, she found validation and motivation to continue her work, even as it became increasingly demanding.

Middle school brought a new set of challenges for Sanae. As her academic responsibilities increased, she found it increasingly difficult to balance her time between helping others and keeping up with her studies. Her grades began to reflect this struggle, dipping below the standard she had previously maintained. Concerned, her parents sat her down for a heart-to-heart conversation. They recognized her passion for helping others, but they also emphasized the importance of self-care and academic responsibility.

"Sanae, we're so proud of what you're doing for others," her mother began, her voice laced with warmth and concern. "But you can't pour from an empty cup. You need to take care of yourself too."

Her father added, "Your education is important. It's wonderful to help others, but not at the expense of your own growth and well-being."

The conversation was a wake-up call for Sanae. She realized that in her eagerness to assist others, she had neglected her own needs. It was a delicate balancing act, but one that she needed to master. Taking her parents' advice to heart, Sanae made the difficult decision to cut down on the number of people she helped. She began to focus more on her studies and her own athletic development. This period was marked by self-reflection and growth, as she learned to set boundaries and prioritize her tasks more effectively.

This shift in focus did not diminish her passion for athletic training but allowed her to approach it more sustainably. She became more selective in the projects she took on, ensuring that she could give her best without compromising her academic performance or personal growth. This new approach led to a deeper understanding of her own capabilities and limitations, and she found that she could make a more significant impact by focusing on fewer cases with greater depth.

As Sanae honed her focus and learned to balance her responsibilities, her talent as an athletic trainer blossomed. She was no longer just the enthusiastic helper from elementary school; she had evolved into a skilled and insightful trainer whose reputation began to extend far beyond the school playgrounds and local sports fields. Athletes, both amateur and professional, began seeking her out, recognizing the unique blend of empathy, knowledge, and skill she brought to her training sessions.

Word of her abilities even reached the ears of former and current Ultimates, including Rina Ichihashi, who sought Sanae's expertise to enhance her marathon training before Rina became known as the Ultimate Marathon Runner. Sanae's guidance proved invaluable, helping Rina fine-tune her technique and optimize her performance. This collaboration with a future Ultimate further cemented Sanae's reputation as a top-tier athletic trainer. And also it didn't hurt that she also ended up making a close best friend for the future~

Sanae's skillset expanded dramatically. She delved into various aspects of athletic training, from nutrition and injury prevention to biomechanics and psychological conditioning. Her approach was holistic; she understood that peak performance was not just about physical conditioning but also about mental well-being. She developed personalized training programs that addressed the specific needs of each athlete, employing innovative techniques to help them achieve their best.

Her natural ability to connect with people, to understand their physical and emotional needs, made her sessions more than just training; they were transformative experiences for those she worked with. Sanae's empathetic nature allowed her to build strong, trusting relationships with her clients, making her guidance all the more effective. Despite the growing demand for her services and the offers of payment, Sanae remained grounded. She often declined monetary compensation, especially from younger athletes or those from less privileged backgrounds. For her, the true reward was seeing the people she helped reach their goals and surpass their own expectations.

As she continued to make a significant impact in the lives of athletes, Sanae's talent eventually caught the attention of Hope's Peak Academy.

Sanae's invitation to join Hope's Peak Academy was both an acknowledgment of her exceptional skills and an opportunity to broaden her horizons. The prospect of attending a school with such a diverse array of talents was exhilarating, and it aligned perfectly with her ultimate goal in life: to revolutionize the field of athletic training and make it accessible to everyone, regardless of their background or resources. She envisioned a world where every aspiring athlete, no matter their circumstance, had the opportunity to train, improve, and achieve their dreams.

Accepting the invitation to Hope's Peak, Sanae saw a chance to learn from the best, to exchange ideas with peers who were equally passionate about their talents, and to further refine her own skills. She was particularly excited about the prospect of working with athletes from various disciplines, understanding their unique challenges, and contributing to their success.

Sanae's goal was not just to be an exceptional trainer but to be an innovator and a leader in her field. She wanted to develop new methods and approaches that would make training more effective, holistic, and tailored to individual needs. At Hope's Peak, she saw the potential to collaborate with Ultimates from different fields, gaining insights that could help her achieve this vision.

More than anything, Sanae was driven by a deep-seated desire to give back. She had seen firsthand the impact that dedicated training and support could have on an athlete's performance and confidence. By becoming the Ultimate Athletic Trainer, she wanted to extend that support to as many people as possible, helping them not only to excel in their sports but also to find joy and fulfillment in their athletic pursuits. To Sanae, joining Hope's Peak Academy was a significant step towards making that dream a reality.

Tenma Hosaka - Ultimate Supreme Heiress

Tenma Hosaka is a boisterous some say arrogant rich woman wrapped in luxury, a blend of tradition and modernity, influence and independence. Born into the venerable Hosaka family, she is the heiress apparent to a sprawling empire that has its roots deep in Japan's history. But who exactly is Tenma? Where did this paragon of privilege grow up, and who are the power brokers in her illustrious family tree?

Tenma's childhood unfolded within the walls of an imposing estate in Tokyo, a city as dynamic and multifaceted as her own lineage. Her family, known for their traditional silk trading origins, had pivoted in the past century to become titans of industry in sectors as varied as technology, finance, and international trade. The Hosakas had a finger on the pulse of global markets, yet their approach was anything but traditional. Her parents, Kaito and Emiko Hosaka, were visionaries who steered the family fortunes through the tumultuous economic landscapes with a blend of old-world wisdom and a daring embrace of innovation. Under their guidance, the Hosakas expanded into renewable energy and AI technology, fields that stood in stark contrast to the silk looms of their ancestors. They were not just business magnates but also patrons of the sciences, funding research and scholarships for the next generation of innovators.

At the helm of the Hosaka empire stands Hosaka Holdings, a conglomerate whose name rings out in the halls of power and whispers in the corners of high society. Yet, this empire finds itself in a delicate dance of rivalry and respect with other industrial giants like the Togami Corporation and Towa Industries, each a behemoth in their own right, with Natsuki Corp emerging as a dark horse in the race for economic supremacy. The Hosaka name holds its own, a symbol of a legacy adept at navigating the intricate ballet of corporate diplomacy and competition. The gilded cradle of Tenma's upbringing was a world where luxury was a language and wealth a birthright. From the sprawling gardens of their Tokyo estate to the shimmering skyline dominated by the soaring towers of Hosaka Holdings, Tenma's world was one of unbridled privilege. Yet, it was a world that demanded the strength to lead, the acumen to govern an empire, and the tenacity to stand at the forefront of innovation and power. The boardrooms and banquet halls expected her to one day rise as the matriarch of this financial dynasty, leading with the same foresight and iron will as her forebearers.

Raised in the lap of such extravagance, Tenma's education was a carefully curated journey through the world's finest institutions, a blend of homegrown tutelage and international schooling. She was not simply taught to manage wealth but to multiply it, not only to appreciate art but to become a patron, and not just to inherit power but to wield it with an astute sense of responsibility. She was her parents' daughter, after all—Kaito's strategic mind and Emiko's social finesse combined in a single, formidable heir. However even such luxury has a cost.

The glistening façade of opulence often masked the cavernous depths of isolation that Tenma faced. With a name like Hosaka, she was known by many, but truly understood by few. Her confidence, often perceived as arrogance, was as much a shield as it was a birthright, a way to navigate the unrelenting gaze of the public and the press. Her ego, while considerable, was not unfounded, yet it also served as a fortress to protect the vulnerable heiress from the world's prying eyes and from the loneliness that stalked the echoing halls of her home.

Tenma's solitude was a byproduct of her stature; her companions were often chosen based on their social standing rather than genuine affinity. Relationships were alliances, and every interaction was laced with the subtle undercurrents of power and influence. This bred a sense of detachment in her, a feeling of being perched high on a pedestal, visible to all yet truly known by none. Her true self was often cloaked behind the dazzling veneer of the Hosaka legacy, leading to a deep-seated insecurity about whether she was valued for who she was or for the empire she represented.

The weight of expectation from her parents further compounded her isolation. Kaito and Emiko Hosaka, while loving in their way, were titans of industry whose very presence commanded authority and respect. They viewed Tenma not only as their daughter but as the future of Hosaka Holdings. Every step she took was monitored, every decision analyzed. They instilled in her the relentless pursuit of excellence, leaving little room for the trials and errors of youth. Her path seemed predestined, her choices predetermined, and the scope for personal exploration was narrow, constrained by the towering expectations of her lineage. In the eyes of the world, Tenma had everything—a life of unmatchable luxury, a future secured by wealth and success. But within the confines of her gilded cage, she grappled with the paradox of privilege: the more she had, the more she stood to lose.

In Tenma Hosaka's world, every handshake was a power play, every smile a strategic move. The elite circles she moved in were a treacherous playground, where every heir and heiress was a chess piece in a grand game of corporate and social one-upmanship. Friendships, if they could be called that, were as much about alliances as they were about camaraderie, and trust was a commodity more valuable and rare than the diamonds adorning their youthful necks. Tenma learned early on to navigate this world with a calculating mind; to her, peers were potential threats that could one day morph into rivals, or assets to be utilized in the ever-continuing Hosaka saga.

This constant vigilance fostered a fortress around her heart. The laughter shared over champagne toasts felt hollow, and the confidences exchanged in hushed tones were always tinged with the anticipation of eventual betrayal. Tenma's guard never faltered; her gaze was always sharp, missing nothing. She saw the ambition hidden behind the veiled compliments and the envy lurking within the shadows of faux admiration. Yet, this did not stem from paranoia; it was the reality of her existence, where every relationship had an angle, every friendship a potential agenda.

It was within this gilded but cold reality that Tenma met Kumiko Arase. Kumiko, the daughter of another affluent family and the self-made matriarch of EOS, a corporation she raised from the ground up, was a force to be reckoned with. She radiated a confidence that was hard-earned, her ambition a flame that burned bright and clear. Tenma, despite herself, felt a mix of admiration and jealousy towards Kumiko. Here was a peer whose drive matched her own, whose achievements were her own making, not just a continuation of familial legacy.

Their relationship was an interesting combination of competition and silent acknowledgment of each other's prowess. In the hallways of power where they both tread, Tenma would often cast a barbed comment Kumiko's way, her words sharp with the edge of rivalry, yet secretly, she respected Kumiko's tenacity. Tenma's insults were as much about keeping Kumiko close as a worthy opponent, as they were about pushing her away to safeguard her own position.

In public, they were seen as arch-rivals, their competitions the stuff of whispered speculation among the elite. But there was an unspoken understanding between them, a recognition of the loneliness that came with their stations, and of the unique challenges they faced as young women poised to inherit not just wealth but the burdens of legacy. Kumiko was perhaps the closest Tenma had to a true confidant, though neither would ever admit it. They saw in each other a reflection of their own ambitions and insecurities. It was a connection forged not out of warmth, but out of the fires of ambition and the cold steel of the business world.

The chill of the boardroom was palpable, a stark contrast to the warm luxury of the Hosaka estate as Tenma was ushered in by her parents for a conversation of grave importance. With the skyline of Tokyo framing the solemn gathering, Kaito and Emiko Hosaka laid bare a plan that had been meticulously crafted without Tenma's knowledge—an arranged marriage designed to seal a formidable alliance through a merger with one of their longstanding corporate allies. The news struck Tenma like a physical blow, a stark reminder that in their world, sometimes lineage and legacy trumped personal desires.

