TheFanficGOD
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MHA156- Cult
🕑 Added 2025-06-28 20:26:39 +0000 UTCAs soon as we set off, Hatsume was already climbing one of the flagpoles yelling something about “antenna range upgrades” and “radial wave disruption potential.” I didn’t stop her. If the boat sank, at least Hatsume would be the reason, and I could haunt her with wet footsteps forever and it would be funny.
We cruised past small islands, wind pushing us into that perfect zone where the air turned salty and everyone’s clothes started losing layers. Tsuyu had her swimsuit peeking out under a crop top, talking to Toru about matching sunglasses. Uraraka and Jiro claimed a table under the canopy and started arguing over playlist rights. Yaoyorozu tried to pass out chore lists again. Kaminari took one, looked at it, and used it as a coaster.
The closer we got to Sorashima, the more relaxed everyone got.
Nejire found me leaning on the railing, sipping a canned juice Eri gave me earlier.
“You are frowning too hard. Gonna scare the fish.”
“Fish deserve it.”
She rested her arms next to mine. “I bet the beach is clean.”
“You planning to eat it?”
“Only the top layer.”
“Very healthy of you.”
She grinned. “You pack swimwear or are you just planning to tan in jeans like a serial killer?”
“I pack options. And none of them involve sunburns or losing dignity.”
“That is vague enough to be suspicious.”
She nudged me with her elbow. I didn’t answer. Instead, I watched as Sorashima started to take shape ahead of us—green, rocky edges, a narrow bay, cliffs in the distance like jagged teeth.
“Looks small,” I said.
“Perfect for mischief,” she replied, which made me pause.
“You quoting Nezu now?”
“Maybe.”
We docked soon enough, with Midnight taking the lead. She strutted down the ramp, with rest of us following in waves, some dragging bags, some dragging each other.
Sorashima wasn’t big. Just enough houses, just enough trees, and just enough cliff to make you question how many people fell trying to take selfies.
“Village elder’s waiting,” Midnight said. “Try not to flash quirks or underwear. That includes you, Mineta.”
Mineta blinked like he had been personally betrayed by gravity.
We followed her up the pier and into the edge of town. Small place. Stone walls, solar panels, half-sleeping seaguls.
A few locals peeked through windows. One old guy waved. Two kids ran up, flanked by their father. They looked surprised, maybe confused. The girl pointed at Eri.
“She is small!”
“You are small,” Eri replied, matter-of-fact.
The boy stared at me like I just walked out of a TV screen. Mouth hanging, finger twitching, like he was debating whether to scream or kneel.
“Oh mi god, oh mi god, oh mi god... You are Wildcard!”
I raised a brow. “Kiddo, you a fan?”
Momo appeared next to me with a grin, "Sounds like you in museum."
He pointed both hands at me like he was casting a spell. “You fought Stain in the face! You powerbombed that bird guy! You kicked a guy through a wall and said, ‘That is a you problem now!’ You are my favorite hero ever!”
I held out a fist. “Strong picks. But you missed the part where I also beat that monster with a single punch.”
The boy just stared, eyes wide like I had dropped the Holy Grail.
His dad looked exhausted. The kind of tired only parents of hyper kids and public drama survivors ever wore. “He has all your merch. Posters. Stickers. A toy bat. He is convinced if he sleeps next to it, he will wake up with your powers.”
The boy nodded furiously. “Galaxy Impact! Divine Departure!”
I blinked. “You memorized my skills?”
“I laminated it.”
“Damn.”
Holy shit, I have a cult member. I need to start charging for miracles.
The girl crossed her arms. “Don’t inflate his ego. He already thinks punching a vending machine is heroic.”
He glared at her. “It was stuck!”
“I was getting your snack! You made it worse!”
“You called me short!”
“You are short!”
“Not as short as him!”
We all looked at Mineta. He waved.
“Stop involving me in things I didn’t say!”
“Let’s get to the village,” the dad cut in, trying to herd the chaos away. “We’ve got rooms cleared. It is not fancy, but it is warm.”
I hoisted Eri up onto my shoulder, her legs swinging against my chest while I adjusted the weight of our bags. Hers, mine, Mom’s... guess who carried all three. Nejire stuck to my side like static cling, arms brushing mine every couple of steps, pretending she wasn’t looking at me when she absolutely was.
The path into the village was uneven, stone slats crunched under our feet, the houses ahead stacked like someone gave a toddler a bunch of oversized bricks and told them to wing it. We passed a few sheds, a weathered sign that just said “General” with half the paint gone, and an old woman squatting by a barrel, peeling something that looked like mutant yams.
The girl, Mohara, crossed her arms and muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "poser." Katsuma, the boy, either didn’t hear or was too busy vibrating with energy. He kept circling me like I might suddenly pull out a new move from my pocket. The father, a broad-shouldered man with sun-creased skin. His name was Hikaru.
Midnight exchanged a few words with him. He didn’t talk much... just answered in short phrases and a few gestures, but from the way she stopped trying to lead the conversation and started following him instead, he knew the island. He had that island-dad energy. The kind of man who probably fixed half the village’s roof tiles with duct tape and resolve.
Apparently, he was known around both Sorashima and Nabu, used to ferry supplies between them before boats became drones and neighbors stopped waving. Since we were here for patrols, drills, and not accidentally setting buildings on fire, he’d volunteered to be our point man. Or maybe Katsuma volunteered him by sheer willpower.
