Chapter 15: The New Number 1 Pro Hero!?

The battlefield lay in ruins. Smoke and ash clung to the air like a suffocating curtain, carrying the bitter scent of scorched earth and shattered lives. Shadow’s monstrous form had vanished, his void energy dissipated, leaving only the echoes of his screams and the scars of his devastation. Rin slumped against the remnants of a scorched boulder, each ragged breath a reminder of the battle she had barely survived. Her hybrid aura, once a storm of lightning and fire, began to unravel, the fused cores slowly separating back into their original forms. Before her, a floating, spectral head of a fox appeared, its eyes glowing softly in approval. “You did well, Rin…” Karyu’s voice rumbled, calm now, almost tender. “Let me finish this for you.” Rin’s body shimmered faintly, her cores fully unmerging as the residual energy drained from her. Her form gradually returned to its base state, the storm of power around her fading into a fragile calm. “I… did it… but at what cost?” Rin whispered, her voice trembling. “Losing Yumi… almost dying again… I should’ve done better…” Her fists clenched, tears mingling with dirt and sweat as guilt and grief weighed heavily on her. Even in victory, the battlefield felt emptier now, the silence a painful reminder of those who had fallen. “You did what you had to do… Now that you’ve fully awakened my Core, it shouldn’t be—” Rin cut him off, her voice hoarse but sharp. “No… don’t lie to me. I can feel it. My cores… they’re fading. I pushed them too far.” Her hand pressed against her chest, her pulse weak and unstable. “In all of history… nobody has forced their Core past its true limit. Nobody knows what happens after. And I… I can feel it slipping away.” For the first time, Karyu didn’t grin. His spectral form hovered silently, his fox eyes narrowing as if remembering something long buried. His tails stilled, the abyss around him quieting. “You’re right,” he admitted, his tone heavy with a weight older than any mortal’s. “When the first Cores were created, they were designed as anchors—bridges between soul and body, between power and life itself. To push one beyond its limit… it’s to strain the very fabric of existence inside you.” His gaze burned into hers, fierce and unrelenting. “Cores are not infinite, Rin. They burn brighter the harder you push them—but if you go too far, they can collapse. When that happens… not even gods know if you survive the collapse or vanish into nothing.” Rin’s breath hitched, her knuckles trembling as she clutched her chest tighter. “…So… I really might…” Karyu’s tails lashed, shaking the air with a force that silenced her doubt. “But listen to me, Rin Shimizu. You’ve done what no soul in this world or the last has managed—you merged two Cores and wielded them as one. Not even the ancients who forged the first flames dared attempt that.” His voice hardened, carrying both pride and fury. “Yes, your body is breaking. Yes, your Cores may be fading. But don’t you dare mistake that for weakness. You didn’t just awaken my Core… you redefined what a Core is.” Rin lowered her head, her tears falling into the cracked earth beneath her. For the first time, she wasn’t sure if she was still herself—or something else entirely. The faint green glow dimmed, Karyu’s spectral fox head lingering a moment longer, his crimson eyes narrowing with something almost human — sorrow. “Rin… you’ve walked a path no one else ever has. But… this is as far as I can stay.” His tails flickered behind him like dying embers. “The others are coming. If they see me, it’ll only raise questions neither of us are ready to answer. Rest, Rin. You’ve earned it.” Rin reached a trembling hand toward him. “Wait—Karyu…” But the massive fox spirit had already begun to dissolve into motes of fire and smoke, his grin fading last, echoing in the wind. “Don’t let my power break you… let it make you unbreakable.” Silence pressed in for a heartbeat, broken only by the crackle of scorched earth. Then—voices. “RIN!” “Over here, I see her!” Boots thundered against the cracked ground as figures rushed over the hill. Class 1-C, battered but alive, sprinted into the ruined battlefield. Their faces shifted from fear to shock as they caught sight of her—Rin, bloodied, leaning against the broken boulder, her once-blazing aura now nothing but faint sparks sputtering out around her. “Holy hell… she’s still alive…” one whispered. “Don’t just stand there—help her!” another shouted. Hands reached for her from every side, lifting her gently, supporting her weight. Rin coughed, forcing a weak grin. “Heh… what took you guys so long…” “You’re a damn mess, Rin,” one classmate muttered, tears pricking their eyes. “But you did it. Shadow’s gone. You—” Her body sagged in their arms, exhaustion dragging her under. “Yumi…” she whispered hoarsely, before her eyes fluttered shut. Class 1-C tightened their hold on her, determination sparking in their tired faces. No matter the cost, they weren’t going to let Rin fall now. The voices around her blurred, muffled like echoes underwater. Rin’s body grew heavier, her vision tunneling into darkness even as Class 1-C tried desperately to keep her