Chapter 2: The seeds sown
September 19, 2024 at 1:19 AM
Every creator finds themselves in a certain element settling into their creative niche. For many, love becomes the theme of praise and at the same time blame. Someone finds themselves in the theme of family, so calm and peaceful, bringing happiness and joy to the reader.
Some burn the reader with tearful drama and tragedy, telling about unfulfilled dreams, crumbling careers and lives, and the subsequent splitting of personality after that.
Myrna found herself in the theme of death, and all her miniatures, which she did not show to anyone, smelled of decay and humus, and they tasted so bitter that one wanted to cry.
"Damn it!" she swore clicking on the keys of her laptop. "Not here, not now!"
When she was done with the note, she quickly closed the document and slammed the lid of the laptop. Her heart finally felt calm.
"What will happen when I see them in person? It was clearly one of them." Biting her nail, Myrna thought as she poured herself pomegranate juice.
Going out onto the shared balcony, she put the mug on the railing, took out a cigarette and lit it. The balcony was on the fourth floor, and it had a good view of all the U.A. buildings. Relaxing, Myrna gave herself completely to the process. The cigarette wrapped in brown paper was blown easily and smoothly, allowing her to enjoy the cherry flavor and aroma. The filter was sweetened, and she loved the feeling of pleasant taste on her lips.
There was a plaintive meowing behind her. Turning around, Myrna saw a fat black cat with big and insolent yellow eyes. He was obviously homeless. Myrna was loyal to cats, and the afternoon meeting with other tailed inhabitants strongly reminded her of her trip to Istanbul. It seemed to her then that this was just the capital of cats. They were everywhere there: hiding in docks, jumping on roofs, lying impressively on shelves in second-hand bookstores and living in workshops, brightening up the routine of workers. Myrna agreed with those who believed that stray cats gave the place carelessness, disorder and endless comfort.
As she went downstairs, she noticed that the cat was following her, clumsily jumping off the steps. When Myrna reached her door, she turned around to see that the cat was standing behind her and looking at her with interest. His eyes were as big as two gold coins.
"What do you want here? Did you come to visit someone?" she asked, taking out a plastic card and applying it to the lock.
The cat did not answer, but continued to stare at her. When the door opened a crack, it suddenly hurried into the dark opening.
"Oh, no, buddy, you can't go in there," Myrna said, putting her foot up and not letting it enter. "Shoo! Shoo!"
Once inside, she was already holding the cat itself with her foot, but the beast was stubbornly trying to get into her house. Closing the door in front of the cat's face, Myrna felt awkward.
She suddenly remembered that Shouta had mentioned another cat that he hadn't seen for two weeks. It must have been it. After finding his number in the school's database and adding it to her contacts, she poured milk into a saucer and left the apartment. The cat had not yet managed to leave, and therefore, throwing back its head, meowed loudly, demanding to put the saucer on the floor as soon as possible. While it was lapping up milk with an appetite, Myrna took a picture of it and sent it to Aizawa's number with the comment "I found the cat you lost."
Shouta replied about twenty minutes later with the words "it's not the same cat, but I haven't seen this one for a month."
"The wrong one?" Myrna exclaimed. "Then where's that bastard hanging around?"
Aizawa Shouta arrived at work, turned on the computer in the staff room and saw an email with an attached document. Opening it, he found his recently uploaded planning with a bunch of edits.
"What the hell?" he was indignant, flipping through the document.
Edits and comments were on every page.
"You too?" A dejected Hizashi Yamada came up. "The new methodologist went through our planning and sent her comments to everyone. There are two days before the start of the school year, and she wants us to correct the entire document in that time?
"A guest is not a pointer to the host," Midnight snorted, "she has been in Japan for a week without a year, and already gets involved in all our processes. And when did she do it all?"
The teachers continued to be indignant, not wanting to easily accept a new employee into the team. Aizawa thought about it. Myrna Novak really seemed suspicious. Why would Principal Nezu hire someone who has no heroic experience as a methodologist at the Department Heroes? Moreover, from the other side of the world? Was there really no one in Japan?
Shouta was sure that it was all for a reason. Myrna didn't come here to work as a methodologist at all. Especially inclined to this option was the fact that the woman was hiding her quirk.