Her initial reaction was a visceral mix of anger and rebellion. The very idea that her path could be dictated, her future bound to another for the sake of profits, was anathema to her. Yet, her parents were unmoved by her protests. In their eyes, this was not just a marriage but a strategic move, a fusion of powerful dynasties that would cement the Hosaka name at the zenith of economic power. The projected profits were astronomical, the business opportunities boundless. They presented it as a fait accompli; Tenma's personal feelings were a secondary concern, if at all. Reluctantly subdued by her parents' unyielding stance, Tenma found herself seeking a way out of the gilded cage that was now threatening to close in on her. Desperation led her to seek counsel from the one person she believed could understand her plight—Kumiko Arase. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Tenma shared her predicament with her rival. Kumiko's advice was both a challenge and a revelation: to stop skulking in her parents' formidable shadow and instead strive to outshine them, to rise not just to the expectations of her lineage but to exceed them.

The backhanded compliment that Tenma offered in response belied the true depth of her gratitude. For once, Kumiko had offered her a glimpse of a path that Tenma herself had not seen, a way to assert her own will over the destiny that had been chosen for her. It was an idea that resonated with her more than she cared to admit—to increase the wealth and influence of Hosaka Holdings on her own terms, thereby giving her leverage against her parents' machinations. Fueled by this newfound resolve, Tenma began to strategize. She delved into the company's affairs, identifying key areas where innovation and expansion could lead to increased profits and market share. She proposed aggressive moves into emerging markets, leveraging the company's technological assets to establish a foothold in untapped sectors. Tenma also advocated for the acquisition of smaller companies that showed potential for exponential growth, particularly in the areas of artificial intelligence and renewable resources. Each proposal was more daring than the last, designed not only to enhance Hosaka Holdings' portfolio but also to assert Tenma's indispensability to the company's future.

These maneuvers were not without risk, and Tenma's parents scrutinized her every move, surprised by the audacity and insight of their daughter's plans. Yet, as the successes began to mount, so too did Tenma's confidence and stature within the company. With each triumph, she felt the shackles of her impending arranged marriage loosen, her value measured increasingly by her contributions rather than her marriageability. Tenma's strategic acumen truly shone when she turned her gaze to the lucrative yet complex world of gaming and entertainment. Recognizing the immense cash flow generated by casinos and pachinko parlors in Japan—a sector often overlooked by the more traditional arms of Hosaka Holdings—she embarked on a calculated campaign of acquisition.

Her approach was methodical yet bold. She began by conducting an exhaustive analysis of the gaming market, identifying the most profitable and strategically located establishments. With the precision of a seasoned player, she started acquiring stakes in these businesses, slowly at first, to avoid alarming the market and driving up prices. As her holdings grew, so did her influence, and soon, she was a recognized power player in the gaming industry. Tenma's vision went beyond mere ownership. She spearheaded renovations and technological upgrades to make her casinos and parlors more attractive to a diverse clientele. She integrated state-of-the-art gaming technology, enhanced customer service training for employees, and even introduced new business models, such as VIP loyalty programs and partnerships with luxury hotel chains to offer exclusive experiences.

The impact was seismic. Revenue from her entertainment ventures began to pour into Hosaka Holdings, swelling the coffers and diversifying the conglomerate's revenue streams. The company, which had once stood firmly upon the pillars of traditional industry and high tech, now boasted a robust and thriving entertainment division, all thanks to Tenma's gambit. As the profits from her entertainment empire grew, so too did Tenma's leverage within her family's corporate hierarchy. The board, once skeptical of her youth and inexperience, now listened attentively when she spoke. Her parents, who had envisioned her future within the confines of a strategic marriage, began to see her in a new light. They recognized that Tenma was not just a piece to be moved on the familial chessboard but a player in her own right, one capable of grand strategic vision and execution.

This newfound respect within the company and her family gave Tenma the autonomy she had long craved. While the threat of an arranged marriage hadn't entirely dissipated, her parents could no longer ignore that Tenma's value to Hosaka Holdings extended far beyond any alliance that marriage might bring. She had proven herself to be an asset more valuable than any merger, a fact that even Kaito and Emiko Hosaka could not overlook.

The tide of Tenma Hosaka's fortunes shifted irrevocably the day the invitation from Hope's Peak Academy arrived. The prestigious school was known for scouting only the most exceptional of talents, conferring upon its students the title of 'Ultimate'. To be chosen by Hope's Peak was an honor that solidified one's status as a prodigy in their field, and for Tenma, it was an acknowledgment of her burgeoning prowess as a business magnate. The title of 'Ultimate Heiress' was not merely an inheritance but a mantle she had earned through her shrewd business maneuvers and her indomitable will to redefine her family's legacy.

Her acceptance into Hope's Peak Academy was not just a personal victory; it was a powerful chip in the high-stakes game she was playing with her parents. The announcement was met with a mix of pride and consternation within the Hosaka household. Her parents, while pleased with the prestige that came with such recognition, also understood that Tenma's enrollment in Hope's Peak could disrupt the carefully laid plans they had for her future.

Seizing the moment, Tenma issued a challenge to her parents: if she could achieve certain milestones before her graduation from Hope's Peak, they would have to agree to annul the arranged marriage agreement. She laid out her terms with the confidence of a seasoned CEO—she would expand Hosaka Holdings' global presence, further increase the profitability of her entertainment division, and establish a new charitable foundation in the Hosaka name, focusing on education and innovation.

Kaito and Emiko Hosaka, no strangers to the art of negotiation, recognized the determination in their daughter's eyes. They agreed to the challenge, with the stipulation that if she fell short, Tenma would proceed with the marriage as initially planned. It was a gamble, but one that they could afford to make, knowing that whether Tenma succeeded or not, Hosaka Holdings would benefit from her efforts. For Tenma, the agreement was more than a mere business deal; it was a test of her own capabilities and a chance to escape the path that had been preordained for her. The stakes were high, but the rewards were worth the risk. With the autonomy to make her own decisions and the motivation to defy her parents' traditional plans, Tenma was more driven than ever.

Upon entering the hallowed halls of Hope's Peak Academy, Tenma Hosaka was immediately struck by the caliber of her fellow students—each branded as the 'Ultimate' in their respective fields. Yet, rather than being daunted by the collective brilliance, Tenma's ego swelled. In her eyes, these prodigies were not equals but benchmarks against which she could measure her own superiority. The title of 'Ultimate Heiress' was not just a formality but a testament to her prowess, and she wore it like armor, a shield against mediocrity.

Tenma strode through the academy with a confidence that bordered on audacity, her head held high, her gaze steely. Her peers' accolades and accomplishments were, to her, little more than the expected norm within these walls. She perceived herself not as just another 'Ultimate' but as the pinnacle, the one who would outshine them all. The competitive spirit of the academy didn't intimidate her; it was the arena she had been seeking, a place where her ambition could take full flight, unencumbered by the expectations of her lineage.

After all, Kumiko wasn't the only one who considered herself above even 'Ultimates'. In Tenma's eyes, nothing short of attaining the status of a 'Supreme' would suffice to free her from the chains of the arranged marriage looming over her. This unyielding ambition fueled her every action at Hope's Peak, driving her to not only meet but surpass every challenge, to outshine her peers and assert her dominance in the world of high-stakes business and power plays. In this crucible of talent, Tenma was more than just an heiress; she was a force to be reckoned with, a rising titan armed with intellect, wealth, and an iron will. Her journey at Hope's Peak was not just about academic achievement; it was about proving her unparalleled status, about forging her destiny on her own terms, and about emerging not just as an 'Ultimate' but as a true 'Supreme', unshackled and triumphant in the face of all expectations.

Yuka Diamond - Ultimate Model

Yuka Diamond's story is a tapestry woven from humble beginnings and grand aspirations. Born into the large Diamond family in a tranquil, rural corner of Japan, her life was far removed from the glitz of the fashion capitals. The Diamond family, while not steeped in wealth, was rich in love and kinship, with each sibling carving out a simple but happy existence amid the rolling fields and quiet woods.

From a young age, Yuka's fascination with fashion and beauty was evident. She'd spend hours in front of the mirror, draping fabrics and experimenting with looks, using the vibrant colors of the countryside as her inspiration. Her interest wasn't in the fleeting trends of the high fashion world but in the timeless beauty that could be created with a few well-chosen pieces. Her siblings would often become characters in the stories she'd create, dressed up in her latest creations, strutting through the fields as if they were runways.

Fashion for Yuka was not just about the clothing; it was a narrative, a means of storytelling that spoke of the wearer and the creator. She learned to weave narratives into each piece she created, stories that were grounded in the reality of her pastoral life yet soared into the realms of the fantastic. The worn denim of her father's work clothes, the delicate lace of her mother's old dresses, the sturdy leather of farm boots—each held potential in Yuka's eyes.

She would watch, wide-eyed, as traveling shows and festivals brought glimpses of the outside world to her doorstep. Performers in dazzling costumes and visitors from afar—everyone and everything brought inspiration. She absorbed the way fabric moved on bodies, the way accessories could accentuate or transform, and she took these lessons back to her own little corner of the world, to her room where she experimented with creating her own versions of those distant wonders. Yuka's learning was as organic as the crops her family tended. She learned the basics of sewing from her grandmother, who passed down the skills needed to turn raw materials into wearable garments. From her mother, she learned how to match and contrast colors, and from her siblings, she learned the art of improvisation—making do with what was available and turning it into something beautiful.

The town library, with its musty shelves and quiet corners, became a sanctuary for Yuka's blossoming passion. It was here, amidst the stacks of books and periodicals, that her love for fashion took root and flourished. She would lose herself in the glossy pages of fashion magazines, her eyes devouring the haute couture of Paris, the bold lines of Milan, and the innovative spirit of New York. These were worlds away from her rural existence, yet they felt as close as the fabric she held between her fingers each day.

She studied the works of iconic designers, tracing the evolution of fashion through the decades. Each biography of a designer became a lesson in history, philosophy, and art. She absorbed their techniques, their signature styles, and their philosophies on beauty and functionality. Her sketchbook became her most treasured possession, filled with doodles, designs, and dreams. Night after night, she sketched under the soft glow of her bedroom lamp, her pencils dancing across the paper, translating inspiration into vision. Yuka didn’t just study fashion; she breathed it, lived it, dreamed it. Her sketches began to show a fusion of the traditional and the modern, the rural and the urban, the functional and the fantastical. She had an innate talent for seeing the potential for beauty in everything around her, for imagining how the curve of a petal or the hue of the twilight sky could be captured in a piece of clothing.

As her knowledge deepened, so did the complexity and artistry of her designs. Yuka began experimenting with materials at hand, repurposing the old into the new with an intuition that seemed to whisper the secrets of the fabric into her ear. She learned to drape, to cut, to sew with a precision and care that made each piece not just a garment, but a story—a narrative woven from thread and imbued with the spirit of its creator. Her family's farm became a living canvas for her art. Yuka's siblings, ever-supportive, became the models for her burgeoning portfolio. She would stage impromptu photoshoots amidst the wheat fields and the barns, the natural light casting an ethereal glow on her work. The photographs, candid and raw, captured the essence of Yuka's vision: fashion that was grounded yet ethereal, practical yet dreamlike.

And then she got her first big break.