conscious. Their frantic shouts faded with each heartbeat. Then—silence. When Rin opened her eyes again, she was weightless, suspended in the familiar black-and-red waters of Karyu’s domain. The suffocating heaviness of her wounds was gone, replaced with a strange calm. The rippling surface parted as two colossal crimson eyes opened in the abyss. “Tch. You just don’t quit, do you?” Karyu’s voice rumbled, echoing with wry amusement. His fox-head silhouette rose from the void, tails swaying lazily. “Almost burned yourself out completely, and here you are, walking straight back into my living room.” Rin let out a tired laugh, her voice hoarse but lighter here. “What can I say… I guess I like dropping by.” The giant fox snorted, sending waves rippling through the black ocean. “You’re insane. But… I’ll admit, you fought well. Even I didn’t think you’d survive pushing both cores past their limits.” Rin floated closer, crossing her arms, though her expression softened. “If I didn’t… Yumi’s death really would’ve been for nothing.” Karyu’s grin faltered, his crimson eyes dimming just a fraction. “Hmph. You really are stubborn.” A pause lingered, heavier than usual. Then, his grin returned, sharp but proud. “Still… you’ve impressed me more than anyone in centuries, kid.” Rin gave him a faint smirk. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like you actually like me.” The fox bellowed a laugh that shook the entire domain, tails whipping the void like storms. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, brat. You’re just my vessel. But… maybe the best damn vessel I’ve ever had.” For the first time since the battle ended, Rin smiled genuinely. For just a moment, floating in the black ocean with Karyu’s booming laughter echoing around her, the pain didn’t feel so heavy. Rin stretched her arms, pretending to be relaxed as she sat cross-legged on the glowing stone floor of Karyu’s domain. The cavernous chamber pulsed faintly with ember veins running along the walls, casting fiery shadows across the massive black bars that separated her from the nine-tailed fox. “You know,” she said, her voice carrying lightly through the heat-hazed air, “you’re not half bad company when you’re not yelling at me to wake up.” Karyu scoffed, his molten breath curling against the bars as one of his massive tails flicked lazily, scattering sparks that rained across the stone. “Don’t get comfortable. If I didn’t yell at you, you’d probably still be lying face-first in the dirt.” Rin smirked, her eyes half-lidded. “Yeah, but admit it—you were worried.” The fox’s crimson eyes narrowed, their glow intensifying as his grin sharpened into something fang-filled. “Worried? About you? Hah! Don’t flatter yourself, brat.” He paused, voice rumbling low like magma beneath the earth. “…Though, I suppose letting my vessel burn out this quickly would be… inconvenient.” Rin arched a brow, chuckling. “Uh-huh. Sure. Inconvenient. Nothing else.” Karyu’s deep rumble filled the chamber—it could’ve been a growl, or maybe a laugh. “Watch it. You’re lucky you amuse me.” The flames crawling along the walls flared faintly, reflecting the tension easing between them. Rin let her shoulders relax as she exhaled, her voice quieter. “…Thanks, though. For saving me. Twice now, technically.” The fox tilted his head, his grin losing its edge. “You’re still standing because you’ve got the spine for it. I just gave you the nudge.” His eyes softened for a fleeting moment, his massive silhouette leaning closer to the bars. “And… you’re stronger than you think, Rin. You proved that today.” Rin blinked, caught off guard. “Wow. Did you just compliment me?” Karyu’s tails whipped against the ground, sending a tremor rippling through the domain as sparks rained down like fiery rain. “Don’t push it!” he barked, though his tone carried reluctant amusement rather than venom. Rin laughed despite herself, the sound echoing softly through the cavern. The laughter slowly faded into a murmur. “…Still wish Yumi was here to see it.” For once, Karyu didn’t tease. His crimson eyes dimmed slightly, his voice low and steady. “Then carry her with you. That’s what strength is, kid. Not just fighting for yourself, but fighting with their will burning alongside yours.” Rin looked up at him, her expression hardening with quiet resolve. “…Yeah. You’re right.” The veins of light along the walls pulsed warmly, not oppressive this time but alive, as if the domain itself approved of her answer. When Rin’s eyes finally opened, the world felt different. White walls, soft light, and the quiet hum of her dorm room at Hinode Academy greeted her. Her body ached—every muscle stiff, every breath shallow but steady—but her mind was slowly clearing. She blinked, taking in the familiar surroundings and the presence of her classmates. Class 1-C huddled quietly around her bed, a mix of worry, relief, and anticipation on their faces. Some hovered at the edges, giving her space, while others, barely containing their energy, kept sneaking glances to see if she was truly awake. “Rin…” someone whispered softly. She turned her head slightly, managing a weak smile. “Hey… you guys waited…” Relieved murmurs rippled through the