Our lodgings sat near a split in the path, where a crooked post sign read “Boarding” with half the letters either scraped off or replaced with someone’s guess.
Yaoyorozu stood near a folding table that hadn’t been folded in years. She had a chart taped to a cutting board, because clipboards were apparently too mainstream. Paper flapped in the breeze as she squinted down at names.
She caught me looking. “I’ve organized who’s staying where. Grouped by compatibility, role pairings, and distance from the main hall.”
“Where’s Mineta staying?” I asked.
She didn’t even look up. Just pointed to a tiny box scribbled near the edge of the map, practically outside the property.
“Corner house. Far side of the compound.”
I grinned. “That is my girl.”
“I am not,” she muttered without missing a beat, flipping a page.
Someone behind us snorted. Kaminari maybe. I didn’t check. I was too busy watching Mineta’s face as he realized his designated housing might actually require a passport. I am 70% sure there were wolves.
“There is no Wi-Fi in that shack,” he said, horrified.
“Good,” Tsuyu replied. “Means you can’t livestream your death.”
Kendo was standing next to Momo, both of them going over the same paper like it was a war plan. Made sense. If one of them didn’t co-sign the layout, Monoma would find a way to cry about favoritism until someone stuffed a sock in his mouth. Probably his own.
I was with Mom, Eri, and Izuku. We walked past the main shed and into one of the bigger houses near the center. Nothing fancy... two stories, wide entrance, one of those barely-holding-together porches where you could imagine someone’s grandpa yelling about fish prices while holding a newspaper from 1998.
I dropped the bags just inside the door. “Well, cleaned already. These people are too hospitable.”
Hikaru smiled. "It is what we should do."
I looked around the room once more. Too clean. No dust, no clutter, like someone had panic-cleaned before company arrived and now pretended it was always that way.
"You really shouldn’t," I said. “People get used to being spoiled. You treat them too nice, next thing you know, they’re expecting you to cook their food, fold their laundry, wipe their asses. Bar gets raised fast. And good luck bringing it back down without being called rude.”
He chuckled. Not nervous or polite, just the kind of sound someone made when they had seen that exact thing happen before.
“I get it,” he said.
“I’m not judging,” I added, nudging the bags further inside. “Just saying, hospitality turns into a trap real quick.”
Midnight tapped the doorframe on her way in. “If this is your way of thanking the man, you’re doing it backwards.”
“I don’t thank people who out-clean me. Makes me look bad.”
“Good. Then we are off to a great start,” Hikaru said, already turning away like he had a dozen other things to fix.
The floor creaked as Eri hopped off my shoulder and immediately started exploring like the house was a new level she had to unlock. Mom followed her with a quiet sigh and a slow shake of her head.
“You got this?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. Just gave me a look that meant Don’t start anything. I nodded, held up both hands, and stepped out before she added a slap to the message.
Back outside, the sun was already slanting a little, heat starting to back off but not enough to cool anything down. I could hear Kaminari yelling about volleyball somewhere behind one of the houses. The net had barely gone up and bets were already being made. Loud bets.
“Ryuu,” Momo called from the board like she had not stopped running logistics even for a second. “We’re having a patrol briefing in ten. After that, free time until dinner.”
“Let me guess. You already have meal groups sorted.”
“Of course.”
“How many lists do you have?”
“Enough.”
That translated to too many.
Tetsutetsu jogged by with both bags still in hand, dropping them somewhere in front of a shed and calling it a win. He didn’t even bother checking if it was the right room. Behind him, Kendo was trying to read the same chart Momo had, flipping pages like she was hoping they’d turn into a pop-up book.
Monoma hovered close but hadn’t said anything yet. That was suspicious.
“Not going to complain?” Kendo asked him.
“Why would I?” he said, hands clasped like he was meditating. “This is a chance to show everyone how superior 1-B is.”
There it was.
“Cool. Just do it without talking.”
He opened his mouth again. I pointed at him. “No. Stop. Do it in interpretive dance if you must.”
“I could-”
“Don’t.”
Mineta came stumbling around the side, already sweating. “Hey, Ryuu, do you know if there is a laundry service on this island?”
“You plan to wash something?”
“I plan to soak in something.”
“Yeah, no. You are not soaking in shit unless it is a containment tank.”
He muttered something and scuttled away like the answer had somehow surprised him.
Tsuyu walked by carrying a stack of towels half her height. “Are we hitting the beach?”
“Of course we are.”
Nejire caught up with me as I circled back to the main path. She had ditched the overshirt and was down to a dark blue two-piece and those open sandals that made flip-flops jealous. Her hair was tied in a side bun that looked too casual to be accidental.
“You gonna unpack?”
“Eventually.”
“You planning to sulk first?”
“Not sulking.”
“You are absolutely sulking.”
“I am watching the tactical layout of a foreign village and assessing potential villain entry points.”
“You are emotionally constipated, tactical edition.”
Comments
TheFanficGOD
Yeah, thanks! If not clear, it was a throwback to moment when Ryuu saw Fukang Meteorite in the museum, he showed similar reaction. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, it is Fukang Meteorite"
Tungst3n
Momo appeared next to me with a grin, "Sounds like you in museum." Does she mean "in 'the' museum"?
TheFanficGOD
I like her energy in general. She goes well with Ryuu
hector lyng
I feel like you're including Nejire too much. I don't think she should have gone to the island. Since she's a third-year, she should have had other activities. I think you'd include Eri since she can change the atmosphere and have fun like a kid. But despite that, it's a good episode.
