?"It's quiet."
?Hawks rested one hand on the wheel. "The air feels different once we leave the city."
?He glanced at the rearview mirror, but Mirko’s eyes stayed fixed on the window.
?"You could’ve taken the back seat, you know."
?Mirko crossed her arms, a short, dry laugh slipping out. "When the President’s behind the wheel? That’d feel too fancy for me."
?"Fancy? I’d call it courtesy."
?"Guess I’m not used to being taken care of." She glanced at him sideways. "You didn’t have to do this yourself."
?Hawks exhaled, one corner of his mouth lifting.
?"Cleared my schedule for the morning. Figured you’d prefer someone familiar behind the wheel."
?Mirko raised an eyebrow. "Just to drive me?"
?"For the No. 5 hero? I think I can manage that much."
?Mirko let out a sharp little laugh through her nose. "I’m No. 6 now."
?"You’ll always be No. 5 to me."
?His tone was playful, yet something old and wistful threaded through it. For a while, only the hum of the road filled the car. Hawks tapped the steering wheel lightly.
?"If I still had wings, we’d be there already."
?Mirko glanced at him. "We’ve both lost a lot."
?He paused. "Me? …It’s nothing."
?Her gaze lingered on him. The passing road lights flashed over his face, hiding the faint tremor in his fingers.
?"…Lately, I’ve been thinking about him a lot."
?Mirko kept her eyes on the dark landscape outside. "How’s Endeavor these days?"
?Hawks lowered his head for a moment before answering with a soft smile. "He’s doing better. Stood up from his wheelchair not long ago. Walks with a cane now—helps victims, oversees rebuilding. Never really stops."
?Mirko’s gaze darkened. "Still punishing himself…"
?"Not punishment," Hawks said quietly. "Responsibility." His eyes drifted toward the distance. "He’s choosing to carry the weight of his own fire—to watch its shadow until the end."
?Mirko said nothing. In the glass, her reflection flickered—one small light caught in the dark.
?"He lost so much," she murmured. "Honor, family, even an arm… Refused treatment, refused surgery. Just endured. Burned through it all—like fire, to the very end."
?Hawks nodded, tightening his grip on the wheel. "That’s who he is. Even when he breaks, even when the flame dies out… a spark always remains."
?Mirko leaned back, eyes distant. "I worked with him a few times. For someone who liked charging in alone, he was one of the few heroes I ever called for backup."
?A faint smile crossed her lips, then vanished. "He’d always show up when I called, even without notice. Grumbled the whole time—‘Damn rabbit, calling me out like that’—and still came running anyway."
?Silence followed.
?"As a hero… he was truly remarkable."
?Hawks nodded slowly. "To me too. He was the best."
?His gaze unfocused. A quiet breath escaped—and a flash of memory followed.
A small room, years ago. A man on the TV, flames roaring across the screen. On a dusty shelf, an Endeavor figure swaying in the breeze. Each time the light touched its face, the world seemed a little less dark.
?The All Might toy had been lost long ago, but that one—Endeavor—always remained. A child’s hand reached for it.
the image flashing by like a spark cutting through the dark.
?Mirko glanced his way, her voice low. "His inferiority toward All Might, his obsession with being Number One… that’s what burned him out in the end."
?Hawks exhaled through his nose. A road sign slid past the window. "He lived like fire—and burned out the same way."
?"Still…" Mirko turned back to the glass. "Because of that fire, a lot of lives kept burning on." A pause. Then she added, almost to herself, "…Me included."
?The car went quiet. Even the engine sounded far away.
?"Sometimes I wonder," Mirko said, her voice trembling low. "If I’ll end up the same way he did—if the fire in my heart will burn me out too."
?Hawks’ hands tightened around the wheel.
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?"Endeavor didn’t have anyone to hold his fire back," he said quietly, but firmly. "You’re different. You’re not alone. —You have me."
?Mirko turned slightly, but he kept his eyes ahead.
?"I won’t let your fire consume you," he said after a pause. "And even if it does… I’ll pull you out myself."
?Morning light streamed across the glass, touching both their faces—faint, but steady, like a flame refusing to die. For a while, Mirko said nothing. The sunlight caught on the white tips of her ears. Then, slowly, she smiled.
?"...I can trust that, right?"
?Hawks’ eyes curved with a small grin. "I’m a bird who can’t lie." He drew in a slow breath. "No wings now, but I still fly—so that shadow of yours never catches you again."
?"A shadow, huh…" Mirko chuckled. "Ha, still sounds dumb every time you say it."
?Her laughter spread, and Hawks joined in. For the first time in a long while, the air inside the car felt light. The morning sun slipped between them, lingering there—not as fire, but as light.
?Beyond the mist, a bell tower came into view. Beneath the mountain ridge, an old village slowly woke.
?Hawks eased down on the brake. "We’re here."
?The moment they stepped out, the city’s scent vanished—replaced by the quiet breath of soil and grass filling their lungs. Soft sunlight brushed over the stone walls. At the end of the narrow winding path, the church cross shimmered faintly.
?And at the base of the slope—stood a woman in a white robe and black boots, her hands gently folded.
?Shiozaki Ibara — Hero Name: Vine.
?Green tendrils, flowing like her hair, wrapped around her shoulders, swaying with the morning breeze. Where sunlight touched them, the smaller strands quivered as if drawing breath. Vines trailed down her forehead, weaving naturally into a small crown.
?Light rested on it softly—a laurel of grace upon the sanctuary of morning.
?Her skin was pale, but her eyes held warmth. Within that calm gaze lingered an old, unshaken faith. When she brought her fingertips together, the surrounding vines stirred in response to the wind—alive, and breathing.
