Aero (a BNHA OC story)

Chapter 1

...

The night sky held a tapestry of twinkling stars, casting an otherworldly glow upon the industrial terrain. The streets were empty, occasionally illuminated by the flicker of streetlamps, creating an eerily tranquil ambiance.

Breaking the silence, a tall, disheveled blonde figure emerged from the warehouse doors with a muttered oath. Kenzo Ikari, an 18-year-old former UA student, stood clad in dust-covered sweatpants and a high-visibility jacket, his glare sharp, a testament to the challenging day he had endured at the delivery company.

Misplacing a parcel had earned him a severe reprimand from his boss, leaving him teetering on the edge of dismissal. All for a meager minimum wage of ¥1,113.00 per hour.

As he exited the unattractive building, he retrieved his cracked iPhone and hastily sent a message to his best friend Shin.

Kenzo:

Hey

Let's hit the club tomorrow

Can't today

Manager called

Sent 20:46

If you had asked any of Kenzo's teachers at UA Academy about his future, they would have painted a rosy picture.

"That boy has a bright future ahead of him. I have no doubt he'll be Japan's number one hero in the next few years!"

However, reality took a different turn.

After a devastating loss following graduation, Kenzo returned his cape and mask to UA, declaring that the hero life wasn't for him. The UA staff were left in disbelief, struggling to reconcile this with the passionate young hero they once knew.

Post-hero life and severing ties with anything associated with it, Kenzo encountered challenges. He wasn't particularly adept in academics and was averse to engaging in anything overtly illegal to make ends meet. After all, he had been UA's golden boy, and good habits die hard.

He needed a swift, not-too-shady way to earn some cash.

And what better choice for an ex-hero than joining an underground fight club.

On an ordinary day, as Kenzo trudged home from the grocery store, his thoughts were consumed by the looming spectre of his mortgage payments. The weight of financial responsibilities bore down on him like a relentless storm cloud. He wondered how he would ever manage to keep his head above water.

Amidst his fretful contemplation, a chance encounter altered the course of his life. Approaching him was a man with short, grey hair and a conspicuous gap where a tooth should have been. To Kenzo's astonishment, the stranger claimed to recognize him from his triumphant victories in sports festivals. He introduced himself as Mr. G and extended an intriguing proposition.

Mr. G, with a sly grin, inquired if Kenzo would be interested in joining an underground world – a fight club, known for its lucrative compensation. The prospect both fascinated and unsettled Kenzo, but in the face of his financial woes, he found himself cautiously nodding in agreement.

With reluctance, Kenzo ventured into this underground realm, "Tokyo Thunder Pit." The gritty training and fierce competition gradually moulded him into a champion. Drawing upon the skills and discipline he had honed during his time at UA, Kenzo evolved into a formidable contender within the arena's unforgiving battles.

His journey was not solely about financial gain. Kenzo, always a believer in self-improvement, saw this as an opportunity to maintain his hard-earned physique and remain connected to his competitive spirit. In a way, it was his own form of resilience against the difficulties life had thrown his way.

His phone chimed, and he instinctively reached for it, assuming it was a message from his manager.

Shin:

kenz...

you're gonna get seriously hurt one day

delivered 20:48

Kenzo couldn't help but roll his eyes before crafting a response.

Kenzo:

I know what I'm doing

Don't get your knickers in a twist ;)

sent 20:48

The truth was, the fight club was his secret means of making ends meet. He didn't want to burden his best friend with the knowledge, so he kept it to himself. His job as a delivery driver barely covered his basic expenses.

Just as he pondered this, a sharp notification sound snapped him out of his thoughts, and he glanced at his phone.

Mr G:

ready champion?

todays battle will be a tough one

don't be late

delivered 20:50

As the bitter cold began to infiltrate his bones, Kenzo deftly pulled his ski mask over his head, shielding his face from the unforgiving chill. It was a necessary precaution for the covert life he led.

Stepping onto the dimly lit sidewalk, he made his way towards the spot where his beloved Kawasaki Ninja was parked. He had invested a significant portion of last year's paychecks into acquiring this sleek machine, and to him, it was more than just a motorcycle; it was his cherished companion, a symbol of his hard-earned achievements. Kenzo cared for his bike with a level of devotion that surpassed even his own self-care.

With precision, he secured his helmet over his head and inserted the keys into the ignition, the visor sliding down to shield his eyes from the elements. A swift, powerful kick to the ground and the Kawasaki roared to life.

Though the lure of his comfortable mattress at home tugged at his thoughts, Kenzo knew that he had a fight to attend.

...

Kenzo sat in the locker room, his gaze fixed on a distant point, tuning out his manager's voice as it droned on about techniques and his opponent's weaknesses. The words seemed to wash over him, a familiar routine he'd grown accustomed to. Instead, his mind wandered back to the days when he patrolled the streets as a hero, the weight of a different kind of responsibility on his shoulders.

As his manager's voice faded into the background, Kenzo's thoughts shifted to the times when he had stood tall, wearing the emblem of his alma mater, UA Academy, with pride. Back then, he had been Japan's hopeful beacon of hope, the potential number one hero. The stark contrast between those days and his current underground pursuits couldn't have been more pronounced.

A sense of detachment settled over him, like he was an observer in his own life, playing a role that didn't quite fit anymore. The hum of anticipation filled the air, seeping through the locker room walls, a reminder that the fight awaited him.

In the midst of this internal reflection, a familiar chime from his phone pulled Kenzo back to the present moment. He retrieved the device and glanced at the message.

Shin:

kick their ass

sent 21:15

A small smile tugged at the corner of Kenzo's lips. Shin, his steadfast friend, always had his own way of offering encouragement, even from a distance. It was a reminder that even in this clandestine world, there were those who believed in him.

With a final nod to his manager's fading words, Kenzo rose from his seat, ready to step through the door, into the ring. The shadows of his past heroics may have dimmed, but within him still burned a fire, a determination to face whatever challenges came his way.