It almost happened then and there. Enma's urges were getting the better of him, chipping away at the discipline he had been taught and honed for years. Almost as if all of his scars had fizzled away in Masao's presence, he felt soft and elegant for the first time in his life. It wasn't because of his own personal feelings, but because of her eyes captivating him. So much was expressed in their silence, a way of communicating between two people like Masao and Enma.

Sincerity was crucial and it required one major component: trust. Feeling real trust in Masao forming, it was making the eagerness to prove his sincerity so strong. The elegant being that made Paragon a reality showed how beauty wasn't just about conventions, but an all-encompassing fact. She could have shown up dressed in full plate and he would have been captivated all the same. Taking her hand, there would come a serenity that could not have been anticipated.

Slender, soft, angelic hands that contrasted his thick, rough, demonic own. Fire and ice, but while his insecurity regarding his swordsman's hands would breathe for a moment, she would steal it. The insecurity was gone as their intertwining fingers felt so natural when woven together. Enma couldn't help but let a gasp out as they prepared to enter the art museum. They would examine the displays and he would examine her fiery face. A forge in itself, it made him get lost in thought.

Her angelic hands, working him in the molten heat of passion. Being the sword encapsulated by her forge, she would likely staunch him with sweet words and safe holding. These thoughts would burn through his mind and warm his cheeks. Eventually, they would near the surprise after seeing so many classic exhibits. Japanese art at its finest, but one piece would hold particular value to Enma. As he was from a family that used their quirk in many ways, some did become artists.

They approached a beautiful painting of a caged lady with angel wings. Dark hair, rosy lips and a porcelain body and dress. She would have closed lids, eye lashes flared and elegant. Soft but complex colors, inspired by the works of Van Gogh in texture. It was not a traditional painting in Japan, but one that was admired often by Enma. The plaque next to the painting stated Arashi Hana. "This museum holds my sister's painting and has become a mainstay. The owner is friends with my father."

The way he talked about it was light-hearted at first, but upon deeper thought it might become more apparent to Masao that there's a hidden sadness. A vulnerability even, as his hand squeezed hers. "She is no longer with us...and is part of why I decided to become a hero." Maybe making the date start with the museum trip was selfish in a way, but he had hoped that Masao could enjoy the rest of the works they would find. He hoped she would understand what it meant.

Masao Ando

In a weird way, Enma was using the bomb run exercise to see how quickly he could find and take down targets. There were no hostages to consider, maybe obstructions from damaged buildings. If it was smashing pumpkins, then he was going to channel the killer in him to dispatch the little jacks. While he wasn't a social butterfly, a sense of duty would also channel to help break the nerves of the student lagging behind. Another was more aimlessly running, which meant he shouldn't just take it upon himself to crush every pumpkin.

But wasn't that more efficient? Should he wait for them to get some pumpkin smashing in or should he treat it like a real hazard and just take care of it? Being a leader was the natural choice here when the other two had no idea what they were doing, but it felt like such a drag. Sliding along the upper floors of buildings by ducking obstacles, diving through openings and swinging off a stray pole, he would do a gymnastic spin before launching himself upwards.

"Gotoh, three buildings to your left, bomb on the rooftop!" Landing into a roll along the building adjacent to where he came from, his little gymnastic spring let him view a few buildings away, seeing a rather large jack-o-lantern glowing from the eyes. Could she make it there in a timely fashion? He made sure to announce it when she was outside, and as he continued running, he would catch a glimpse of an alley close to the third student.

"Sakurai, you're running by an alley! I see the pumpkin in there." Looking ahead, he would shift into a slide off the building's side just in time to avoid a flower pot from smashing against his face. Sliding off the building, he would press his body against the wall of the next building and claw his fingers into its concrete. Surprisingly, he would dig in with relative ease as he slowed his descent.

Leaving lines behind with sheer grip, he would dash back onto the main street before thinking of remaining locations. "Next quadrant!" Yelling out, he would pivot as any remaining pumpkins would likely be in the next quadrant of the training facility. How thorough would they be with "bomb" placement?