room. Even as the country outside still trembled under the chaos—explosions, sirens, and the distant roar of Hero and villain clashes—here, in the safety of her dorm room, there was a fragile calm. Rin stretched slowly, her body heavy but her mind sharpening. Hana was the first to step forward, placing a cool cloth on her forehead. “Take it easy, Rin… you’ve been through a lot,” she murmured. Chloe handed her a glass of water, her fingers brushing Rin’s lightly. “Sip slowly. You need to stay hydrated.” Rin’s lips trembled as she took small, careful sips, each swallow grounding her a little more in the reality around her. Akane moved to her side, holding out a fresh set of clothes. “You’re going to need something comfortable. You’ve been through hell today.” Rin gave a small, tired smile and took them, her hands shaking slightly from exhaustion. Ren and Leo worked together to help her sit up gently, supporting her back and shoulders. “Careful, Rin,” Ren cautioned. “No sudden movements.” Kaito lingered near the doorway, keeping watch while offering quiet encouragement. “You made it, Rin. That’s what matters. You’re safe now.” Leaning against their support, Rin changed quickly into the new clothes, feeling some of the tension ease from her body. Her nine tails, now subdued but faintly glowing at the tips, twitched slightly as she shifted. Once seated, she exhaled fully, closing her eyes. “Thanks… everyone,” she whispered. “I… I don’t know what I’d do without you all.” Hana squeezed her hand gently. “You don’t have to do anything alone, Rin. We’ve got you.” The others nodded in quiet agreement, the warmth of their presence contrasting sharply with the chaos still raging outside. Rin felt a spark of hope ignite in her chest—not from power, not from victory—but from the bond of her friends standing steadfast beside her. As she rested, Class 1-C continued fussing over her, ensuring she drank enough, was comfortable, and slowly regained her strength. Outside, the battle for Japan raged on, but in this dorm room, for this brief moment, Rin was home. “…We’re not done yet,” she murmured softly, her voice hoarse but determined. “But… we’re getting there.” Outside, across the war-torn cities of Japan, the clash between Heroes and villains raged on. Skyscrapers shook under the impact of devastating attacks, streets cracked from the power surges of quirk- or power-wielding combatants, and the air was thick with smoke, dust, and the distant wails of sirens. But the tide had begun to turn. Hero squads, coordinated and relentless, pressed forward with renewed resolve. Teams of seasoned Heroes tore through villain strongholds, dismantling traps, suppressing rogue powers, and containing the chaos piece by piece. In Tokyo, the streets had become a battlefield of broken concrete and fire. Lightning arcs from Rin’s earlier skirmishes still lingered faintly in the sky, a reminder of the cost of this war. Mid-tier villains, emboldened by past victories, tried desperately to regroup, but the Heroes moved like a single unstoppable wave. Groups of Heroes worked together, their powers complementing one another. Some created shields to protect civilians, while others tore through villain barricades. In a district that had once been overrun, a coordinated strike brought down a villain who had terrorized citizens for months. With a powerful blast of reinforced energy, they pinned him to the ground and bound him with specialized containment restraints. Over in Osaka, another wave of Heroes encircled a notorious villain gang. Airships hovered above, dropping precise energy nets to trap high-flying foes. Ground units moved swiftly, taking advantage of the disarray. One by one, the villains were subdued—some unconscious, others restrained, all facing the inevitable consequence of their actions. Even the most dangerous rogue forces, those who had once threatened entire cities, found themselves cornered. Villains who had survived the initial wave of Hero intervention now realized that the momentum had irrevocably shifted. Panic replaced arrogance as Heroes closed in from every direction. By nightfall, the chaos began to wane. Streets that had once been arenas of destruction were now dotted with containment units, prison transports, and exhausted Heroes catching their breath. Villains were being rounded up, cuffed, or sealed in specialized cells designed to neutralize their powers. The scale of the operation was massive, but it was precise and unyielding. From the shadows of a shattered skyscraper, a group of civilians watched as their tormentors were finally brought to justice. Relief and hope began to replace the fear that had gripped them for months. Across Japan, the message was clear: the Heroes were winning. Though scars of battle remained, the villain threat had been contained, the tide of war decisively turned, and the nation could finally breathe, even if just for a moment. The dorm room was quiet, except for the soft hum of the TV. Ren picked up the remote and switched to the live news feed. “…Breaking news from Tokyo, where one of the most destructive battles in recent memory is unfolding,” the anchor began, voice tense. “Witnesses report