By policy of the company, Enma had to offer certain services and products to keep the revenue flowing in. Upsell, recommend warranties, sign people up for rewards. Often times, he would only do some of it half-heartedly as he didn't believe in roping anyone into something they didn't want. There were certain combinations of items or certain services he believed in, so he did give his professional recommendation. Still, he abhorred the job. During the Sports Festival, his father expected him to use the little social energy he had to keep up the performance.

Someone, anyone, save me. As a person approached asking for discounts, he was turned around and sighed before turning around with his stoic professionalism. "We have a buy-more-save-more deal going on. Depending on how much you spend, you will have an increasing discount. It's a great time for getting multiple things if you're planning on it. It starts at ten-percent off, goes up to thirty-percent off." Nodding, he would wait to hear her order or desired items.

His father was lucky his son was in hero-condition. The swordsman could zoom across the stall and keep service time at a low without exhausting himself. Outside of the sports gear, there was a plethora of decorative merchandise that helped represent the brand. "Right now, as well, we have buy-one-get-one on any wristbands or reusable ice packs." At least his father didn't do mark-ups for the stuff, otherwise Enma would have downright refused to work the event.

Takanashi Misaki

Emotions were a tricky thing to navigate when someone wasn't raised to be emotional. His father's jolly outside and harsh inside made Enma feel like happiness was fake. His grandfather trained him to be an efficient swordsman in a variety of methods that broke and rebuilt his body. Sometimes, when Enma looked in the mirror without his clothes, he saw a canvas of scars not only externally...but internally. To feel happiness and excitement shared with another person felt like a unraveling a mystery of the world.

So this was what it felt like?

The territory was unfamiliar and he needed Masao's hand in it. There was something igniting in his heart that he momentarily thought was like when he ate too much spicy food, but it was far greater of a feeling than that. Fire in his belly, fire in his heart; Enma felt like a forge of his own. Looking at Masao practice with her own sword, he momentarily burped translucent, orange energy that rolled out like fire before dissipating as it had no surface to cling to.

Clenching his stomach like there was something knotting it up, Enma didn't expect his quirk to come out in such a way. She eventually would inspect her sword and make sure it would retract as intended. The beauty of Masao scintillated to the swordsman, as he pondered being around someone so remarkable. Clearing his throat and clutching his new sword closely, he anticipated her next words. She asked him to forego the formalities, and it felt like a thing only the two of them would share.

To have a unique bond and unique boundaries, it brought him closer to her. Stepping into her space in a trance-like captivation, he looked up at her with his rosy eyes and while his tone would not give it away, felt the fluctuating beat of his heart almost make him stammer. "Of course, Masao. I'd like to hear you call me Enma instead of Arashi." After she had bowed, he had been too close to do the same.

This time, Enma couldn't realize that he was in her space as her reddened face had charmed him so. "Masao, I'd like to see you outside of our training or transactions." Radiating from his chest was the imprint of a conventional, rosy heart. Another moment out of his control, but as the light shimmered across his face, he gave an anxious yelp and covered his chest. When he looked back at Masao, he looked for her judgment and showed her a face of fear.

Masao Ando

There weren't many safe spaces for Enma outside of his dorm. The Arashi residence was full of his father's overbearing nature and while he loved and respected Papa Arashi, that parental strictness ran in the blood. It made him wonder if he'd ever be a father like that someday, if he ever would be as becoming a hero meant accepting many consequences. The danger of revenge was very real, so even having a friend could come to bite him in the rear someday.

To let fear swallow him would mean he was too weak to be a hero anyways. Now that Masao offered her safe space to him, there was a sunshine in his heart. "M-- Ando-san, I know what kind of gesture it is to let someone into your space like this. It doesn't go unappreciated." Nodding firmly, he tested the sword further the moments leading up to his gift. "I can feel it, there will be many a sundered armor and if someone's trapped, I can cleave the stone."

His happiness was not to be understated, he couldn't even begin to understand how she pulled it off. When it came to the final detail regarding its name, he knew he couldn't make a hasty decision. It would be poetic to name it then, but maybe its time had not come. Once the sword was ready to be put on the Journey, he would most certainly have it. "I want it to be perfect, so I shall take care of the blade and when its time to retire Raiju, I will not let it go unnamed."