The last question remained: to what extent was the principal aware, and when did Myrna's own benefit begin? Could she have fooled them all in the end?
Shouta was still worried about her strange attack that happened on the first day they met. They were walking, talking about flowers, suddenly she felt sick, fell down and threw up. When the attack ended, she suddenly asked about a group of people leaving the building. Perhaps her condition had something to do with them. Or with one of them.
It suddenly dawned on him. The strange attack was a manifestation of Myrna's quirk. Now, for greater clarity, it was necessary to find out who came to the U.A. High School that day.
Myrna showed up at school by ten, dressed in classic trousers and a tight shirt with her arms rolled up. Her blond hair with a pinkish glow was pinned up with a crab at the back of her head. She immediately stood out in the crowd, unlike Japanese women who adore a cute and modest style, Myrna exuded strict and seductive spiritual vibrations. She could not be accused of indecent excess, but it was impossible not to notice. His gaze fell on her bare neck and wrists, one of which was encircled by an elegant bracelet in the shape of a nail.
"Good morning, Aizawa-san," she smiled. "Is Principal Nezu in his office?"
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I haven't seen him since this morning."
Dropping her bag on her desk, Myrna clattered on her heels to the window and began to look out for the principal's car in the parking lot. The back of her trousers fit her just fine. Aizawa looked away so that it wouldn't look too indecent.
"I don't see his car," Myrna concluded, turning around and taking out her phone, "then I'll text him. By the way, Aizawa-san, how many training grounds are there on the schools campus now? The information in the documents varies everywhere: there is one, here are two."
Shouta narrowed his eyes, slightly surprised by her question.
"There is only one of the active ones so far, the Beta ground. There used to be an Alpha, but it is very outdated and has become unsuitable for training. We don't use it anymore."
"Hmm, I see." Myrna replied, "then it will be necessary to instruct the secretary to update all the documentation. It is impossible for irrelevant information to be kept in the school, this is contrary to international standards. You will need to confirm the ISO certificate next year, I wonder how you were going to do it with such a mess?"
"Is this a part of your duties as a methodologist?" Shouta asked.
She looked up at him with unreadable eyes. Suddenly her phone beeped and vibrated.
"The principal is already arriving, I have to go. Don't forget to send me the updated planning, Aizawa-san. Checking it is the part of my duties."
"What could she possibly need in the principal's office?" Shouta thought.
He didn't want to fix the planning. Gritting his teeth, he left the staff room.
The first day of the new school year greeted the students with a fine cold rain that had been falling since the morning. Myrna walked to school, holding an umbrella in her hand, and thought about how beautiful Japan is in the spring. Sakura blossomed everywhere, spreading its pink petals and fragrant floral scents around. It's been a busy week, but productive. She was able to improve her Japanese better, and also to uncover some bottlenecks in the high school. For the most part, they concerned pieces of paper, but even during the verification of documents, Myrna came across one interesting point: in just a year of his teaching at the school, Aizawa Shouta managed to exclude more than fifty students. It was simply unthinkable and completely out of one's mind.
"Is this depressed person really a real tyrant with children?" Horrified, she thought.
At first, Myrna wanted to ask the teacher personally about this, then she thought it would be better to ask the principal first, but in the end she came to the conclusion that she would like to observe his teaching style first. She suddenly wondered what criteria Aizawa used to decide to expel a student. What does an ordinary child have to do to sign his own death warrant?
"I wonder which class they got into?" And if to Aizawa, how will events develop further?" it flashed through her head.
When the school day was in full swing, Myrna walked down the corridor of the hero faculty, holding in her hands reports on the condition of the training grounds and performance statistics for five years. For a full set, she still lacked a summary of how the fate of the students turned out after graduation from the school. There was nothing like this in the school's database, so Myrna will have to do this research on her own.
Passing by the classroom of Class 1-A, whose homeroom teacher was Aizawa Shouta, she slowed down and went to the door, listening. On the other side of the barrier, teacher Aizawa spent a class hour intimidating students about how hard the work was about being a hero, that this was not a career for fame and money, and also – if they failed the tests, then he could expel at least the entire class at once. It was unpleasant to hear that. Myrna did not support a rigid approach to teaching students.
