[Lawbringer]

Letting out a laboured sigh, Max slowly peeled the athletic tape off his shoulder, the skin stretching at where a gnarly scar had once put his durability to the test. If he had been anybody else, if his quirk had been slightly too slow, it would’ve probably ended his hero career or at the best left him a one-armed fighter. The grace of an expect surgeon had given his durability a chance to do its magic just in time.

It was a reminder that for how tough he was, he wasn’t invincible. Like the many scars littering him, every one of them a close call that probably shouldn’t have been so close. It was youthful arrogance, a blind faith in his quirk to do the deal, and a dogged determination to be the last person standing in every fight, regardless of the cost…

Now it meant that he spent most of his exercise time keeping those parts of his body in working condition between painful stretches and equally unpleasant rehab exercises that had become second nature.

… Now the locker closed for the evening, he had put on a clean shirt and a tracksuit and slung his bag across… his other shoulder. Letting himself walk out of the U.A. Gym that made every other gym look like a dump.

Despite it being the time that most people would’ve turned in for the day, U.A. was one of those places where there were usually others working out after hours. Between faculty like him, and students that either felt like they had to push themselves to keep up with the rest, or ones that had to distract themselves from something else.

And sometimes, the errant sheep that simply had an excess of anger and energy that they needed to get out of their system. And so he parked himself at the door of one of the gymnasiums, state-of-the-art opportunities ranging from simple gymnastics to live training exercises with bots that pulled their punches just enough to not straight up kill you.

Enma Arashi was busy taking it out on those bots with a level of aggression ill-befitting a student, let alone a wannabe hero. Max had all the time to walk in, not being noticed in the flurry of action, and take a seat.

It was an impressive amount of minutes that they kept it up, with an ending that had been obvious from the start, if not for the seemingly insurmountable odds.

”Your technique is sound, but you need to stop tensing when you strike… ” Max added as a most likely unwanted suggestion, he grabbed one of the bottles next to the bench and tossed it at the second year.

”By tensing up you’re wasting energy both in yourself and your swing.” he added.

He wasn’t experienced with swords per say, but had worked with plenty of heroes that were. And despite their attempts to teach them, some of their teachings had stuck throughout the years.

enma

[enma]

There was a lot of darkness in Enma that didn't get released on a regular basis. As a second-year with his provisional license, he hasn't gone into the field much because of the insecurity that he hardly spoke of. The katana wielding student had often trained outside of the times people did to quietly strengthen himself. He didn't want popularity, he wanted action. He couldn't do that when he felt too weak to prevent something like what took family from him.

So he came to one of the facilities for physical training and setup the sparring bots. At first, it began as a calm and collected expression of physicality. He mixed in strikes from his own body while wielding Raiju to temper his ability to fight while keeping that extension of his on standby. The villain bots he used were likely a surprising difficulty level for a second-year, but his natural athleticism made him potent when combined with focused skills.

As he took down the bots, he would begin thinking. Enma's way of speaking was through the violence this training regimen called out of him. The weaker bots would be crushed by the haymakers and diving kicks as he maneuvered through the replicated city-scape. The more he fought, the more the tension came through his emotions. Eventually, there would be an unsuspecting surveyor that would catch him beating on one of the villain bots with the sheathed Raiju.

Blots of colorful energy emitted from his skin, which swirled with the gradient of Starry Night upon the surface of the blade. As he felt the severe damaging and denting of metal frame against the blunt of Raiju's sheath, Enma would feel a release of pent up, dark emotion. It's as if this was how he screamed about his failure to save his mother and how this villain bot was an augury of the real villains of the world.

Crushing the bot into pieces, he would give his voyeur a cold look. This was just his natural look, but his crimson eyes would be like two blood arrows filled with discomfort. "I didn't know I would have company." Plainly spoken, Enma would hesitate while digesting what he was told. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the long sleeve of his black athletic attire, he would hold Raiju with bridged fingers behind his back horizontally.

"Tensing at the finality of your strike maximizes strength. I try not to tense too early. Arashi, Enma. Nice to meet you, I presume you're the new teacher I've yet to meet?" While cordial as Enma was taught to respect authority figures, he was still very uncomfortable with being seen where he normally has privacy. While there was nuance to the tension of his blows, there was certain social anxiety in the tension of his speech.

Lawbringer

[Lawbringer]

”I didn’t expect a student to still be working out four hours after the last class, so my curiosity got the better of me.” He’d dryly retort.