Yuka's first big break into the fashion industry was as serendipitous as it was transformative. It happened during one of the town's seasonal festivals, an event that drew visitors from all over the region. The festival was a tapestry of local crafts and culture, and Yuka, with the encouragement of her siblings, had set up a small stall to showcase her creations. Her display, a vibrant mosaic of repurposed fabrics and inspired designs, stood out amidst the more traditional fare.

Among the throng of attendees was a fashion blogger known for her keen eye and influential online presence. Drawn by the buzz of interest around Yuka's stall, she was immediately captivated by the originality and freshness of Yuka's work. The blogger saw in Yuka's designs a story that needed to be told, a new voice that the fashion world was waiting for. Impromptu, she decided to feature Yuka's collection in a piece on emerging talents from rural areas. Yuka's first big break into the fashion industry was as serendipitous as it was transformative. It happened during one of the town's seasonal festivals, an event that drew visitors from all over the region. The festival was a tapestry of local crafts and culture, and Yuka, with the encouragement of her siblings, had set up a small stall to showcase her creations. Her display, a vibrant mosaic of repurposed fabrics and inspired designs, stood out amidst the more traditional fare.

The blog post went live, and almost overnight, Yuka's work was thrust into the spotlight. The article went viral, shared across social media platforms and forums. People were enchanted by the narrative of a self-taught, rural designer who used her surroundings as her muse and created fashion that felt both new and deeply familiar. Orders for her designs started coming in, inquiries from small boutiques and independent fashion labels looking for the next big thing. Yuka's story resonated with a public tired of the same mass-produced clothing lines. Here was something genuine, something crafted with love and a deep connection to the beauty of the natural world. Interviews followed, as did photoshoots with larger magazines, each capturing the essence of her work and propelling her further into the public consciousness.

As her name grew, so did the opportunities. A small, eco-conscious fashion label approached her for a collaboration, wanting to tap into the unique blend of rustic charm and innovative design that Yuka represented. This collaboration turned into a capsule collection that perfectly encapsulated Yuka's philosophy: fashion that honors the environment, tells a story, and makes the wearer a part of that narrative. But it was also her first real start as a model.

Indeed, the collaboration with the eco-conscious fashion label marked a pivotal chapter in Yuka's burgeoning career. As the discussions around the capsule collection progressed, the label's creative team became captivated not only by Yuka's designs but also by her ethereal beauty and the way she personified the ethos of their brand. They proposed that Yuka become the face of the collection, to model her creations, insisting that her image perfectly reflected the spirit they wanted to convey.

Initially hesitant, Yuka found the idea of stepping in front of the camera daunting. She was a creator, comfortable behind the seams, not the spectacle in front of them. But the label reassured her, promising a respectful and appropriate approach befitting her age and inexperience. They envisioned a campaign that was less about the glitz and glamor of high fashion and more about storytelling through imagery that was pure, evocative, and connected to the Earth.

With the consent and support of her parents, who recognized this as an opportunity for Yuka to grow and showcase her talents on a larger stage, she agreed. The photoshoot was set in locations that harked back to her roots: lush green fields, serene forests, and the rustic Diamond family farm. The label was meticulous in ensuring that Yuka felt comfortable and empowered throughout the process. Yuka, adorned in her own designs, was a natural. Her initial shyness melted away as she began to understand the power of modeling as another form of storytelling, another avenue to express her vision. The resulting images were captivating, each frame highlighting the harmony between the clothing, the model, and the natural setting.

The campaign was a celebration of nature, sustainability, and authenticity. It was launched with an overwhelmingly positive reception, further solidifying Yuka's reputation not only as a gifted designer but now also as a model who brought a refreshing genuineness to the role. Her presence in the campaign connected with people on a personal level; it was aspirational yet attainable, a vision of what fashion could be when it stays true to its roots and values. As the eco-conscious campaign blossomed across various platforms, so did Yuka's visibility in the fashion industry. Brands, struck by the authenticity and allure of the young model-designer, began to queue up with offers. They were drawn not only to her photogenic grace but also to the rare blend of skills she possessed. Yuka was not just a mannequin for their garments; she was a collaborator who brought a wealth of creative insight to the table. Her ability to design clothing added depth to her modeling, as she didn't just present the clothes; she presented a vision.

What set Yuka apart in the world of modeling was her intrinsic understanding of the garments she adorned. When Yuka modeled, she brought with her the knowledge of the fabric's weight, the cut's flow, the stitch's pattern—she knew the garment's story because she was often its author. This intimacy with the design process translated into a modeling style that was both informed and intuitive. Her movements weren't just poses; they were narratives in motion, each turn and glance a dialogue between the creator and the creation.

Moreover, Yuka's modeling was unique in its authenticity. She eschewed the industry standard of excessive retouching and artificiality, insisting that her images remain as true to life as possible. This commitment to genuine representation won her fans and respect, setting a new standard in an industry often criticized for its distortion of reality. Yuka's dual talent as a designer and model caught the attention of avant-garde brands and traditional fashion houses alike. They recognized the potential of working with someone who could both envision the design and bring it to life before the camera. It was a seamless marriage of creation and presentation, one that elevated the concept of what a fashion campaign could be.

Yuka's ascent within the modeling world was meteoric, her portfolio a testament to her versatility and vision. As she worked with an array of brands, her experience broadened, and with it came an awareness of the industry's multifaceted nature. Alongside the creativity and glamour, she glimpsed the shadows that lingered behind the bright lights. Her innate talent and the novelty of her dual role as model and designer had shielded her from some of the harsher realities faced by her peers. But as she became more immersed in the industry, she couldn't ignore its more unsettling aspects. Stories whispered between models spoke of unrealistic expectations, the pressure to conform to certain aesthetics, and the relentless pace that could wear down even the most passionate of individuals.

Yuka was privy to the demanding nature of the work—the long hours, the continuous travel, and the constant scrutiny over one’s appearance. She saw friends and colleagues struggle with the industry's fickle nature, where one's career could be made or broken by a single decision from those in power. The prevalence of eating disorders, the sexual exploitation of young models, and the sometimes-questionable ethics of agencies were all elements Yuka became painfully aware of.

Fortuitous in her early discovery, Yuka's journey through the fashion labyrinth was guided by the same astute eye that had spotted her at the festival—the woman who became not just her manager but her mentor and guardian in the industry. Naomi Sato was her name, a veteran in the world of fashion, known for her ethical stance and nurturing approach to new talent. Naomi's discovery of Yuka wasn't just a chance encounter; it was the beginning of a partnership built on mutual respect and shared values. Their relationship was more than just professional; Naomi became a surrogate figure in Yuka's life, someone who provided wisdom not only on career choices but also on navigating the complexities of growing up in the spotlight. Naomi had seen too many bright young things dimmed by the darker side of the industry, and she was determined that Yuka would not be among them. She was fiercely protective, turning away deals that didn't meet her ethical standards and fiercely advocating for Yuka's personal and creative autonomy.

Naomi's guidance was a beacon for Yuka, helping her discern the genuine opportunities from the exploitative. With Naomi's insight, Yuka learned to recognize the predatory practices that could lurk behind the gloss of a contract or the charm of an industry insider. Naomi ensured that Yuka was insulated from the most egregious aspects of modeling, from inappropriate advances to pressure to change her appearance or compromise her values. Their bond was strengthened by their shared vision for the industry: one where the dignity and health of models were paramount, where sustainable and ethical fashion was the norm, not the exception. Naomi's reputation and tenacity opened doors to collaborations that allowed Yuka to thrive both as a model and as an advocate for change. Under Naomi's watchful eye, Yuka's career blossomed, and her influence grew, allowing her to stand as a beacon of integrity within the fashion world.

This protective bubble, however, was not impenetrable. Yuka was still exposed to the rigors and demands of the modeling world, the unrelenting schedules, and the scrutiny over her image. But with Naomi's support, she learned resilience and the importance of self-care, understanding that her well-being was integral to her success. However, Yuka Diamond's ascent in the fashion industry was not just a journey of personal achievement but also a platform for meaningful advocacy. With the steadfast support of her manager and mentor, Naomi Sato, Yuka used her growing influence to shed light on the often-overlooked issues within the modeling world. She became a vocal advocate for mental health resources, fair labor practices, and body positivity, her message resonating with up-and-coming models and industry veterans alike. Her advocacy brought a new level of discourse to the fashion conversation, challenging the status quo and igniting discussions about industry reform.

Despite her rising fame, Yuka's bold stance wasn't without its repercussions. As she became more outspoken, some agencies and brands, uncomfortable with the scrutiny, began distancing themselves. Invitations dwindled, and doors that were once open began to subtly close—a silent form of exclusion for challenging the industry's carefully maintained façade. Yuka's frank discussions on the darker aspects of modeling, from exploitation to unrealistic beauty standards, branded her as 'controversial' in the eyes of some.

However, Yuka's resolve only grew stronger in the face of these challenges. With Naomi's unwavering support, she continued to align herself with brands and agencies that valued ethical practices and authenticity. This period of her career, though filled with trials, helped clarify her path and solidified her network of like-minded collaborators. Each project became not just a modeling job but a statement of solidarity with those striving for a better, more ethical industry.

Ironically, the resistance she faced only served to amplify her message. New doors opened as progressive brands and activists sought her out, eager to be part of the movement for change that Yuka was championing. Her work took on greater significance, each campaign a testament to her commitment to reshape the fashion industry. It was during this transformative phase that Yuka caught the attention of Hope's Peak Academy. Recognizing her talent and courage, Kizakura extended an invitation for her to join as the Ultimate Model. This recognition was a shock to her large, supportive family and a testament to Yuka's dual impact as both a model and a force for change. The title of Ultimate Model was not just an honor but a validation of her efforts to advocate for a more inclusive and respectful fashion world.

As Yuka Diamond embraced her new role at Hope's Peak Academy, her ultimate goal crystalized with renewed clarity and purpose. She envisioned a fashion industry revolutionized—a realm far removed from the shadows of sexual, physical, and mental exploitation that too often lurked beneath its glamorous surface. Yuka's mission was to be a catalyst for change, to turn the industry into a space where ethics and aesthetics coexisted harmoniously, where models were respected as professionals and individuals, and where diversity and body positivity were celebrated rather than overlooked.

At Hope's Peak, Yuka found herself in an environment that fostered innovation and championed change-makers. She saw her time there not just as an opportunity to refine her modeling and design skills, but as a platform to advocate for the profound transformation she sought in the fashion world. Her experiences and the connections she made within the academy were stepping stones towards building a more compassionate and ethical industry.

Moreover, Yuka aimed to use her influence and talent to inspire a new wave of fashion brands—ones that aligned with her vision of sustainability, inclusivity, and integrity. She dreamed of collaborations that transcended traditional fashion norms, creating collections that were not only aesthetically pleasing but also socially conscious and empowering. Her goal was to model for brands that weren't just labels, but movements, championing causes from environmental sustainability to mental health awareness.

Yuka envisioned a future where fashion shows were celebrations of diversity, where photoshoots were collaborative and respectful, and where the beauty presented was as real and varied as the world itself. With Hope's Peak as her launchpad, she was determined to challenge and reshape the industry, to be a voice for those within it and an ambassador for a new era of fashion—one marked by respect, creativity, and true beauty in all its forms. Whether they liked it or not, Yuka was here to bring Hope to all Models, Fashionista's, and Designers/Stylists.