Suddenly her breath caught in her throat. She felt her heart pounding in her chest.
Everything is clear.
The same person was in this classroom right now. In Aizawa Shouta's class.
Inhaling deeply, holding her breath and exhaling slowly, Myrna walked down the corridor. She didn't know if it was worth paying attention and intervening, or if it would be better for her to turn a blind eye to it, fulfill the terms of her deal, get a well-deserved reward and go home.
"Geez," she swore, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "my latest miniature can turn into a full-fledged novel."
The secretary's office was quiet. Throwing the reports on the table, Myrna went into the waiting room, poured herself warm water from the cooler and drank. She really wanted to smoke.
"What is it? The man asked, looking over the reports. "Why do you need these documents?"
"We need to update the data in these reports," Myrna replied easily. "The grounds are in a worn-out condition, three out of ten points, they need urgent renovation. And it's even better to build new ones."
The secretary looked at her doubtfully.
"Really? The Beta ground was audited only last year, and experts recognized it as still fit for service."
"A whole year ago?" Myrna gasped. "Do you have any idea how long it is, Takahashi-san?"
Thinking, the man suddenly hesitated.
"You're probably right. And what are school performance statistics for, Novak-san?"
"Well, Takahashi-san, there are some minor inconsistencies in it too. You see, school performance simply cannot be high if our grounds are in such a state. I am sure that in fact it began to fall, because it became difficult for poor children to train in pseudo-real conditions.
"Are you saying that the teachers deliberately hid the real grades of the students?" The secretary was horrified.
"No, no," Myrna smiled, shaking her hands to prove her words, "I just think that teachers love their students very much and wish them a brilliant career after graduation. But we need numbers that look like the truth, you know? Poor training grounds, reduced school performance. Can you help me with this?"
The secretary nodded uncertainly. Myrna immediately brightened up.
"Thank you, Takahashi-san, you are such a responsible employee. I couldn't have done it without you."
Smoking was her salvation. Today, for the first time, Myrna felt like a stranger in a new place. The teachers gathered in the teacher's room amicably left for lunch, not paying attention to her and not even inviting her out of politeness. They must have been taking revenge on her for reworking the curriculum. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, Myrna could always pretend that even if she was called, she would still go to smoke first.
Standing in the smoking place outside, which was located at the service entrance, Myrna looked at the truck, from which hermetically sealed boxes with medical supplies and medicines were being taken out. Chiyo Shuzenji, known only as Recovery Girl, came out of the school. She was given a tablet with a packing list attached, and together with the deliveryman they began to check the contents of the boxes. Myrna watched them with interest. Recovery Girl was an example for all the heroes, having lived in active status to an advanced age and still continuing to apply her quirk for the benefit of people. If Myrna had been the chairman of the International Association of Heroes, she would have awarded this woman a medal of the highest degree. She suddenly felt ashamed that, due to the backlog of cases, she did not have time to get to know this legendary woman at all.
"Smoking is harmful," the old day said, finishing her business and coming up to her. "You will give birth to unhealthy children."
Rolling her eyes, Myrna grinned. The elderly in all countries were the same, they saw in a woman only an opportunity to produce other people, forgetting about the personality and significance of this woman herself.
"Welcome back from vacation, Shuzenji-san," Myrna replied with a polite bow. "We haven't met yet, I'm Myrna Novak, the new methodologist at the Department of Heroes."
"I've heard a lot about you," Recovery Girl laughed, leaning on a syringe cane, "you've made a stir here, Novak-san. But still, smoking is a bad habit, you should quit. There are plenty of other ways to deal with stress. For example,...
Old lady's lips spread out and then stretched into a tube. Myrna thought she had misheard. The spoken word thundered in her mind.
"Not bad, Grandma", she thought.
After stubbing out her cigarette and throwing it into the trash can, Myrna went back up to the teacher's room. The weather had cleared outside, and she could even go for lunch somewhere outside the school. She had already picked up her bag and was about to leave when the door opened and Shouta Aizawa entered the office.
"Aren't you at lunch, Novak-san?" he asked in surprise.