a confrontation between Shadow, the villain known for his void-manipulating abilities, and a young individual who fought with incredible skill and strength. Entire city blocks have been reduced to rubble during the clash.” The footage displayed Tokyo in chaos: smoke rising from shattered streets, debris scattered across highways, overturned cars. In the center, a blur of motion—a figure moving impossibly fast, striking with devastating force—clashed repeatedly with Shadow, whose dark energy warped the air around him. “Eyewitnesses indicate that this individual, later identified as Rin Shimizu, initially struggled against Shadow’s overwhelming power. Reports suggest that at one point, she was nearly defeated, forcing another powered individual, Yumi, to intervene.” A new clip showed Yumi charging into Shadow’s attack. “Yumi reportedly landed critical hits against Shadow, managing to injure the villain in ways no one else could. However, despite her courage and skill, Yumi was tragically overcome, her abilities unable to withstand the pressure of the fight. She fell in battle, sacrificing herself in an attempt to protect Rin and others nearby.” The anchor’s voice caught slightly. “It was after Yumi’s sacrifice that Rin’s actions reportedly turned the tide. Eyewitnesses describe a sudden surge of energy, a blinding light that forced Shadow to retreat and ultimately neutralized him. The full extent of Rin’s power remains unknown, though sources confirm the villain was defeated decisively.” Footage showed the cratered city center: buildings scarred, streets littered with debris, and a lone figure standing amidst it all—Rin, battered but upright. Sparks of residual energy flickered around her, though no one could tell the full scope of what had truly happened. “…Following the engagement in Tokyo, coordinated Hero squads across the country have moved to contain remaining villain threats. Cities including Osaka, Sapporo, and Fukuoka report further victories, with civilians rescued and perpetrators captured. While Tokyo suffered the heaviest destruction, it was Rin Shimizu’s intervention that stopped Shadow’s rampage.” Hana placed a gentle hand on Rin’s shoulder. “That’s… you,” she murmured. “All of it.” Rin blinked, body trembling, chest tight. “…Yumi… she…” Leo gave a firm nod. “She gave everything. But you… you finished it. That’s what matters.” Outside, the country still burned, battles raged, and Heroes were slowly regaining control. In the dorm room, surrounded by her classmates, Rin allowed herself a brief moment to breathe, even as the world outside still teetered on the edge of chaos. The dorm TV flickered off, and just then, a sharp announcement echoed through the academy’s PA system. “Attention, all students of Hinode Academy! All students are to report immediately to the front courtyard. This is not a drill. Your presence is required for an important address regarding the recent events across Japan.” Class 1-C exchanged quick glances. Hana’s brows furrowed. “Sounds serious.” Chloe muttered under her breath, “Probably about… everything happening out there.” Rin, still weak but sitting upright in her new clothes, felt her nine tails twitch slightly. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright… let’s go. We need to hear what he has to say.” Ren helped her stand, supporting her weight. “We’ll get you there safely, Rin. Don’t push too hard.” As the group made their way through the academy’s corridors, the sound of footsteps and distant murmurs filled the air. Students from other classes were already streaming toward the front courtyard, curiosity and tension written across their faces. When Class 1-C and Rin arrived, the courtyard was packed, students craning their necks to see the elevated platform where Principal Jako stood. The banners swayed gently in the wind, an almost eerie calm contrasting with the chaos that had engulfed the outside world. “Attention, students of Hinode Academy!” Principal Jako’s voice boomed, carrying across the sea of students. “The past weeks have tested Japan like never before. Villains rose, heroes fought valiantly, and our nation faced threats unlike any before. From Tokyo to the farthest reaches of our country, courage and sacrifice have shaped the battles that have unfolded.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the crowd. Then his gaze shifted sharply, though not unkindly, toward Rin. “In Tokyo, a student of this very academy confronted one of the most dangerous threats we have ever faced. Despite insurmountable odds, they persevered, and through sheer will, they protected countless lives.” Whispers rippled through the crowd, and all eyes instinctively turned to Rin. Her legs felt weak, but she straightened herself, stepping forward as Principal Jako gestured for her to the center of the stage. Rin’s voice trembled at first as she addressed her classmates, but she found her footing quickly, drawing strength from their expectant faces. “I… I just did what I had to,” she said, her eyes scanning the courtyard. “Shadow… and the villains… they were powerful, and we lost people we cared about. But we fought, together. And in the end… we survived. Tokyo was