?"I’ve been expecting you, Mirko."
?Mirko let out a quiet breath. "You’ve been standing out here since dawn, huh."
?"Yes. The weather’s quite pleasant today." Shiozaki’s smile was gentle—like sunlight itself.
?Mirko nodded, glancing up the path that led toward the church. It was narrow, but on either side, wildflowers bowed softly in the wind. The slope began to ease. Between the ridges, birdsong echoed, and wind brushed softly through the leaves.
?Hawks spoke in an easy tone. "First time seeing it up close?"
?Mirko nodded. "Yeah. Only ever saw it on TV or in articles."
?Hawks glanced toward Shiozaki.
?"She helps with the parish, teaches the kids, tends the fields... basically, whenever folks around here are struggling, she’s there. They call her the village’s healer of hearts."
?Shiozaki bowed her head modestly. "I only do what I can."
?A faint smile crossed Mirko’s lips. "You make me think of the sports festival. You floored Kaminari in one hit back then."
?Shiozaki laughed softly. "That was thanks to my teammates."
?"Kendo told me," Hawks said with a grin. "Didn't Kaminari say if he won, you’d have to go on a date with him?"
?Shiozaki chuckled. "Maybe that’s why I fought so hard."
?Their laughter carried on the morning breeze—light, fleeting, and warm.
?Mirko spoke again. "Even back then, a lot of heroes had their eyes on you. Same when you interned under The Lurkers. Kamui especially—he praised you all the time."
?She tilted her head with a faint smile. "Strong quirk, kind heart—" she paused, then added with a teasing grin, "and a pretty face on top of that. So why aren’t you putting yourself out there more? I’d bet you could crack the Top 20 on the Hero Billboard Chart easily."
?Shiozaki lowered her eyes for a moment before smiling softly. "I’m still active."
?The wind brushed against her vines, carrying the scent of morning grass. The leaves caught the sunlight and shimmered faintly, silver and green.
?"Just… in a different way."
?She touched one of the vines that trailed over her head. "My Quirk, Vine, is something I see as a blessing." She took a quiet breath before continuing. "But it’s not without flaws. Against speedsters like Iida, I was always a step behind. And with my rigid nature, I never handled trickier opponents very well."
?A faintly self-mocking smile touched her lips. "During the joint training, I got caught in Shinso’s brainwashing. Ended up binding my own teammates with my vines. When it finally wore off, I muttered ‘forgive this foolish sheep’—and passed out right after."
?Hawks chuckled. "That’s so you. Only you would take a training exercise that seriously."
?Shiozaki lowered her head, then smiled softly. "But at disaster sites—when I’m rescuing people from collapsed buildings, when I’m shielding those scattered and afraid—"
?She lifted a hand, showing the vines wrapped around her arm. The green tendrils swayed in the wind, catching the light as they shimmered.
?"Nothing else feels quite as right."
?Her hands came together, and along her fingertips, the vines unfurled slowly, blooming like new leaves.
?"That’s why I chose to follow my own path," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "When the world is at peace, I try to spread kindness. And when danger comes, I stay by the citizens’ side and guide them to safety."
?She closed her eyes for a moment. The wind whispered softly through the vines.
?"Whether it’s a shining struggle or a silent prayer… it all begins from the same place—the heart that reaches out to someone else."
?Her gaze turned to Mirko. "The world needs those who fight on the front lines, like you, and those who stand as support, like me. That’s… the way I fight now."
?Mirko watched her in silence for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Still a hero through and through. Just walking a different road."
?For a while, no one spoke. The wind crossed the mountains, the vines shimmered softly in the sunlight, and within that light, the shadows of all three stretched long, side by side.
?At the crest of the hill, sunlight spilled across the church roof. A heavy silence rested before the door—even the wind and birds seemed to pause for that one still moment.
?Shiozaki brought her fingertips together, tracing a quiet cross in the air. The vines followed her gesture, gently pushing the doors open. The old hinges gave a low groan, and a faint scent of aged wood and incense drifted out.
?Inside, the church was wider than expected. From the altar came the soft murmur of a priest’s prayer, and down the corridor, the hem of a white habit brushed lightly past. Sunlight through the stained glass scattered red and blue across the floor.
?Shiozaki walked ahead in silence. "This way, please."
?Mirko and Hawks followed, taking in the surroundings. Paintings of saints hung beside children’s drawings, and to one side stood a small soup kitchen run by the church. The wooden floor was old, yet each step drew out a quiet shine, as if it had been polished by years of care.
?At the end of the corridor, Shiozaki stopped before a small door. A plaque above it read Counseling Room. From the crack beneath, a faint scent of herbs drifted out.
?Hawks stopped at the doorway. "I’ll take a look around the village for a bit." He glanced between them with a teasing smile. "Take good care of her, Vine."
?A quick wink.
?Shiozaki drew a quiet breath, bowing her head with a gentle smile. "You haven’t changed, President Hawks."
?"I’ll take that as a compliment."
?Hawks waved lightly, his figure fading down the corridor.
?Shiozaki opened the door. Warmth met them inside. A small desk, two chairs, a small Bible, and a tea set neatly arranged on the shelf, and a potted plant resting by the window.
?"It’s quiet," Mirko murmured.
?"This is a place for both prayer and conversation," Shiozaki said softly. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
?Gathering her vines, she moved them toward the window. Sunlight filtered through them, and the air within the room stirred faintly in its glow.
?Mirko sat down. Her hands rested on her knees, her gaze lowered. Her rabbit ears trembled slightly.
?Shiozaki took the seat across from her.
?"Shall we begin—slowly?"
?The words sank into the stillness of the church. Outside, a distant bell rang softly.
?And with its gentle chime—the counseling began.