(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) And as Usual a treat for those who managed to scroll to the bottom or read the bio. Expect Christmas stuff this weekend~ As for the next special class? (人◕ω◕) It's Danganronpa Hope to Hurt~

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skylarsblue · 9 months

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✦New Life from Old Battlegrounds✦

(SoapGhost Content based purely on a piece of fanart by a Twitter mutual. Will I make more than one chapter? Perhaps) ✧TW; References to past abuse(Simon), implied death during childbirth(Simon), reference to a domestic dispute(Johnny) ✧Fluff, Mild Angst, Single Dad!AU✧

★Link to Ao3 Ver : ★Link to fanart that inspired it

✧Meeting✧

John hummed to himself as he walked down the street, dodging people passing him and contemplating what to make for dinner. At the same time, he noted the things around him, thoughts bouncing from subject to subject as it always did. His mother used to joke that if he didn’t learn to contain his thoughts, one day, his brain would be sick of being in his skull and it’d escape. Bounce all over the room like he did. He gave a quick snort at the memory, making a quick note that he’d need to call her again, since it’d been about a week since he’d spoken to her last. It was still very odd being far from her. It’d been such a change from his original plan as a teen, though, he supposed his entire life at that point was far from his young plans for his life.

For starters, he’d been certain he’d be more in the military for longer than he was. He wasn’t completely free from government work, but he wasn’t a constant on-call soldier anymore either. Most of his job was paperwork now. Was it his preferred job? Admittedly, no. He often missed the days on base, the training, the adrenaline rush of battle. Not that he liked to complain, he had it good regardless, he felt so anyway. He’d always been the optimistic type. The way his job was now kept him home more, it was safer, the pay was good, and it was honestly nice to have access to food outside of MREs. He most certainly did not miss the MREs. While his teenage self, and himself in his younger twenties, flourished in the aggressive environment of war, he couldn’t keep that life. Thanks to another curveball from the universe.

John had never considered himself to be fitting of the definition “playboy”, though some of his extended family and exes disagreed. He had no issue with being tied down, though it always seemed it never lasted very long. Be it due to personal differences or the way the military kept him away. He always did his best to be a good partner, not perfect, but good. Still, the longest committed relationship he’d had lasted about two years and a couple months, and that had been when he was fresh out of his teens. All the poor experiences and seeming inability to keep a partner, he didn’t fear the prospect at all. He still looked forward to having a partner permanently one day, getting settled down and such. But that didn’t stop him from casual fun either. He never saw any reason why two adults couldn’t have fun for a night, and leave it there. The problem was really the risk that came with that kind of fun, specifically when his partner had the biological equipment for pregnancy. He’d had one scare when he was sixteen, but that also turned out to be his first experience with a cheating partner. Aside from that, he skated through his pleasureful escapades without problems. He was clean and childless.

Until he wasn’t.

He’d gotten a little too cocky with an apartment neighbor turned casual fuck-buddy, and he came home from a mission to a rather pissed off expression on her face and a DNA test in her hand. It wasn’t ideal by any means, both had agreed on that. It scared him to all death. But his mother had carried many children, and his father sunk in the lesson that it was a woman’s choice completely. He wasn’t carrying anything, his body wouldn’t be changing, so he left the decision up to her. She wasn’t happy with the reality but a heavily religious upbringing made the idea of an abortion out of her options, even if she was rebelling from the eye of God. He’d only nodded when she had said the thought of getting one made her sick. At first, the plan was to try at an actual relationship. They liked each other enough to have sex, he made her laugh plenty, she had a lot of sweet qualities John admired. But by the eighth month, whether it was hormones or the reality of a child weighing heavy on her mind, she’d turned into quite the she-beast, to put it lightly. To the point Johnny sported a new scar on the palm of his hand from a lamp being thrown at his skull.

It became very apparent a relationship wouldn’t work. However, John also couldn’t shake the attachment he’d grown to the child he’d helped create. The last month of her pregnancy was hell on his psyche, but he stuck it out in the hope he’d get to see the baby, even if he’d have to fight it out in a court. Something his eldest sister, Edith, promised to help him with, should it be messy. Thankfully for him, however, the mother really hadn’t been too keen on staying that way. It admittedly stung when she’d responded so poorly after delivering the child, even the nurse winced at her coldness. John got one hundred percent of the parental rights, however, without a court case or a fight. Even if the prospect of being a single father scared him halfway into an early grave. He had many nights where he stayed up on the phone with either his mother or his sister, needing both advice and pep talks. And he still held a pill of guilt from the one night he considered giving his new daughter up for adoption, truly worried he wasn’t cut out for it.

Though, much to the joy of his current self, he’d stuck it out. He had to change and sacrifice a lot, and every now and then, he had the wonder of what would’ve happened had he not taken responsibility. But the thought was often rocketed out of his brain by the simple image of his daughter’s excited face when he came to pick her up from school. A very small, old building, situated in Leek, England. When the baby had just been born and the situation was still fresh, he wanted to give the woman who’d given birth to his daughter to change her mind. So he’d stayed in England, albeit a completely different town. He wasn’t so open to the idea now that he’d raised her, but the town had charmed him, and he wasn’t hugely fond of the concept of taking his daughter out of her hometown. Even if he missed Scotland often. Though he did everything he could to ensure his daughter wouldn’t end up with an English accent. Had it taken a decent chunk of money to get a cable package that included Scottish channels with Scottish cartoons? Yes. Did he regret it? Not at all. Visiting his family for holidays also helped. His daughter, named Maisie, was very fond of her visits to the country. Part of him hoped it could set up for her being open to moving there when she was older, though he didn’t cling to that idea very tightly. He had plenty of time before her teen years. Or, at least he told himself that, even if she turned five at the speed of light. Much like his second oldest sister, Davina, warned him.

John jogged when he spotted the school just ahead. He occasionally drove the distance, but it often wasn’t worth the gas it wasted, not when he could walk the distance with ease. Children filed out to their parents, the sound of little laughter never failed to make John grin. He’d always loved kids, even before being a parent to one. Likely because of the large family he came from. After all, he was the fifth kid born out of seven. His mother was a triplet, and his father had six sisters. The family events were more like circuses with the amount of kids. Sometimes it was hard to get any attention at all. It didn’t affect his adoration for his bloodline though…excluding the occasional prick of an aunt or step-uncle.

The blue-eyed man walked up to the school, whistling a tune as his hands came to rest on his jean-clad hips. It was warm for once, without a layer of overcast in the sky. John tapped the rhythm of a song stuck in his head on this hip, eyes scanning through kids, parents, and teachers. Stopping once to give an awkward nod and strained smile to a mom he’d met at a school event once. He averted his eyes quickly however. Not to throw a woman under the bus, but John wasn’t too fond of her less-than-subtle flirting she’d chuck his way whenever he went to an event for his daughter. He hadn’t dated since Maisie’s mother, for his own sake and hers. And even if that wasn’t a factor, he was about ninety-nine percent sure the woman was married. John was a lot of things, but a homewrecker certainly wasn’t one.

His brain flicked back on when he heard a familiar little voice shout a goodbye. With a genuine grin this time, John turned and spotted his little girl waving to someone. He let out a sharp whistle, something he’d picked up from when his father owned horses. Quickly, Maisie turned and searched for her father, breaking out into a look of pure joy. Little Mary-Janes clacked on the stone as she sprinted to him. John crouched down and held open his arms, ready to receive. As soon as she reached him, he hoisted her up high with a laugh, reveling in her joyous giggle. He brought her down and set her on his hip, supported by his arm.

“Didn’t you have a bow in yer hair when I sent ya here?” John questioned, and Maisie looked away. “Uhhh noooo?” She lied, making him snort. “Ya lil’ bugger, you yelled at me all mornin’ for not tying it right!” He playfully scolded, making her laugh as he pinched at her side, having her curl away from the ticklish feeling. “I kept the piggies in though!” Maisie retorted, touching the tiny brunette pigtails in her hair. They were a bit messy now, but to her word, they were intact. John sighed with a head shake. “‘Suppose you got a point there. Where’d the ribbon go then?” He asked, subconsciously taking her rucksack when she took it off and held it away from her.

With the pink strap over his shoulder, looking hilariously small against his frame, he watched her eyes grow with excitement. “I gave it to my new friend! I tied it around her wrist and told her to wear it until I could make her a bracelet.” The little girl explained proudly. The ex-soldier tilted his head with a little chuckle. “A bracelet huh? For a new friend? You must like her a lot. That’s a high honor, lass.” He commented. Maisie bobbed her head aggressively, showing she agreed quite intensely. “She’s my best friend now. She’s new to town too! She said she lived in Manchester before, but her dad didn’t like the school she was in, so they came here.”

John hummed with a quick nod, showing he was listening. He adjusted her on his hip and opened his mouth to speak, ready to suggest a treat before they went home, seeing as how it was such a nice day out. But he paused when his gaze caught on a figure near the front of the school. There wasn’t really anything amiss at first. Just another parent picking up their child it seemed, based on the little blonde girl that was being cautiously lifted off the ground. But it was Maisie’s outburst that made his eyes stick. She pointed with a smile. “That’s my friend! Her name is Ellie!” The information barely registered as John took in the stranger.

Tall, broad, with an aura he’d only attributed to an animal before. A doberman-like intimidating energy. Dressed in almost all black with a black surgical mask across the lower half of his face. An image of intensity only broken by the soft, chubby features of Maisie’s new friend. Round and rosy cheeks with big eyes. John couldn’t look away from the man’s face though, noting a noticeable scar that ran to the stranger’s temple, barely clipping the end of his eyebrow and leaving a subtle indent in the short blond hair at his temple. Just as John was about to force his eyes away, the man turned slightly, and their gazes locked. Cliche and beyond cheesy, but John was suddenly stunned by just how pretty this man's eyes were. Instead of holding the borderline scary aura the rest of him did, they held a gentleness. Light eyelashes in contrast to cinnamon brown. There was a purple tint under the man’s eyes, adding to the naturally tired slope of his eye shape. John always liked eyes, he always found them his favorite thing to look at on people’s faces. Although here, he was suddenly very acutely aware that he had been straight up deadpan staring at a man he didn’t know for God knows how long. The man also clearly noticed, given the uncomfortable shift in his shoulders and the almost anxious glance away, only to connect back with John’s eyes. Obviously, double checking if he was meaning to stare at him. Thankfully, Maisie’s voice helped break John’s train of thought and pull him from his own head.

“Can Ellie come over?” Maisie questioned. “Huh? Oh, uh. We would need to ask her pa, bò.” Her father stammered a bit, looking down at her, although he was certain he could feel the other man’s stare still on him. Internally, he worried he’d already sealed in a bad impression. There was nothing more awkward than accidentally staring at a stranger for seemingly no reason, and then getting caught. “Well he’s over there, let’s go ask!” Maisie tugged at the collar of John’s shirt. He sighed quietly and took a second to prepare how he’d manage that. He debated if he should open with his name or just boldly state an apology. When he decided he’d figure it out once in front of the man, he took in a breath and readied himself to charm his way out of the awkward tension he’d just built.