Rin Momoiro Sakurai Lucille Arbogast

This person was going to really test Enma's product knowledge. He hated the idea of putting to use what he learned, but the good news was that he gained product knowledge out of spite. It took a bit of listening, but Enma knew exactly what to grab for the fellow student. "I have festival-themed bracelets in all colors, three different styles." Presenting the three styles of yellow bracelets, they were all a sporty silicone.

The first option was a solid-yellow band with the UA logo pressed into it. The second had a diagonal, white with black border stripe that indicated how to orient the wristband that had a colorful UA logo on it. The third was yellow with a solid black stripe running along the center of the band with the UA logo in the center, again indicating where to orient the band. "Same price, normally they're one-thousand yen a bracelet. Right now, they're six-hundred yen as a promotional price."

After the student would select what bracelets she wanted, he would move on to suggesting a few water bottles. "These are equivalent to that famous Danley tumbler from the States. Those are normally eight-thousand yen, ours are normally five-thousand and they're on promotion for twenty-five-hundred. Plus, they have a lifetime limited warranty included." As they would get through the business, she would eventually introduce herself.

Nodding, wondering if she's seen him on school grounds before, he would give a courteous but awkward smile. "Arashi, Enma. Second-year, department of heroes." Accepting the handshake, he would give it one good shake and a nod and continue moving along. "For today I unfortunately have to work the equipment stand my father sets up. I hope you're having a lot of fun with the festival." It was the routine of customer service, but really he was disappointed he couldn't do anything exciting like engage in the fights.

Some events, like the balloon popping, were not much of interest. If there were awards, however, he would be drawn to the activities. At least he was being paid double-time for working the stand.

Takanashi Misaki

The quiet wasn't unwelcome. Enma knew to talk when it was necessary, but he liked to be able to recede socially and focus on the prowl. A night crawl along Shinjuku for any do-baddies that would need to be relieved of their ill profession. Yuki Onna was the kind of hero that he found himself drawn to, a person he could just work efficiently before. There wasn't much for her to operate off of, but he wondered what her impression of him was so far.

Did she respect the intuition he displayed? His approach was to be as honest of a patrolman as he could be. Help those in need, stop those who endanger the path. In that sense, he was nervous. Distracting himself, he started deeply analyzing his surroundings. Light pollution acted as a thick mask between the mortal world and the stars in the sky, something that made him miss the countryside. The rain thickened and droplets coagulated on windows.

Coagulated? The viscosity was strange. That was when an apparition formed from the drenching rain and attempted to entangle him with its monstrous appendage. It was time for action, and the demonic look on Enma's face would come purely from those crimson eyes. To Masao, they were sweet roses. To those targeted by Helsing's fury, it was a glimpse into the fires of the abyss. With as much strength as he could muster, he would lunge the sheathed Raiju into the apparition.

Hoping they would erupt and the water would scatter, he anticipated them to be creations of another. Breaking the surface tension of an elemental seemed the logical step. Until something dawned on him: the positioning of the elemental and suddenly missing hero.

Shirayuki Mai

Emotions are difficult. Enma couldn't help but be consumed by the complex feelings he was having and while he was not shy in giving attention to Masao in their texting and training, there was something else running parallel. Fear and anxiety took a form he'd never seen before. How does a warrior slay an enemy he knows nothing about? This beast to tackle wasn't the kind fought conventionally, but more of a large puzzle that demanded so much more.

He felt like sweet honey was flooding his heart and making his breathing heavier. To work out this feeling, he would go train and push through it with adrenaline. In a way, she pushed him to be even stronger than before. He could feel so much good coming from their relationship. Mentally, he was stronger too. A muscle was being trained that had been neglected and while he had to contend with the fear that tried swallowing all who succumbed, he approached it like a warrior.