One of those little things he was learning about since coming to U.A., the students were a different breed. People liked to use that concept loosely, almost jokingly. But U.A. students truly were on a different level, compared to when he got his license well into his thirties, there were first years that in terms of ability and talent were well ahead of the curve than he ever had been.

He was certain there were students at U.A. that in a straight fight would probably beat him, and that scared him greatly. Not that he was afraid of getting beat, but such unfathomable power was being handled young men and women that were barely of drinking age, with no experience and little training to keep it from unravelling when things didn’t go as planned.

”Max Deveraux, or ‘Lawbringer’ if you want to be official.” he’d greet back to the second year. ”And yes, I started this semester, maybe you’ll wind up in one of my classes at some point.” he’d answer further.

Although most of his classes were partially opt-in, and things that most people tended to actively avoid. Heroes in training liked the part where they’d get to smash things, or flex their powers… Rather than having to internalize the finer points about ethics and law.

”How long have you been wielding a sword?” he’d ask somewhat bluntly, which could easily be construed as an interrogation. ”I’m not a swordsman myself, but it seems… official, like you’ve learned it before you gained your quirk?” he’d add.

The truth was, he had glossed over most students’ files and had a general idea of who they were and what they could do, it was a level of due diligence he felt was required to ensure he could actually give the students the right tutelage if needed…

… But he still preferred to hear their own stories.

enma

[enma]

It was true that Enma spent a lot of time training outside of school hours. Away from everyone, in isolation and where he can free his mind. The bots behind him that were crushed were evidence that this was more than just body conditioning. There was the intent for him to be efficient and brutal behind his blows. Some might see it as anger management with machinery, but that would require not having the harsh sense of justice that Enma had.

"I have kept to myself well enough. Second-year and I've yet to make much of a name for myself. In pursuit of higher education, I prefer it that way." Nodding professionally, Enma adverted eye contact when he could as he had not expected the French transfer to suddenly meet the budding hero. "Deveraux-senpai, what subject will you be focused on?" Out of genuine curiosity, the swordsman pondered if the new teacher would be someone who could provide a new level of development he hadn't considered.

As Lawbringer asked about Enma's penchant for swordplay, it made him think on Raiju's relation to Papa Arashi, Enma's grandfather. It was a skill that had deep, rich history with their family. It might've skipped a generation, but it came naturally to the bitter student. Vengeance was seeped into every fiber of his body and would only ink upon the world through the brush that was Raiju. "Yes, I was raised by my grandfather. He taught me self-defense and how to wield the blade. I've been aspiring to be a hero since youth."

While his quirk existed all his life, giving fluttering images that sprouted from his imagination, he hadn't considered how equally second-nature wielding a katana had been. Clearing his throat after a bit of awkward silence that would pass, Enma would dart his eyes to the side and wondered if he was going to be allowed to continue. "So...Deveraux-senpai, may I continue my training?"

Lawbringer

[Lawbringer]

”Sounds like your grandfather taught you well.” he’d say in genuine praise.

Although he wondered how much such trainings had come with the added cost of high demands and expectations that some students seemed to struggle under, ‘aspiring to be a hero at a young age’ was one of those lines that genuinely made Max shudder a little, they were fun things to want to be as a youngster, like football player or rockstar… But there was a difference between aspiring in a healthy manner, and being driven to a fault.

They hoped that it was the former, rather than the latter.

He only knew a small part of such things, he never was expected to be a hero when he was young, but his father had drilled his morals into him relentlessly and tirelessly until those same morals came back to haunt him.

Max had carried those teachings with him every day since, both positively and negatively.

”I only teach the exciting courses like ethics and law. Stuff concerning how to best work together with law enforcement, really riveting.” he’d say in jest, he knew that the students weren’t waiting on hitting the books, and his courses were the epitome of that.

”But I can maybe give some physical classes sometime.” he’d add, glancing at the blade. ”Ever thought about how you’d fight if you didn’t have the sword?” he’d pondered out loud in words that could be deliberately construed as a challenge.

”Not that I doubt your skills with a sword, or your ability to keep it. But there's always going to be a time where you can't rely on it.”

enma

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[enma]

Papa Arashi was a tough teacher, but he was thorough and somewhat fair. Traditional in many ways, but keen and direct. He wouldn't pretend he was out-of-date on what he didn't know, but question that man's understanding of the art of the sword? He would not let it stand. Enma smiled quickly and almost automatically when thinking of what his grandfather gave him, being so many miles away now that the young man was at UA, but he put the smile away when he noticed.