saved, and Heroes across the country kept pushing forward. I… I can only hope that we’ve inspired courage in everyone out there.” A hush fell over the courtyard, the students taking in her words, feeling the weight of what had transpired. Even without knowing the full extent of her dual-core awakening, they sensed her extraordinary strength and the enormity of what she had endured. Principal Jako stepped forward, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “Rin Shimizu,” he said, his tone resolute, “you have displayed courage, resilience, and leadership beyond your years. Today, you not only faced an unparalleled threat—you carried the hopes of countless people on your shoulders and emerged victorious. On behalf of Hinode Academy, and indeed, our nation, I congratulate you.” The courtyard erupted in cheers, students clapping, some even whistling. Rin’s cheeks warmed, and she gave a small, humble bow. “Thank you… I couldn’t have done it without all of you,” she murmured, her eyes meeting those of her friends in Class 1-C. Hana, Chloe, Akane, Ren, Leo, and Kaito all smiled back, pride shining in their eyes. The applause began to die down, leaving a heavy but proud silence over the courtyard. Principal Jako straightened, his eyes sweeping over the assembled students. “Today is not just a day for Hinode Academy,” he began, his voice firm and commanding, carrying over the loudspeakers to reach even those beyond the campus. “This is a day for all of Japan. From Tokyo to Hokkaido, from the bustling cities to the smallest towns, the events of the past weeks have tested the very fabric of our nation. Our people have faced devastation, chaos, and unimaginable threat—and they have endured.” He paused, letting the weight of his words resonate. “Among the many heroes who stood, there is one student who faced a danger that none could match, yet acted with courage beyond her years. Rin Shimizu, of Hinode Academy, confronted a threat in Tokyo that shook the nation to its core—and she prevailed.” From the platform, the top pro heroes of Japan stepped forward, their presence signaling the gravity of the moment. Shigeru Takahashi raised a hand in acknowledgment. “Across the nation, we witnessed unparalleled bravery,” he said. “Rin Shimizu faced Shadow—an enemy that threatened not just Tokyo, but the safety of countless civilians. Her courage inspired us all.” Another hero, Aiko Yamada, nodded in agreement. “And yet, she was not alone. Heroes throughout the country fought tirelessly to contain threats, protect civilians, and restore peace. The victories of today are shared by all who acted selflessly.” A hush fell over the courtyard again as a familiar figure appeared—Rin’s father, Tekashi Shimizu. He stepped forward, his uniform marked by battle, eyes filled with pride. “Rin,” Tekashi’s voice rang clear, carrying over the hushed crowd, “you have faced darkness that could have crushed anyone. You fought to protect life, hope, and the future of this country. Your mother and I could not be prouder. You have reminded everyone, from coast to coast, what courage truly means.” Rin’s eyes shimmered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of her father’s words and the nationwide recognition of her deeds sank in. “Father…” she whispered. Tekashi placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “Tonight, rest. The world will need you again, but for now, you’ve done more than anyone could ask.” Principal Jako raised his hands again, addressing the students, the heroes, and through the broadcast, the citizens of Japan. “Let this day remind us all: strength and bravery are not measured by power alone, but by the will to act when the world needs you most. From Tokyo to every corner of this nation, courage and sacrifice have shaped our future. Rin Shimizu, and all who stood against the chaos, have shown us the light that persists even in the darkest of times.” A roar of applause rose from the crowd, echoing across the academy grounds and through the broadcast, reaching every home listening to the announcement. Rin bowed her head, humbled, her heart full—not just for herself, but for the bonds, the heroes, and the entire nation that had witnessed and endured the storm with her. Rin stepped forward on the platform, her legs steady now despite the fatigue still weighing on her. The murmurs of the crowd fell into silence as cameras and loudspeakers carried her voice across the nation. “I… I don’t even know where to start,” she began, her voice soft but steady, carrying an unexpected strength. “These past weeks have been… unimaginably hard. We’ve faced darkness, loss, and chaos that none of us could have expected. And yet… we are still here.” She paused, her gaze scanning the faces of her classmates, the heroes, and through the broadcast, every citizen of Japan. “I want to make one thing very clear: none of this was my victory alone. If it weren’t for the help of Yumi—her sacrifice, her courage to attack Shadow while I… while I was already dead for a few moments—then Shadow would still be alive today. She gave everything, even her life, so that we could continue. I carry that with me… always.” Rin