Like Van Helsing learning every bit about Dracula and his kind, or David readying his sling against the Goliath; Enma arrived early for their date prepared as ever. Masao wasn't someone to be feared, but respected. Fear was reserved for the act of boring her, disappointing her, hurting her. With a bouquet of flowers in hand, he showed up in a grey-black turtleneck that really didn't hide his muscles. He wore black dress pants and a red leather belt and gold buckle. The shoes on his feet had a light design on them with a matte finish.

Unfortunately, he tried new things and felt the chaos chew away at him. To his surprise, he was not early. Seeing Masao dressed androgynous as she was and beating him to the punch, he turned cherry-red and flattened his oral expression. This was a sign that he didn't know what to do with his face, but was absolutely captivated by her beauty. My heart is slain. Clutching his chest, it began to shine as he paused.

Stepping forward, he presented the flowers. "Masao, you are stunning and look strong." As cool as a cucumber boiling in a pot, he tried his best to keep eye contact so that he didn't show fear. "I'm excited to see some classic pieces. I have a surprise for you as well."

Masao Ando

The sign-ups for the Sports Festival that ran through its duration allowed for one reprieve from Enma's volunteer work. He only had to work two days for his father, the rest was fair game and he intended on making his mark. Not through words, but through action. The part he looked forward to most: the combat exhibition. While they participated in their U.A.U. training uniforms, he wished that he could have customized the color a bit.

Enma didn't like how colorful he looked with the red, white and blue that U.A.U. adopted. While they briefly told the participants of their opponent, it was mere moments before they would meet. To most, Enma might not seem impressive. Through raw training, he had grown to be incredibly physical and efficient. This was the time where he would let loose and apply it. For this competition, there was no mercy and no holding back.

Taking his place in the arena, he limbered up as he anticipated facing 'Oniki'. As the announcers took their cue and he would ahead at the rather small build of the student, he offered no niceties or smiles.

"HELSING VERSUS ONIKI. TWO LITTLE TITANS WHO PACK A PUNCH. LET'S SEE HOW THEIR TRAINING PAYS OFF! REMEMBER TO BE GOOD SPORTS, AND GOOD LUCK!"

Enma didn't draw his katana, standing with readiness to draw, he stared down his opponent. Would they exchange words? Would they just fight? As a simple warrior, he had a very basic demeanor and he wondered how Oniki would start the fight off.

Yanai Yoko

The hunt was on. Enma showed up in dark training cloths that covered up his skin as well as a black medical mask. This was, unfortunately, his hero uniform. As he stood there waiting patiently for the instruction to end, he felt tempted to text Masao about him participating in the training exercise. He was unsure if he should participate in a group or rely on himself. Holding Raiju by the tsuba, upside-down and behind his arm, he dashed forward at incredible speeds as soon as they were released.

Having trained at the USJ extensively on his own through available extracurricular studies, Enma felt comfortable exploring the cityscape simulated by the academy. It was amazing what they could do, carving out their own slice of Tokyo. He wasn't good at working with others, but he knew that would need to change. Without much time to prepare, however, he needed to disarm those bombs. Depending on what would appear before him, he would need to call out to someone who could if it was beyond him.

The immediate hope was that he could whack them and that would be all that was needed. Realistically, bombs weren't disarmed that way. This was a training exercise, so they kept it simple. Coming upon a parking complex, he would dash at it and leap, a burst of debris rising from underneath his step. Jumping with raw strength to the second floor, he would bring his arms in with the lunging leap and slide along the ground.

He was strong, but he couldn't necessarily break anything. Racing to the top of the complex, Enma's physicality showed. Coming to a sliding stop at the corner of one of the mid-levels, he would find a bomb. Leaning outside, he would call out to the nervous girl. "Bomb located!" That's where he would approach to see how to disarm it.

Oh, it was a jack-o-lantern. Actually. This one was rather large and lop-sided, with a candle illuminating its insides. Bringing his sheathed sword up, he swung it down and smashed the pumpkin. Leaning out once more, he announced, "They're pumpkins! Just smash them." Leaping from the apartment complex and landing against the flat wall of the next building, he would slide down and continue onward.

Rin Mar Lucille Arbogast