"It wasn't easy, but yes." Nodding his head, he was a relatively simple person when it came to talking about his own history. What intrigued him was what Lawbringer brought to the table. Ethics and law. There was a romanticism to the prospect of working in the Hero industry. Being a hero, being a support hero; these things were idolized. Enma knew it was a tough job and a very real one.

The showboating was the ugliest part of it to him, true heroism came from sacrifice in his eyes. "Proper procedure is important, but I imagine that ethics and law are sometimes at odds." He was bold in his assumption, but hoped that it showed that Enma had a keen enough mind for the work. Pure, chaotic idiots had no place in being a hero when their recklessness and naivety would get people killed.

"I need to train myself to fight without it, honestly. It is a critical part of my approach to field combat due to...my quirk..." Almost like he was submitting an official report, Enma realized that he didn't necessarily have to give so much detail. He was not a showy type, and would've hated being teased for the artsy side of his quirk. "Deveraux-senpai, I would appreciate a training companion that could physically handle me."

Enma typically wasn't a bold person, but his pure physicality needed to be honed more properly. A teacher like Deveraux could be essential to taking the next step to becoming an indomitable force.

Lawbringer

[Lawbringer]

Max couldn’t help but flash the faintest of predatory grins at the offer for a training companion, he’d be lying if he wasn’t looking to test himself against some of U.A.’s finest.

It was a selfish want, honestly not the right attitude to have as a teacher towards a student. But for his own sake he needed to know where he stood, at least to kill the curiosity and figure out where he stood for himself.

“I wouldn’t mind a little extra practice tonight.” he’d accept as he loosened up his shoulder a little bit more.

He wouldn’t go all out, not at the beginning at least, instead he’d opt for a defensive stance. It was his comfort zone, let the opponent push him and counter where needed.

“How about we start with you showing off your fighting style, go easy and show me the basics of how you fight…” he’d say, the teacher inside of him showing up and him getting positioned into his own defensive stance.

All he hoped for, genuinely as a teacher, that Enma was actually trained in hand-to-hand in some way. Because he really would have words with his teacher if all the student could show was the rough swings of an untrained brawler.

enma

[enma]

Knowing that his hand-to-hand combat had received very little attention, Enma knew that he was going to need to make himself look the fool without his sword. He couldn't teach himself hand-to-hand, but he could hone the skills he was already taught. Making sure Raiju was safe within its sheath, he pressed the bottom of it into the ground. With enough strength, he would bury it about an eighth of the way down to keep it from tumbling over.

Stretching his arms and feeling the movement in his sleeve-hidden muscles, he would begin limbering up to keep the blood flowing from his prior practice. "I must advise that I don't want you to think you'll hurt me so easily. If you do, it's all part of growth." Enma was so serious in the way that he portrayed himself, but that was how Papa Arashi taught him. He needed to be broken to heal back stronger than ever.

Max was still right, they needed to ease into it as it was their first time. Enma didn't have the technique down, but he simulated some of the kung-fu he had observed and some of the tai chi he was taught to enhance his stamina. "It will be nice to face a professional hero, I expect I won't hurt you much." Once there was adequate time for the both of them, Enma didn't hold back physically. The way he ran was that of a trained fighter, but he approached with an overhead haymaker.

He knew how to build up momentum and strike powerfully, but he didn't know how to plan out his unarmed combat. The first attack was about as good as it could get, though the intense physicality was apparent. From his step, cracks formed under the ground as he pushed himself off. With raw strength, the might of his blow could likely be felt. If Max blocked, it might not feel like much to his quirk. If he dodged, a concussive force would spread across the ground and cave it in a bit as dirt would erupt from it.

Lawbringer

[Lawbringer]

Keeping on his tracksuit, Max simply stayed silent at the student’s assumptions of not hurting him or him hurting them. Max knew better than to slip into complacency, even someone who he doubled in age. If they were part of U.A., they had the capabilities to deal a massive world of hurt to most people.

The first attack, somewhat annoyingly, was a very heavy overhead. The power to throw him off his feet, but telegraphed to such a point that he had stepped aside and ready to counter. But rather than throw a punch back, he gave Enma a shove.