In truth, Enma wanted it to be a reflection of their bond. A positive note that said it was more than a commission from a well-renowned smith. Masao was quickly becoming someone of great admiration, so he could not so frivolously trot through the process without first learning the blade. As it came time to hear her reaction to the work of art, anxiety almost took his soul to Yomi. "I'm glad you like it. I don't use...that part of my quirk often."

Turning around, there was a blush to his cheeks that he couldn't hide. With the perfect diversion of her new sword, he took the nameless sword and sheathed and held it closely as if he never wanted to let it go. "Amazing ingenuity, Ando-san. Your family should be proud, that is much more versatile and useful in the field." Following her, they would eventually find themselves in the training grounds where he could fly free.

Unsheathing the blade and truly feeling its weight, he would dice up one of the training dummies and felt the blade sing through them. Admittedly, it was better than Raiju at cutting. Maybe it was the weight making better use of his strength, maybe it was a finer edge truly. "Oh, Papa Arashi would really like you." He said whimsically, searching for the function Masao was hinting at.

Eventually, he found a switch on the hilt that would mechanically change the edge of the blade into a blunted one, akin to bokken. Smashing through the training dummy, he looked at her with the most innocent joy on his face. "Masao! This is the perfect katana for someone like me. Thank-you, truly." He realized that alternating between names for her was happening more frequently, which made him wonder if it meant something.

At the very least, it did mean one thing: Masao was amazing.

enma

Most days, Enma spent time darting from one place to another to avoid people. Today, he darted as fast as he could just so he could see someone. It was a wonderful change, something that lit a flame in his heart as he stepped with purpose towards what was normally a terrifying prospect. There he was, watching Masao place some well-maintained tools down and retrieve the cloth-covered prize of their meeting.

"And when I train, you're welcome to join me. There aren't any I offer that to." How bold, how confident!? His fingers were behind his back and shivering as he realized he so boldly invited her to just be around him. Clearing his throat, he would wait patiently as she presented something more stunning than he could ever imagine. The original idea he saw was simpler, but this was absolutely gorgeous.

Gently retrieving it, he inspected the blade and its anatomy. Swinging it around to get a feel for its weight, he would eventually angle it so that it pointed away from them. "The stars in the tsuba...the crimson blade and black wrap and handle. I'd be amiss if I didn't make mention of how it matches my eyes." A soft chuckle, a warm expression. Enma was in his happy place now that Masao put this blade in his hands.

Immediately, he fell in love with it. Setting it carefully back where it was resting, he put his hands on the counter and deeply inhaled. "Masao, I truly appreciate this work of art. I have something for you." With a gusto of confidence, he pulled the art piece from his person and handed it as a scroll for her to unravel and see. The beauty of his quirk was how something like this wasn't temporary.

From his own being, a work of art to show his appreciation. "I'm going to turn around while you look at it. Please don't laugh." Crossing his arms and turning his back to Masao, his face became a mess of anxiety. He'd never given someone a gift before. He also never used his quirk to make another person a work of art. He might not be the best, but he knew that a bond like this was special when his quirk didn't fade after a day when painting with it.

How would she receive it? Was it too much? A thing like this, so special in how it came to be, was not a simple gesture. He liked her.

Masao Ando

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

Maybe Enma's suppressed bloodlust was going to be a bit too evident if he argued the point further. It was an improvised excuse, so there was no need for him to continue it and he just respectfully nodded along. Maybe it was true, but if he wanted to lean into his lie, he could have argued how he could use it like a chainsaw-axe combination. It wouldn't hold water, so he preferred to keep his mouth shut.

As she stopped him, she started mentioning a particular game that had Enma asking himself if it was a board game or a video game. He's heard of people playing very extensive board games and he's heard of video games, but he's never had the joy of either. For video games, his father and grandfather always said how bad they were for the brain, so he stuck to literature. "No I've never--"

She mentioned he was the artsy type. With great intensity in his crimson eyes, he would look directly at her. "Who told you? I'm not an artist, I don't know where this lie was propagated. Don't tell a soul." Uncharacteristically fast-speaking out of anxiety, colorful blotches appeared on his balled hands. Clearing his throat and coughing into his hand, he looked at it and hid them. "Anyways, I have not played this '80k'. I'm more of a reader, but it seems there are some interesting designs inspired by this...video game? I am intrigued."

junsuina