However, when he looked up, fully prepared to walk toward the man, he was startled by the masked stranger being suddenly closer. A safe distance away but close enough for a conversation. Maisie didn’t miss a beat, waving happily at Ellie who returned the gesture albeit with less enthusiasm. John blinked before he coughed, rolling his shoulders and smiling. Needing to look up was something new. He wasn’t short by any means, and he’d met plenty of tall people, but there was something about the rest of his man’s energy that made his height seem all the more intense. “Afternoon, ‘m John, Maisie’s dad. Uh…sorry about the staring. Wasn’t intentional, was meant to be more of a glance and I forgot to move my eyes.” The Scot said with far less grace than he’d hoped for, he was even using his hand to talk, a habit he always had but that often worsened when he was nervous. The man blinked slowly at him before holding out a hand, which John noted was gloved, despite the warm weather. The gloves had bone detailing on them.

“Simon.” Ellie’s father answered through a gravelly voice and thick accent. John silently hoped his relief wasn’t too visible as he reached to shake the extended hand, shoulders less tense. “Pleasure to meet’cha, Simon.” He said genuinely, letting his hand come to rest on the strap of Maisie’s bag. He inhaled to speak again, only for his daughter to cut in. “Can Ellie come over to play?” She asked quite loudly. John sighed and patted her on the arm. “It’s “may”, lass. Also say please, and don’t interrupt.” He said, voice soft as he reminded her. Though his tone was gentle, she straightened her back and quickly addressed him with an apology before looking back at Simon. “I’m sorry. May Ellie come over to play, please?” She asked, slower this time. Simon hummed and shifted his weight a bit. He looked down at his daughter, asking silently for her opinion. Ellie nodded with a shy grin. Simon looked to John again. “I’m not too keen on her being at stranger’s houses.” He said calmly. His blunt tone made Maisie deflate, taking it as a complete no. John did as well, but he was quick to offer a solution. “Well that’s alright. There’s a park near a shopping center nearby, Maisie goes there every weekend. If you have the time, maybe we could meet there instead. Let the girls play without havin’ to be at one of our houses.”

Simon tilted his head back down to his daughter once more, Ellie nodded up at him again, this time her eyes wider and her head shook more intently. “That’ll do.” Simon replied calmly. Maisie perked up again, swinging her legs with excitement as John gained a smile of his own. He struggled to bring out his phone and unlock it with only one hand. Simon rose an eyebrow curiously until the brunet held out his phone, open to a new contact page. “We can work out the details whenever ya have a second.” John explained. Simon took the device carefully. He adjusted Ellie so she could wrap her short arms around his neck. John bit back a snicker when the little girl hung from her father’s neck, allowing him to have both hands free. With the freedom, he slipped off a glove so he could type in his number and his first name into the contact. Once it was done, he handed the phone back and let Ellie rest back on his arm.

“Alright then! That’s solved, just let me know when you get an opening in your schedule.” John nodded. Maisie was silently climbing up his form to get on his shoulders, something he adjusted to seamlessly while keeping Simon’s gaze. His legs turned and ready to leave. Simon tilted his head subtly. “What ‘bout your schedule?” He questioned lightheartedly. John chuckled. With one hand holding Maisie’s ankle, he gently bumped Simon’s shoulder with his fist. “I’ll save you a spot, sir.” He said cheerfully. Simon blinked and followed the Scot with his shocked eyes as John started to walk away. Maisie waved to Ellie and shouted a loud goodbye. Simon could feel the gentle touch through the fabric of his jumper long after it was gone, and it stunned him a bit. He blinked before sighing. “Bloody hell…” He mumbled before turning to walk in the opposite direction, keeping his daughter tucked in his arm. . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Simon bounced his leg as the train shook on the tracks. He kept his gaze either in his lap or out the window, although acutely aware of his surroundings. He always was very observant, no matter where he went. He knew there were a total of twelve other people in his cab and he’d clocked one as an alcoholic off the bat. Spotting a hidden brown bag in the suited man’s bag, amongst various business documents and folders. The pristine suit and silk tie meant nothing. Simon was sure to sit furthest from that stranger, even if he’d been occupied with a meeting on his laptop. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t care to hear the stranger’s sob story, he didn’t really care. The detail-oriented system his brain operated under was built from training.

Simon needed to spot subtle dangers, it was the only reason he was alive to see anything at all. If his childhood strife wasn’t enough to train his subconscious on how to spot the incoming dangers before they occurred, allowing him time to prepare for the fallout or prevent the situation entirely. The years he spent in the SAS certainly did. If anything escaped his line of sight, people would be dead, his own life included. All it took was a single blindspot taken advantage of to send blood splattering to the ground. He’d seen it, he’d caused it. It wasn’t something to take lightly and it was a habit he knew he’d never get rid of. Not that it was a bad skill to have, it kept him alive, although there were days he yearned for a life more peaceful.

He’d never been free from pain or trauma, if he wanted that, he’d have to reincarnate completely. Something he doubted God, if the being even existed, would be willing to give him. His father’s torment, however the most damaging on his mind when at its most malleable, seemed like the least of his mental struggles. Even if he still had nightmares where the feeling of a reptile’s dangerous and scaled lips touched his own. They paled in comparison to other images that would keep him up at night. The feeling of unwanted hands or the scent of earth mixed with a body’s decaying organs were by far the worst ones, though even those had gotten better. Mostly with time. They weren’t as frequent, thankfully. He had more recent agonies, ones that still stung like fresh. The loss of his entire family but the one man he’d disowned weighed on him heavily, the bruising ache of betrayals from people he considered friends. All these things only kept at bay from keeping himself busy, or, when they were at their worst, an uncharacteristically vulnerable discussion with his coworker and past superior. But all these things were years in the past. His most recent internal gash was only five years behind him, and while he’d begun to walk away from it, he still felt it burn under his skin.

Simon very rarely got close to anyone. Every time he did, it seemed they either died, grew to hate him, eventually betrayed him, or merely vanished. Sometimes he’d ask himself what he’d done to deserve it, occasionally he’d brood in a fit of emotional anger over what those who’d wronged him had done. Usually though, he’d bared with it, even expected it. Every individual he met, he readied himself for something to go wrong. It hadn’t been any different when he’d accidentally bumped into a woman at a library, almost knocking the poor thing over. He was exhausted and a bit woozy from some pain meds he’d been prescribed, thanks to a bullet wound that knocked him in his lower ribs.

She’d been nothing but benevolent, and to call her anything but beautiful would’ve been a crime. Simon had a brand new urge when she’d smiled at him, the urge to run, sprint as far as possible. Her dimpled cheeks, wavy & glowing honey-blonde hair, and kindhearted eyes squeezed the oxygen from his lungs, almost taking out his knees. She even helped him find a book he’d actually enjoy, which he did. It would’ve been bad enough with that one encounter, but then he bumped into her again in a cafe. This time, it was her who knocked into him, promptly covering his hoodie in tea, much to her horror. Simon felt nauseous when his heart stuttered, watching her apologize frantically and ask if he was okay, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, even when he assured her it was fine.

It was the third time, at a pub, that he learned her name. It was also that time that she’d graced him with her number. He didn’t contact her for a month. Even in the current day, he wasn’t sure what prompted him to call her. His apartment had just been so quiet, the rain so loud, and his heart heavy. Something about her sleep-addled voice must’ve flicked a hidden switch in his brain, because that phone call spurred a relationship. Not a whirlwind romance like in the movies by any means. He didn’t know how to treat her, and he pulled away from her frequently. She’d broken down in tears once when he’d gone a month avoiding her, having assumed she’d done something wrong. That night had ended with him held tightly to her body, earning a kiss with more emotion than he thought he was capable of.

It was the longest relationship he’d had. Technically speaking, given he didn’t really count the on & off situationship he’d battled with from the ages of fourteen to sixteen. All that had done was tell him he wasn’t straight, he hated disco music, and he wasn’t fond of the constant anxiety of his father’s heavy hand over a relationship that wasn’t even exclusive. It also was the kindest relationship he’d had, perhaps even on a platonic level. He could never wrap his head around how someone so gentle could exist. How a voice could feel like a blanket’s warmth on shivering skin, how a touch could feel so safe, or how perfume could be so intoxicating. He’d been so disarmed so fast it baffled him.

He’d known her for four months, dated her for two, and admitted he loved her the entire time on the third month. Coincidentally, the same month she’d shyly placed a positive pregnancy test in his hand. She’d been terrified to tell him, clearly. Probably because he’d been very avoidant on the topic of family, while she’d mentioned her dream of motherhood early on. Simon almost ran again, he’d gotten on a bus in the middle of the night when she’d gone to sleep. He wasn’t sure where, it was his apartment she was sleeping in. He was never sure how he’d ended up at the cemetery his mother was buried in, but it shocked him into going back home. His father was a stain on his DNA, a coward and a bastard. He already resembled the man, the last thing he needed to do was fall into the pit of spineless decisions the man had.

It didn’t scare him any less. Even when the idea of being responsible for a newborn had begun to lighten up, the worry something bad would happen only got heavier. He prayed for it to be paranoia as her stomach grew. He’d even asked whatever god that would listen to put the weight of anything awful to fall on himself, not her or the baby. And he cursed whatever God existed when her water broke far too early, and when it sent the sweetest woman he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting into utter agony. He always hated hospitals, and that hatred worsened when he had to carry her into the ER. He’d paced for hours. There was a risk of losing the baby, something that made his stomach twist. There was a risk of losing her, something that made his chest tighten. There was a risk of losing both, something that actually made him vomit in a trashcan near the waiting room. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

Simon didn’t get to decide either. He’d been handed a tiny, fragile baby girl swaddled in blankets. She was beautiful, but the moment wasn’t sweet. When he made eye contact with the nurse, the woman’s face said enough, and for the first time in a long time, Simon sobbed. Enough for his entire body to shake. His coworker had to hold him that night, it was the only way to keep him together. “I’m sorry, Simon.” was all the bearded man could say, in a voice gruff from years of ordering soldiers and smoking, but filled with genuine heartache for the man broken once again.

His daughter, Ellie, came out fine. She was small and fragile, sure, but alive. Simon had to ask his friend if babies ever remembered their newborn phase, purely in fear that his child would remember him crying while keeping her swaddled up on his chest. He couldn’t even use the nursery he’d help make, he moved the crib into his room, right by his bed. Though, for the first month he didn’t even use it. He slept with the newborn on his chest, hands rested on her small form, just to make sure she wouldn’t vanish. He even became on a first name basis with the pediatrician because he visited so often, constantly burning with anxiety. The doctor told him to go to his own care physician and get a prescription for Xanax, lest he collapse from the stress. Having such a dramatic change wasn’t good for his health. His friend took it upon himself to make everything as easy for Simon as physically possible. From a shift in careers to watching the baby so Simon could finally sleep, even if he needed a mountain of melatonin to do it.

He pulled himself together. Even if the time he’d spent with the angel he’d met at the library was cut short, something he somehow managed to blame himself for, up until his daughter Ellie was three. She was the spitting image of himself aside from two things, two things he treasured about her the most. In her brown eyes, the left held a split of color, bright green, the color her mother had. The other feature was a singular mole on her tiny shoulder, just adjacent to her neck, exactly where her mother had one. He always found himself softening when he was reminded of these two tiny details about his child. Even if Ellie didn’t truly understand why. It seemed the features she favored about herself were the ones that she shared with her father. Something Simon managed to find a bittersweetness in.