took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words but also the pride in their truth. “To everyone watching, to everyone who fought, and to those who stood behind the heroes—thank you. The victories we’ve gained, the lives we’ve saved… it wasn’t because of a single person. It was because we all acted, together, with courage, determination, and heart.” Her eyes glimmered as she gave a small, respectful bow. “I am Rin Shimizu, and I promise: as long as I draw breath, I will continue to protect this country, to honor those who gave everything for this world, and to ensure that hope can always rise, even from the darkest moments.” The courtyard erupted in applause, the cheers echoing far beyond the academy walls. Across Japan, people paused their lives for a moment to witness the words of the young hero who had faced unimaginable danger—and survived. Even amidst the chaos still raging in parts of the country, Rin’s speech carried a simple truth: courage, sacrifice, and unity could overcome even the most terrifying darkness. As Rin’s words echoed across the courtyard, a ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. Then, a tall figure stepped forward onto the platform—his presence alone demanding attention. The Number One Pro Hero, clad in the distinctive armor of his rank, paused for a moment, surveying the students, the heroes, and the nation watching through broadcasts. “Rin Shimizu,” he began, his deep voice cutting through the silence, “you have faced a threat unlike any other. You’ve endured unimaginable loss, stood against overwhelming power, and emerged victorious. And yet, through it all, you’ve done so with courage, integrity, and selflessness.” The crowd hushed completely, all eyes on him. He raised a hand, taking a deep, steadying breath. “Today… I step down as the Number One Pro Hero. Not because I have failed, but because this title—this responsibility—belongs to someone whose actions have proven what it truly means to protect people.” Gasps rippled through the audience. Rin’s eyes widened, her body tense with disbelief. He continued, his gaze locking on her. “Rin Shimizu, effective immediately… you are hereby recognized as the Number One Pro Hero of Japan.” For a heartbeat, time seemed to pause. Then, the entire courtyard erupted in cheers and applause. Class 1-C’s eyes shone with pride, some of them even jumping slightly in excitement. Rin felt her knees weaken, but she steadied herself with the support of Hana and the others. Stepping forward again, the Number One Pro Hero extended a ceremonial hand, and Principal Jako joined him, holding a finely crafted medal of honor, glimmering in the sunlight. Behind them, the top pro heroes of the nation stood in solemn formation, each representing the countless battles fought to secure this moment. “Rin Shimizu,” Principal Jako announced, his voice resonant and proud, “for your extraordinary bravery, your unwavering resolve, and your heroic actions that saved Tokyo and inspired heroes across Japan, we formally present this recognition. Let it symbolize not just victory, but the hope you embody for the entire nation.” Rin’s hands trembled as she accepted the medal, its weight both literal and symbolic. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I… I’ll do everything I can to live up to this. Not for me, but for everyone who fought, for everyone we lost… and for Yumi.” The Number One Pro Hero placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You’ve already proven yourself, Rin. This is simply acknowledgment of what everyone already knows: your courage defines true heroism.” The crowd’s applause swelled, echoing across the academy and far beyond its walls. In that moment, Rin’s exhaustion, her losses, and the shadow of her battles seemed to fade slightly, replaced by a hard-earned sense of purpose and recognition. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the city as Rin stepped down from the podium, the cheers of the crowd still ringing in her ears. Children waved homemade banners, citizens clapped, and the once-smoldering streets of Tokyo now held the quiet hum of recovery. For the first time in weeks, the air felt lighter. Rin glanced at the faces around her—heroes, classmates, even her father, Tekashi Shimizu, standing tall and proud. A quiet smile tugged at her lips. “We did it,” she whispered to herself. Not just her victory, but the survival and unity of everyone who had fought, suffered, and endured. Even though the wounds of battle remained—both in the land and in the hearts of those who had lost comrades—the nation had a renewed sense of hope. Rin’s rise as the Number One Hero was more than a title; it was a symbol that courage, sacrifice, and determination could truly make a difference. As the crowd began to disperse and the sun dipped behind the skyline, Rin looked out over the city, her heart heavy with the memories of Yumi and the others, but full of resolve. The fight had ended, but the work of protecting the people, rebuilding, and guiding the next generation of heroes had only just begun. And somewhere deep within, Rin knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter—for her, for the Academy, and for all of Japan.