“Come on, how about you try something less obvious, even someone as old as me can counter that.” he’d say with a venom on his tongue that seemed excessive.

But he both wanted to see what the kid had to offer, as well as push their buttons to see if there was more under the surface. Strip away the rational thought, and aim to see them act on instinct and emotion.

enma

[enma]

Of course, Enma was foolish for having such an easy choice of attack. Lawbringer was fresh, uninjured and staring directly at him. Even if he was fast and strong, the man would just know where to move and didn't have to worry about the boy adjusting. The difference between using a weapon and not was also the difference in how committal certain attacks were as well as the ability to adjust fluidly.

He should know better, which made him feel frustrated. As he was shoved, it would catch him off guard and make him stumble back as he was lost in his own thoughts. Clearly, Enma needed to think about how he was going to adapt himself. Taking a moment to breath squarely, he would zoom forward once more. This time, he would keep his senses sharp and not commit to a full-force attack. As the distance closed with his speed, he would throw a simple jab.

This jab would be followed by a second in quick succession, throwing jabs like a double barrel shotgun. To end the rhythmic attacks, he would try to strike with a side elbow. Fully expecting Lawbringer to block, he wouldn't hold back as he wanted to be quick, efficient, and chip away at that armor. Enma couldn't believe how the teacher was talking to him, but he could believe what he said. He needed to do better, show that Helsing was capable with or without his sword.

"Keep pushing me, Deveraux-senpai."

Lawbringer

[Lawbringer]

Ever so slowly it seemed that the student was pushing himself a bit more, the strikes were still sloppy and unfocused, mostly just looking to use their stamina to throw a lot of punches in a short span of times in an effort of overwhelming his opponent and landing some hits.

It would work against untrained opponents, people who’d equally were unskilled at hand to hand combat who could get overwhelmed by ferocity rather than skill. But Max was neither untrained, nor did he need to feel threatened by volume.

Partially showing off and partially efficiency, Max merely focused on throwing back the punches that aimed at his face. His quirk making his skin extremely durable, it would probably take seconds before the young man started noticing that it would feel like throwing hands against a life sized heavybag made out of steel. His body had ‘some’ give, so it shouldn’t shatter his knuckles, but his mind would (if he had sense) start flinching at the thought of throwing further.

“You need more than that, speed won’t work on me, and power won’t either…” he’d call out as he levelled his forearm to a blow and would create a little more distance, staying defensive and passive, but giving his student time to think about his approach. “You need precision, accuracy, efficiency. You got speed and power, and it’ll work on most, but approach your hand-to-hand combat like you would use your sword.” he’d lecture, maybe even stating the obvious.

He stood still and shifted his weight. “Use your quirk, use your swordsmanship, but use it with your body instead. And try to either cut or stab through me.” he’d propose, hoping he’d understand it wasn’t meant literally.

enma

[enma]

With reckless blows, Enma surely wouldn't sunder anything. When there was nothing in his hands, he began to realize the weight of his fists. The balance was not quite the same feeling as Japanese steel slicing through the air. No, these were blunt forces being levied that weren't indestructible either. Enma, catching his breath, would look at his teacher and wonder what the next move was. Lawbringer was right, as he needed to combine more than just being fast and strong.

"Okay...Your body is strong. I've heard that the strongest skin comes from the most broken men that heal through the trauma. I can only imagine..." Striking a stance once more and analyzing his approach, he needed to think and refine like a master of war. Making subconscious adjustments and muttering under his breath in between words the exact thoughts, Enma showed he wasn't some lunkhead.

"...What you've been through to be that tough. If you're a shield, then I'm a sword." This next approach was a bit more calculated. Before, Lawbringer was deflecting his blows through sheer anticipation. This time, Enma wanted to use a series of jabs and shifting movement to test and overload Lawbringer's capabilities. Low committal, numerous strikes should be good enough for finding a crack in his reactions.

Maybe no crack in the armor, but if he could just find a way...then he would finally land a proper attack. "My quirk doesn't work with my body, but my power comes from me still." Throwing in a feint, he'd use it to try and slip a punch for the man's solar plexus. It was still sloppy, but the approach showed adaptation that only natural born warriors had the knack for in the heat of a fight.

"Was that better?" He'd ask, success or failure aside. If Lawbringer saw that he was making improvements, then it meant that he wasn't beating a dead horse.

Lawbringer