He’d been so hesitant to send her to school when she became the right age. To the point he started her on half days, to get her acclimated slowly, but admittedly more for himself. It was fine at first. She had the occasional bad day, but she always attributed it to loud noises or lots of stimuli. It was when she turned four that she started coming home and telling him about the occasional mean comment. It wasn’t too bad, in her words. But the day he was called to pick her up because she was brought into a hysterical meltdown, a combination of some kids teasing her and a substitute teacher’s rough handling of her emotions, Simon had just about lost it. If looks could kill, his eyes would’ve been the equivalent of an air strike. He’d been ready to tear the old woman’s head off, and he’d never been closer to kicking actual children into the sun than that moment.

The school had a habit of not helping when kids were bullied, and when Simon really looked at it, he realized the environment Ellie was always in. His apartment was cramped and dark, not to mention old. His downstairs neighbor was always yelling at his roommates, the upstairs one was a drunk, and the old lady across the hall never failed to make a comment when she caught Simon in the lift. The traffic was hell and the closest park needed a train to get to, since he didn’t like to drive. He had plenty of money saved, and when he asked Ellie if she would miss anything, her only answer was the birds that nested in one of the windows.

So, he found a small home, packed everything, and took Ellie out of Manchester. He liked the ability to add more security immediately. No longer relying on a lazy landlord and a chain lock. He could secure every window and door and install a proper security system. Ellie was most fond of the dogs she’d seen being walked in the neighborhood, as well as the large window seat her new room had. The only one who knew about the address change was Simon’s coworker, the only one with a spare key too. In case of an emergency. He’d waited a full month before enrolling his daughter in school again, and he honestly would’ve waited longer, had Ellie not complained about the cabin fever.

It was fairly close, but just a bit too far to walk to, hence why Simon took the train. The bus was also an option, but it was far too crowded for his liking when he’d seen the stop. He adjusted his mask when walking from the station to the school, the hand in his hoodie pocket held a small back of sweets. Something he grabbed for Ellie as a prize for going to her new school. He silently missed his balaclava. He would’ve worn it if Ellie didn’t remind him other kids would probably be scared of it, and he was intimidating enough on his own. As usual, he scanned the area as he approached. Counting every child and adult he could see. He slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, waiting patiently to see a head of blonde tresses tied in a bun with a white scrunchy, one with little ghosts on it. She’d begged for it when she saw it, and it was easy to pick out of a crowd. He relaxed when she came into sight, noting how she waved at a little brunette girl that ran away.

Ellie walked to him briskly. Simon zeroed in on a red ribbon tied loosely around her right arm in an uneven bow. “Hi daddy.” Ellie said softly as she reached him. “Hi, squeaker. How was your first day?” He asked. He bent to pick her up when she raised her arms. “Good. I didn’t talk to many kids, but there was this one girl who was really nice.” She explained, then held up her ribbon-decorated arm. “She gave me her hair bow, said it was a placeholder until she could make me a bracelet. Her name’s Maisie, but the others called her MayMay.” Simon hummed in acknowledgment, face softening as she described it with a smile. It’d been the first time another kid had made an effort to befriend her, something that brought Simon a lot of relief. “So, I assume you had fun then?” He asked.

Ellie nodded again. “She taught me Scottish words. Her dad’s Scottish, she said.” Simon listened and nodded. He turned, ready to head to the train station again. He only stopped when he felt the shiver up his spine, a sixth sense he developed when in the sights of a sniper. He even looked at the builds first, checking the roofs. It was only when he looked ahead of himself that he saw who was staring. A brunet stranger with blue eyes and a messy mohawk. Simon blinked as the man gazed at him, noting the little girl in his arms. He looked around at his sides. Maybe the stranger was looking past him? No, no he was certainly staring at him.

Simon felt Ellie tap him. “It’s okay, daddy. That’s MayMay, that man’s her dad.” She whispered. He looked at the man once more, seeing him now distracted by Maisie. He sighed slowly and looked at Ellie. “You want me to say hello, don’t you.” It was less a question, since he knew the answer, and more a statement. Reaffirmed by Ellie’s gentle nod. Simon let out a defeated sigh, and his daughter patted his shoulder in sympathy. She was well aware of her father’s introversion. Still, Simon walked up, though not too close. He could hear the little girl’s accent, mostly Scottish with a British twang of sorts. Maisie’s father let out a sigh and looked up, though clearly startled by Simon’s now closer proximity. A few seconds passed as the man took Simon’s form in, before he coughed and introduced himself, quickly followed by an awkward apology.

The man’s shoulders were tense, that was the first thing Simon noticed. He also noticed a scar on his chin, and along his right eye. And, a bit shamefully, he noted how tightly the man’s shirt hugged his well-built chest and arms. Simon wasn’t one to gawk but even he had to admit those biceps were impressive. He blinked, then held out his hand. “Simon.” He stated calmly. John relaxed and shook his hand. He looked ready to say something before Maisie cut him off, too caught up in her own excitement to remember manners. “Can Ellie come over to play?” She exclaimed. Ellie smiled at the enthusiasm and Simon could hear her stifled giggle.

John’s voice was gentle when he corrected his daughter, and Simon admired how Maisie immediately responded. Maisie asked again, and while Simon wouldn’t have any problem saying yes, he wasn’t going to agree without his daughter’s confirmation. He never liked the idea of forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to, if unnecessary. But she nodded when he looked down at her. He paused. The idea of letting his daughter go to a stranger’s house made anxiety pump into his veins, and while this man seemed nice, he didn’t want to give out his address. “ “I’m not too keen on her being at stranger’s houses.” He admitted. Honestly, he felt a pang of guilt when John’s daughter deflated. John seemed to as well, if only for a second, Simon caught the look akin to a dejected puppy. Really, the man had serious puppy eyes.

John bounced back quickly though, grinning once more with white teeth and a sparkle in his eye. …or maybe that was just the sun. Yeah, just the sun. “Well that’s alright. There’s a park near a shopping center nearby, Maisie goes there every weekend. If you have the time, maybe we could meet there instead. Let the girls play without havin’ to be at one of our houses.” The Scot suggested. Simon glanced at Ellie again, her nod was intense. He exhaled, she wanted to see the park anyway, better to do it with someone she was friends with. He remembered going to the park alone, it was not a fun experience. “That’ll do.” He answered, following the movement of John struggling to pull his phone out, and he was admittedly confused at first when it was held out to him.

Simon looked at the cracked screen protector as a new contact page stared back at him. John said something about working out the details. Simon bit back his apprehension and took the phone, adjusting Ellie. A silent code they developed, one of many, when he needed both his hands free for a moment. She secured herself around his neck and he let her hang off him so he could take off a glove. He tapped in his number and his name, all in lowercase. John’s grin was sunshine bright as he took the device back. Simon wondered if his cheeks hurt at this point while Ellie settled back on his arm. Maisie climbed over her father, something the man seemed unphased by, helping her adjust to be on his shoulders. “Alright then! That’s solved, just let me know when you get an opening in your schedule.” John said cheerfully. The longer he spoke, the more Simon could see this man spiritually being a dog. Probably a terrier of some kind. He was way too happy. Though, really, it was an endearing quality. Certainly more pleasant than the bitter old lady across the hall.

Simon had the faintest of smiles behind his mask as he jokingly asked the man about his own schedule, seeing him ready to leave. John chuckled and gently connected his fist to Simon’s shoulder. “I’ll save you a spot, sir.” He said. Fire radiated over the blond’s skin from where John had tapped him, and he felt the air suddenly vanish from his lungs, leaving him stunned. Even after John began to leave. “Bye-bye, Ellie!” Maisie shouted back, making the little girl wave back. Simon swallowed as the urge to high tail it back home filled his nerves. He pushed it down, not for the sake of seeming brave, but quite the opposite. He wasn’t going to feel that way again, he refused. Not so soon. But as he turned to leave, and he settled on the memory of a puppy-eyed gaze and bold grin, he was worried. Very worried.

"Bloody hell.” He whispered, hugging Ellie closer. The little girl rested her head on his shoulder, eyes shut. He let himself exhale a puff of anxious breath, feeling himself settle at the sight of her peaceful form. He’d be fine. They’d be fine.

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savage-rhi · 3 months

Text

Mending Shadows // Chapter 30

Summary:

Y/N was a simple Scavenger of Lucis, until meeting a deadly blow at the hands of an infected creature. At the crossroads of death, they are found by Niflheim’s cryptic Chancellor with his own agenda. Now bonded to Ardyn Izunia, and tossed into the world of Niflheim, Y/N struggles to cope with their new life as an Imperial Icon all the while battling their feelings toward their fate and that of Ardyn’s.

Click here to read on AO3

A stampede of Accordo citizens came barreling down the road. Running for their lives like a stranded group of Anak uncertain where danger lurked. As the crowd trampled toward Ardyn and Y/N, he stood in front of them protectively; shielding them away from being lost to a sea of panicked humans. He looked over each every scared face with disdain, finding their cowardice barely palpable. Ardyn wasn’t above running away--especially if an altercation didn’t suit him--but he held his ground for Y/N’s sake.

Y/N shuddered at all the noise. The screams seemed to grow with every second as did the rumble of feet. The sensations reminded Y/N of a time they had been scavenging far too close to a battleground between Lucians and Imperials. It was near the ruins of a Crestholm village. One moment they were picking up pieces to an old radio, and the next, running for their life when gunfire flourished the landscape.

Y/N remembered two other Scavengers making a beeline out of the area, with the younger not escaping without injury. His knee had been shot. Taken out from a bullet ricocheting off debris. They never knew what became of him nor the other gentleman. It was probably for the best Y/N didn't know the outcome, although they had a strong inclination that the young one perished.

As the intrusive thought of a gaping wound manifested, Y/N felt the scourge lurch in their stomach with a menacing glee. The excitement was akin to a dog pleading with it's master to throw a ball; desperately wanting to give the toy a chase before sinking it's teeth into the rubber material. There were no words to describe how disgustingly uncomfortable it made Y/N feel as they studied Ardyn. He was shouting into the crowd at this point, demanding that someone answer for what was happening. His call fell on deaf ears, and frustration became evident with the steady rise of his voice. He was growing hostile, and it seemed to egg the scourge on further.

“Ardyn, they’re scared. They don’t know better.” Y/N interrupted, hoping redirection would change the course. “We should get out of here while we have a chance.”

Ardyn growled. He didn’t like being left in the dark, but alas Y/N was right. In the distance he could see a couple hundred more people fast approaching. At this rate, he wouldn’t be surprised if both Y/N and himself were pushed off the edge and into the ocean. The streets had little to no room at this point.

“I think that’s a splendid idea.” Ardyn said. He grabbed Y/N's hand and sprinted into the flock, shoving people out of the way while trying to make space for an easy retreat. "Whatever happens, don't let go of me!"

“Ardyn, wait! I think we need to head another way!” Y/N exclaimed.

A woman suddenly slammed into the pair, causing Y/N to be forcibly pulled from Ardyn. The pain took Y/N by surprise, and they screamed when Ardyn was no longer in their sight. His voice called out desperately, and Y/N tried to raise their hands above everyone to flag him down. The sound of his yells grew faint. Y/N felt their body being carried off like they had been caught in a riptide and dragged out to sea. Noise from all the yells and profanities disintegrated into gibberish against their ears. All they could do was relinquish control, and pray that at some point the ride would stop.

Suddenly, it became too difficult to keep their head above the masses. Y/N was being pulled under by the horde, and the thought of being stomped to death frightened them to no end. They shouted Ardyn's name repeatedly to no avail, and their lungs began to feel deprived of air and reason. That was when Y/N felt a pair of strong arms wrap around them from behind. Within a fraction of a gasp, Y/N witnessed the world split into multiple directions. Ardyn's scent was the only comfort they held onto as their body levitated.