"I've been working, I'm just about to," she replied. "Haven't you had lunch yet, too?"
"No, I studied the personal files of the students to get to know them better."
"And choose the first victim to be eliminated?" Myrna asked, folding her arms across her chest.
Mentally slapping her forehead, she also bit her tongue. Myrna promised herself to watch him and only then start a conversation, but she couldn't resist. The words jumped out of her mouth. Noticeably tense, Shouta did not answer.
"Do you want to have lunch together?" She suggested to smooth out the rough edges in their awkward conversation.
There were already few people in the school cafeteria, so the two of them sat at the table. Lunch Rush was an excellent cook, white rice in his performance seemed to be a divine food that had no equal in the whole world. Japanese cuisine did not turn out to be completely alien to Myrna, seafood dishes were also very popular in Croatia. Although, despite the fact that everything was cooked amazingly and from high-quality products, the food for Myrna seemed bland and dietary. She wouldn't mind a hearty chorba with lemon juice and fried sea bass with black rice right now.
"How do you like Japan?" Shouta asked, deftly wielding his chopsticks. "Is it very different from your homeland? By the way, you still haven't told me where you're from."
Pursing her lips, Myrna thought about it. There has always been an unspoken rule among Eastern European countries never to tell that they were from Eastern Europe, and this was especially true of the Balkans. This region had a traditionally bad reputation, which developed two centuries ago. Its region consisted of about a dozen countries inhabited by various peoples with their own languages and religions, who constantly waged barbaric strife among themselves. The Balkan countries had long been branded unstable and backward. Countries that had learned over their long history that everything was for sale. Having given up with the thought that probably on the other side of the world they didn't know all these stereotypes, Myrna smiled slightly and replied:
"I'm from Croatia. Indeed, Japan is very different from my home country. I'm still getting used to it. Aizawa-san, have you ever been to Europe?"
"No, I haven't been there yet. Is Croatia worth visiting?"
"Sure but it's better to go somewhere in Germany or Austria for the first time," Myrna laughed. "My country is not for beginners. "
Present Mick suddenly entered the dining room, as if looking for someone. Noticing them, he stopped dead in his tracks, his face fell for a moment, he turned around and hurried out. Myrna smiled as she watched him. This loud teacher seemed very funny to her.
However, after a moment, her smile faded. A lost boy, obviously a first-year student, appeared from the aisle. He had a shaved head with a short crew cut of black hair, and the look in his beautiful monolithic eyes was sad and extinguished. He was dressed in a traditional U.A. uniform, which looked bad on him because he was hunched over.
When the boy saw them, he approached hesitantly and stuttered, asking.
"T-Teacher Aizawa, f-forgive me for interrupting lunch. I'm lost and I can't find the men's changing room."
"I'll walk you out," Shouta got up from his seat and turned to Myrna to say goodbye.
She sat frozen in place, staring at the boy in horror. All the blood had drained from her face, and now it looked deathly pale. Suddenly, her green eyes changed, lit up, and turned a bright emerald color. Aizawa felt the waves emanating from her, which made his stomach turn sour, and he was overcome by an unpleasant feeling of anxiety and disgust. His whole body resisted this strange, alien feeling.
"Why do you want to do this?" Myrna whispered, also getting up.
Something had changed in her, it seemed that now she did not belong to herself and was obsessed with something. Quickly realizing, Shouta activated his quirk. The disturbing feeling immediately stopped, Myrna's eyes went out and returned to their former natural shade. She collapsed back down, averting her gaze, seemingly feeling caught off guard. Covering her eyes with her hand, she said softly:
"I'm sorry for the outburst. Please leave. I'll stay here."
After deactivating the quirk, Aizawa noticed Myrna flinch again. The boy, whose name was Igarashi Sora, almost cried from what he saw. Novak's question surprised him greatly, and it made his body tremble.
"What's going on?" Shouta asked himself mentally. "Do they know each other?"
"Come on, Igarashi," he said. "I'll take you."
They headed for the door. Just before leaving, Shouta took one last look towards the table where Myrna was sitting. Leaning her elbow on the countertop and putting her hand to her forehead so as to hide her face completely, she remained sitting motionless.