From head to toe, Y/N felt a numbing shock that was on par with the tingling vibes one would get before their foot would fall asleep. A cloud of darkness enveloped them as time and buildings merged into a paradox of colors and shapes. Although their brain was overwhelmed, they weren't terrified. If anything they felt relief despite the urgent compulsion to throw up.

Within a matter of minutes, the fleeting moment was over. Y/N let out a deep breath, and swayed.

“Easy, easy now...” Ardyn purred. His arms moved from Y/N’s waist to their shoulders as he stabilized them. "Are you alright?"

“I think so,” Y/N replied. They basked in how Ardyn's touch grounded them to reality, and closed their eyes to avoid the hit of vertigo that arrived. "Gods, I feel drunk."

“Shadow stepping has that effect!” Ardyn chortled.

“Have you ever done that before with another person?”

“No, and I dare say I’m astounded you aren’t regurgitating breakfast.”

“Don’t jinx my luck.” Y/N sarcastically quipped. Their pulse had risen from being at the mercy of Ardyn's fingertips as he cupped their face. "Where on Eos did you take us?"

“We're near the heart of the capitol, lurking in a back alley." He turned his head to see several Accordo Troopers sprinting toward the commotion that had everyone fleeing like ants. "I got us as close as I could to the hotel. And of course, to the fun that awaits."

“The fun?”

“I need you to follow my instruction,” Ardyn turned back around. His eyes peered into theirs with an authority that Y/N recalled witnessing at Outpost 98. Although his touch had been gentle, his body radiated a dominance that near felt foreboding. He wasn’t messing around. “Take the alley here, and head East. It’s a straight shot to our lodging. I want you to find Tummelt--or another Imperial--and tell them to escort you to the airships if they haven’t been compromised. Tell them Chancellor Izunia commands it, or there will be hell to pay.”

“What are you going to do?” Y/N furrowed their brows and shook their head. “You’re not seriously going to run into whatever is happening, are you?”

“Unfortunately, I am.” Ardyn said as a matter of fact. He gave a squeeze to Y/N’s face, and let his hands fall from them. “I don’t intend to fight, but merely observe and find out who is responsible. If it’s that anti-imperial cult pulling another publicity stunt, I'll consider it Madam Secretary's qualm and fall back."

“And if it’s not, what then?”

“I’ll stand my ground, and keep observation.”

“Maybe having another pair of eyes would be beneficial. I can help with that.”

“Y/N,” Ardyn breathed. “Foreign protocol dictates that all Imperials are to leave Accordo should more than one major act of violence occur. Right now, everyone from Niflheim is in danger. Yourself included.”

“That also means you too! You’re the damn Chancellor!” Y/N protested. They nearly jumped as another explosion went off in the distance.

“And as Chancellor, I have a duty to protect the empires interests. Therefore it’s imperative I find out who we are potentially dealing with.” Ardyn said in his defense. He frowned upon seeing his words did little to sway Y/N of their opinion. “I’m counting on you to be my eyes elsewhere. Retreating safely is just as important as venturing into the fray. You might even witness something important that I and the other ambassadors can’t attend to.”

“Ardyn, I can’t let you do this on your own. Not after what you told me about Ifrit. It doesn’t feel right, none of this feels--”

“Y/N, I’m serious.” Ardyn interrupted. He clasped his right hand around theirs, holding it tight, and raised his voice. “I need you on an airship departing for Niflheim, now. Can you keep your word?”

Y/N’s mouth parted, but alas they didn’t have the strength to fight him. Not when Y/N thought about how moments ago, they were nearly trampled to death by a hundred people. They would just get in the way. The realization hurt as they nodded.

“It’s settled then,” Ardyn let out a sigh of relief.

“I have a stipulation.”

He raised a brow at Y/N’s remark, more or less amused as he huffed. “And that would be?”

“When we return home, you’re buying me something.” Y/N teased.

“Something?”

“Yep!”

“I don’t suppose you’re alluding to anything in particular?”

Y/N shrugged, shaking their head with a faint smile. “Surprise me.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ardyn scoffed before he let out a laugh. He almost couldn’t believe himself given the circumstance. He quietly regarded Y/N with a smirk, and made his decision. "I can agree to your terms so long as you adhere to mine."

Ardyn brought Y/N's hand to his lips, and planted a longing kiss to their knuckles.

“Stay safe darling," He let them go, and motioned forward with his chin. "Now go."

Y/N hesitated, biting the inside of their cheek before they turned and sprint. From the corner of their eye, they witnessed Ardyn once more shift into shadows and disappear into the buildings surrounding them. Y/N kept their eyes forward, and felt relief the further they got away from the main attack site.

Ten minutes passed before Y/N exited the alley. They cursed at themself for not having the foresight to wear normal clothes for it made running strenuous. Then again, no one was expecting a terrorist attack at dawn after a party. The sooner they could get on pants and a shirt, the more secure they’d feel.

“I don’t have time for this,” Y/N muttered to themself while catching their breath. “I gotta find Tuti and Loqui.”

Y/N glanced around, noticing more and more people beginning to appear on the street. They couldn’t tell if these were the same faces from before, or a new group entirely. Everyone was downright terrified with no sense but to find cover. Shouts exclaiming everything from Lucians to Imperials being responsible flew past Y/N’s ears. They couldn’t make sense of anything from clouds of gibberish passing through, and decided to keep their focus on Tuti and Loqui. If only for their sanity.

As Y/N searched the street signs for familiar names, they frowned upon taking heed that people were getting the idea to use the alley as an escape route. Y/N understood there was no chance going back the way they came, and tried to make peace with that as they sprinted through pockets of crowds. Their travel came to a grinding halt when they saw the hotel straight ahead. Y/N’s heart sank at the sight before them as their eyes widened.

The building was engulfed in a flurry of flames. Oranges and yellows peppered windows and columns. The fire swayed in a manner that would suggest it was downright enjoying its dance of consumption. A mixture of burnt plastic and wood infiltrated Y/N’s nose accompanied by a nauseating scent. It was putrid, like fresh leather being tanned over a flame. Even their tongue could taste the richness as Y/N came to the horrifying epiphany they were smelling burnt flesh.

As Y/N stood in horror, they witnessed several people attempting to put out the fires with buckets and hoses. Imperial soldiers, both human and magitek frantically escorted people away. A powerful crunch echoed as one of the lower floors collapsed, taking two stories down with it as fire snacked upon the entry doors. Y/N jumped back, feeling the heat despite being at a far distance. The wails and screams louder, and Y/N trembled knowing right now people were burning alive and there wasn't a damned thing they could do but watch. A gust of wind sent a plagued cloud of smoke in Y/N's direction. They shielded themself with their arms, and began to cough while ash infiltrated their throat.

The smells suddenly triggered a flashback that nearly sent Y/N to their knees. The haunting screech of an alarm from Outpost 98 traveled for what felt like miles, reverberating deep under Y/N’s skin as if Leviathan herself called out from the darkest depths. Each time they blinked, it felt as if Y/N was drifting between two worlds. Two worlds plagued by fire and darkness. Porcelain white coats were covered in saturated reds as the metallic scent of blood reeked throughout the main lab. Bloodied handprints covered windows and other mechanics. The dull wisp of a man on his last breath disappeared among a crowd of painful groans and desperate pleads. Y/N was fighting themself. Fighting a part of their being that found the carnage enthralling like a wild beast. Their conscious was screaming at the top of its lungs, but had no mouth and therefore, no living soul would hear the plead for mercy. They had no control.

“Gods!” Y/N yelled. Their hands gripped either side of their head, nails digging into their scalp to alleviate the pressure that knocked their senses into an overload. They could feel themself growing lost further and further into the past as they desperately tried to hang on. The smoke continued to waft in Y/N’s vicinity, further clouding their vision.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

That voice…Y/N held onto the frantic squeaks of Tuti as the noise increased and was accompanied by another familiar voice.

“Y/N! Stay right there, we’re coming to you!”

“Loqui!?” Y/N exclaimed as visions of themself slaughtering various people ventured in and out of their head. “Tuti, guys! Where are you?!”

“Dear, I’m right here! Y/N, I’m here!”

Through the fog that had overtaken them, Y/N felt Tuti’s small hands grip either side of their shoulders and gave a firm yet powerful shake. The strength behind her touch had Y/N open their eyes and gasp as if they had been struck by a bucket of ice water. They stared at Loqui and Tuti with bewilderment as the pair helped Y/N to their feet and rushed away from the scene.

As fresh air and blue sky came into view, Y/N coughed as their senses began to return to normal. They glanced between Tuti and Loqui, quickly looking them over for any sign of harm. The pair were covered in grime, sweat, and soot. Patches of Loqui’s uniform was burnt, but otherwise he looked unscathed. Tuti on the other hand had a bruise forming near her right eyebrow, and was near sobbing as she threw her arms around Y/N and hugged them.

“By the Gods mercy, I’m glad we found you!” Tuti exclaimed.

“You don’t know how happy I am to see you both! Thanks for getting me out of there!” Y/N smiled. They couldn’t help but grimace, feeling the whiplash that Tuti had unintentionally caused moments prior.

“And likewise from us!” Loqui coughed. “We’ve been looking for you and the Chancellor since this morning. Where is he?”

Y/N shook as they pointed toward the main street. “He’s near the House of the Courts to see if anyone needed help. He told me to find you guys and evacuate to an airship. I don’t know what’s going on, do you? What the hell happened to the hotel?"

“It was awful, Y/N! Just awful!” Tuti sobbed, interrupting Loqui before he could speak. “Everyone was at breakfast and then in a blink, there was fire and smoke! I thought I wouldn’t make it out Y/N! It all happened so fast, I had no time to process! I tried to help the staff but they---they’re---gods, Y/N, so many are dead!”

There were a handful of times where Y/N had seen Tuti angry, but they couldn’t recall a moment where she had been plagued by madness and despair. Her voice was hoarse, riddled with guilt and sorrow. Tuti let out a scream while aggressively wiping away her eyes. Y/N was at a loss for words. What could anyone say to somebody who watched a massacre happen before their eyes?

Loqui pulled Tuti into his chest. One arm went around her waist while the other pat the back of her head as she cried hard into his uniform. Y/N never felt more at ease than knowing he was here. If anyone could give Tuti stability, it would be someone like him.

“Shh, there was nothing you could’ve done differently. Look, we found Y/N. That’s what matters.”

“I know and I’m grateful! I’m grateful!” Tuti shouted.

“And no one is saying you’re not!” Loqui raised his voice. He remained firm as he softened the blow. “I need you to be strong. The Chancellor is counting on us to make it to safety. You heard Y/N yourself! I need you to stay with them while I help evacuate the ambassadors from the House of the Courts.”

“Wait,” Y/N furrowed their brows as Loqui’s eyes fell upon them. “You’re not coming with us?”

“No,” Loqui shook his head. Unlike Ardyn who seemed eager to jump into the drama, Y/N noted how Loqui was very much reluctant. “I have orders from the second battalion to aid in battle. I don’t know all the details, but it was probably those anti-imperial bastards that caused this mess. Go figure they’d take advantage of everyone having a hangover after the wedding! I’ve already heard rumors they’ve planned this stunt since their first attack was thwarted.”

Tuti let out a gasp, pushing herself back from Loqui as the fire at the hotel began to ensnare a few of the buildings next to it. Glass exploded from the heat being so hot, and shattered along the pavement and cobblestone. The trio looked at one another cautiously, unable to anticipate what would come next.

“Loqui,” Tuti swallowed, seemingly coming back to her senses. “Where did you say the airships are docked again?”

“Right,” He was tense as the hairs on the back of his neck stood while the smoke subsided a bit. Loqui realized most of the evacuees from the hotel were long gone. Either having perished from the flames, or they were led to the evacuation cars. Alas there were no more vehicles to spare, and he could see magitek soldiers making their descent toward the main highway, leaving the hotel and everyone else who wasn't an Imperial to their fate.

“Looks like we’re going to have to go with plan B,” Loqui cleared his throat. “The airships are stationed at the docks where the large import carriers come and go into Altissa. You guys have an hour to get there before they take off.”

“Only an hour?” Y/N was beside themself. “What about everyone else?”

“I’m assuming someone up the chain of the command already called for a back up ship that’s stationed on one of the smaller islands. Right now we don’t know what the enemies motivations are, and we don’t want to give them an opportunity to kidnap and hold one of our own for ransom. Hence, the time limit. Don’t worry about me, the Chancellor, or anyone else. Please get to safety, and we’ll meet up with you before you know it!”

If Y/N had the opportunity to clock both Loqui and Ardyn upside the head for playing the hero, they would’ve taken full advantage of it. Frustration with the two was a minor concern in the grand scheme of things as they could see Tuti was growing scared by the minute despite getting her bearings.

“Be careful, alright?” Y/N cautioned Loqui as he grinned.

“Aren’t I always?” He turned his head, hearing shouting in the distance. A fellow Imperial soldier was gesturing for him to get a move on. “That’s my cue! Stay off the main road, cut through the smaller districts! Follow the escort vehicles if you see them!”

In a matter of seconds, Loqui was no longer in sight as he charged. Letting out a deep breath, Y/N gathered themself and motioned for Tuti to follow them. The pair quickly made haste, getting out of the area as more smoke drifted in.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you,” Y/N said in between breaths, pushing past people to get ahead. Fire vehicles drove past at blinding speed Y/N followed Tuti down a smaller road.

“Y/N, please don’t blame yourself! I’m relieved you didn’t have to witness the travesty first hand. After everything you’ve been through, I think you’ve done enough time on the Gods behalf.” Tuti sniffled while she ran, occasionally wiping her eyes when possible. “It’s not like I knew anyone personally. I keep telling myself that. Loqui said I tried, and I did, so…I can’t look back.”

Easier said than done…Y/N thought. Tuti was handling this far better than one would expect, but it was quite obvious she was numb. Her voice was splintered, making her natural squeak sound condemned. She must've screamed her heart out. The guilt of that thought ate Y/N's spirit.

“Are you certain you didn’t see what happened?” Y/N asked.

“Positive,” Tuti replied. “One moment I was eating bacon and eggs, then suddenly the gentleman sitting across the table was on fire and the ceiling tumbled. I thought we were having an earthquake until someone screamed we were under siege. I heard something else that was peculiar, I can’t be certain but I thought I heard--”

“Hold that thought, Tuti!”

Y/N and Tuti came to an abrupt stop as a swarm of citizens arrived from the left. Seeing that there was an opening to the right, Y/N grabbed a hold of Tuti’s arm and led them both through the crowd. They were careful to brace for impact, not wanting a repeat of what happened with them and Ardyn earlier on. Once in the clear, the two darted down another road.

“Thank you!” Tuti exclaimed.

“Don’t mention it!” Y/N kept their eyes forward, not wanting to be taken by surprise anytime soon. “You were saying?”

“Oh!” Tuti looked behind, seeing more smoke and flames from afar. Although Y/N and her were putting distance between themselves and the danger, she felt like it was still right on her tail. She shivered at the thought of being burned alive while trapped under debris, and started tearing up again. “I could’ve sworn I heard someone yell, ‘Adagium!'. They were looking for Adagium! Whatever that means!"

“They?”

“Heavens to Betsy if I know who they are!” Tuti yelled. She whispered a thousand apologies toward Y/N under her breath. Her face flushing red with embarrassment at her own anger. “I didn’t mean to sound so horrid!”

“No offense taken!” Y/N hollered, darting off road as a few cars zoomed by. “It’s alright to be upset, Tuti. I'd be surprised if you weren't!"

“I feel like a coward!” Tuti confessed. “You make it seem so easy dealing with traumatic events!”

“Trust me, it’s not!” Y/N admitted, thankful that Tuti had nothing to else to say.

Between panic and the information she had dropped, Y/N felt adrenaline and concern take the plunge together. So many what ifs flooded them, and they felt their pulse drop in their throat at the thought of MedZin being behind the onslaught. No, it had to be them. Hearing that the invaders were seeking out ‘Adagium’ was too on the nose as far as Y/N was concerned. MedZin were very specific when it came to Ardyn's true identity. If there was anything Y/N could remember from Outpost 98, it was how obsessed the men and women were with saying that name.

Y/N winced as they felt their head pulse painfully. They stopped to catch their breath, right hand instinctively rubbing at the sore spot. Tuti nearly collided into their back, and took a moment to breathe as well. She was used to running around palaces, but nothing like this.

“Y/N,”

“I’ll be okay Tuti. Promise.” Y/N hissed in between grit teeth. “Son of a bitch…”

“Are you flaring from the scourge right now?”

“No,” Y/N shook their head. They calmed themself, feeling the wave begin to subside. “I mean, I don’t think so.”

“Y/N,” Tuti hesitated before placing a hand upon their shoulder. “When Loqui and I found you, what was going on? You looked off more than usual.”

“I’m not even sure to be honest,” Y/N said sincerely. They grimaced a final time, and then the searing throb departed for now. “I felt like I was…glitching?”

“Glitching?” Tuti let out a breath.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded. “That’s the best I can describe it. It wasn’t like the flare when we dined with the Serpent Society. I thought I was losing my mind. That I was becoming something else."

The two remained in silence, letting thoughts and contemplations drift. Tuti let go of Y/N, and faced them. The way she glared reminded Y/N of Ardyn when he was angry at something external, while his eyes were soft for them.

“Y/N, this ‘Adagium’ thing…is that you? Is this why Chancellor Izunia has protected you, aside from finding a cure for the scourge?"

“I don’t--” Y/N paused. They found it odd how they couldn’t answer Tuti, even though they knew better. Even though it was the truth that they weren't the accursed daemon that would bring Eos to its knees. No. That title alone belonged to Ardyn. Yet with how connected Y/N had become to him, they felt an equal responsibility to the burden of the name. Especially with the sins Ardyn and they committed.

They felt their stomach twist in knots. The bodies in the lab, and the corpses of the three they had killed after the goblin attack seemed to twist and meld together. Y/N wondered if these were Ardyn’s memories of Outpost 98 blending with their own crimes. It explained the sinister aura, but it didn’t account for just how personal it was.

Experiencing Ardyn’s memories of the past had an intimacy that couldn’t be described, and this held a different signature. A different energy. Y/N realized they were starting to sound like one of the devotees of the Hexatheon, believing in superstition, but with everything they had come to know about the world through Ardyn, perhaps it wasn’t so crazy.

“Y/N, look out!” Tuti screamed as she pointed behind them. What looked to be an explosive orb was flying straight toward the pair. By the time Y/N turned their head to register what had startled her, it was too late. The events unfolded so painfully quick that Y/N’s mind felt like a photographer trying to capture every second of an experience out of desperation.

All oxygen in the vicinity temporarily ceased before it expanded in pulsation, like ripples in a pool of water after tossing a rock into it. Then came the shock wave. It hit both Y/N and Tuti with a smashing force that sent either flying in opposite directions. Y/N felt the wind knock out of their body as ribs cracked. The sphere then exploded into a blinding light, as if the sun itself fell from the sky. Y/N’s vision was trapped in a warm white light with nothing but the sound of ringing in their ears. The world beyond this didn’t exist. Nothing did. But the pain--oh by the Gods--the pain was unbearable. The surface level of skin hadn't burned, yet the layers of tissue and muscle underneath the flesh might as well had been doused in magma and flayed.

Y/N remained lost in that white light long after their body crashed. They didn’t feel the shrapnel embed into their arms and legs. Nor did they register how parts of the building they had crashed into beat them further. Their conscious was trapped in that white void, and not a damn thing could break through. Eternity seemed to pass, as Y/N had no concept of time. They had no concept of anything, but the hot light and how they felt like fire itself.

The shrills of Tuti’s voice drowned out the white noise. The ringing ceased, and Y/N’s eyes sucked in the worlds colors as they gasped aloud. Their voice cracked, tasting bile and blood in their throat. As they came to, they fixated on Tuti who was crawling through a hole in the wall from the outside world, trying in vain to reach them.

“Y/N!” Tuti screeched. “Y/N! Gods damn it! Y/N!”

Then the men came. Four of them. Their uniforms were blurred, but Y/N could see the signature black that marked Lucians. Then there was the fuzzy color of the MedZin patch.

Oh no... Y/N gargled on their own spit, choking on the copper taste of their blood.

“Let go of me! Let go of me you fuckers!” Tuti exclaimed. All Y/N could do was watch as the men hauled her away. Distorted voices made proclamations and demands. Y/N couldn’t make sense of any of it. It grew worse as another voice made itself known in the back of Y/N’s skull. A horde of monstrous spirits that had been yearning to come forth and do what it knew best: survive and spread.

“The target has been compromised,” One of the men said, shaking his head with disappointment as he communicated further into his radio. “Yes, the Adagium is still alive. I’m looking right at it.”

Adagium…? I’m not… Y/N was slipping away into the backseat of their own head. The scourge began to slink it’s fingers around the wheel, and Y/N felt their body wanting to split in half as their vision became pixelated and dark.

“We need to move! The distraction at the House of the Courts is unfolding! The Imperials are fending off the men we sent!”

“Wouldn’t it be better this way? If Adagium is dead, that means the world is safe.”

“We have orders to bring it in alive, at least until we can figure out how it’s spread the scourge. We can’t let emotions interfere with our mission.”

“Guys, what about the Imperial, what do we do with her?”

“Kill her. We got what we came for.”

“That seems like such a waste. She didn’t do anything!”

“If you can’t do your job, then I’ll do it for you! Now get to it, and hurry!”

With those words spoken, fates were sealed as Y/N’s body fell high to a rush of adrenaline that would’ve killed the average man in seconds. The scourge burst like a sewer pipe, flooding every pore and organ. Muscles quaked violently as Y/N’s senses sharpened like a steady knife being polished. Pain was an illusion as they rose from the ashes and let out a scream so loud, their chest felt too small for their lungs. Their skin began to turn a pale purple, as if their blood had fully retreated from their veins. The black spider webbing of the scourge tattooed every pore and crevice. Their eyes were consumed by a pitch black void, save for the ember yellow around their pupils.

What was left of Y/N’s humanity in that split second succumbed to the dark passenger within their mind, and they were filled with a deep and terrible rage. An instantaneous image of Ardyn’s point of view flashed behind Y/N’s eyes, indicating he was greatly disturbed, and then they charged from one person to the next. The sound of screaming was the last thing Y/N heard before their body acted upon its own will.

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