Journey through all the multi-verse

Tamayo's POV

The weeks following the incident with All Might brought no respite. The clinic has become a beacon for injured heroes, each one carried in by their comrades, faces etched with desperation. The homunculus nurses, who had been trained to near perfection, worked tirelessly by my side. Their precision and skill were unmatched, and they moved with an almost supernatural grace. Word of our capabilities had spread like wildfire. Heroes who were once skeptical now entrusted their lives to our hands.

I could feel the tides shifting. The Hero Public Safety Commission had taken notice, and with that came a new kind of pressure.

It started subtly—requests to "officially" join their ranks as a sanctioned healer. They cloaked their intent in flattering words, painting their offer as a noble cause. But I saw through their facade. They sought control, a way to monopolize my skills under the guise of protecting society.

"Your work is invaluable," said the woman from the Commission during one of their visits, her tone as sweet as honey but her eyes sharp and calculating. "Think of how many more lives you could save with our support."

I bowed politely, keeping my voice steady. "I appreciate your kind words, but I am content with my independence. My priority is to help those in need, not to serve any particular agenda."

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. "Of course, we respect your decision. However, I urge you to reconsider."

The meeting ended, but the pressure did not. Over the following weeks, their tactics grew bolder. Financial offers escalated, followed by veiled threats. It was clear they would not take no for an answer.

Iroh's Tea Shop: A Sanctuary

Amidst the chaos surrounding the clinic, my tea shop offered a haven of tranquility. Nestled within the estate, it was a place of peace and reflection, designed with simplicity and elegance. Tatami mats, paper lanterns, and low tables created an inviting atmosphere, while the soft sound of a bamboo water fountain soothed the mind. The scent of freshly brewed tea filled the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of incense.

Heroes recovering from their injuries often found their way here. I believed that healing the body was only part of the journey; the mind and spirit required care as well. Many entered burdened with doubt, anger, or despair, but they left with a sense of clarity and purpose.

One afternoon, a young hero sat at a low table, his arm in a sling and his expression sullen. "Tea won't fix this," he muttered as I approached with a tray.

"It may not fix your arm," I said, placing a steaming cup before him, "but it might help your heart."

He frowned but took a sip. His eyes widened slightly at the unexpected richness of the flavor. "What is this?"

"Jasmine and oolong," I replied with a smile. "A blend that encourages clarity of thought and serenity of spirit."

He didn't respond immediately, but he took another sip, his frown easing just a little. I seized the moment, reaching behind the counter to retrieve a Pai Sho board. "Perhaps a game might help you find clarity?" I suggested, setting the board between us.

"I don't know how to play," he admitted hesitantly, his expression softening slightly.

"Then allow me to teach you," I said with a warm smile. "It is a game of strategy and balance, much like life itself."

As I began explaining the rules, a few other patrons, curious about the unfolding lesson, gathered around. The atmosphere in the shop shifted, the tension of injuries and recovery momentarily replaced by quiet camaraderie. The young hero quickly became engrossed in the game, his initial reluctance giving way to thoughtful engagement.

The crowd grew as the lesson continued. Some watched silently, while others offered advice or asked to join future games. The hero, who had seemed so disheartened earlier, now smiled faintly as he placed a tile on the board. "I think I'm starting to understand," he said.

"You are doing well," I encouraged. "Remember, every move carries weight, but it is the harmony of all pieces together that creates true victory."

Moments like these reaffirmed the shop's purpose. It was more than a business—it was a sanctuary, a place where healing extended beyond the physical to the heart and mind.

Iroh POV

Tamayo's resolve was admirable, but I could see the toll it was taking on her. The constant stream of heroes, the Commission's persistent interference—it weighed heavily on her shoulders. As her brother-in-law, in this new life, I felt an obligation to protect her and young Kirito from these encroaching shadows.

The ANBU homunculi were already on high alert. These loyal guardians protect us in the shadows, their masks concealing their identities, moving like ghosts through the mansion. Their skills were a marvel, blending ninjutsu-like stealth with elemental bending and chakra manipulation. I often found myself observing them in admiration, but also concern. The Commission's desperation was escalating, and I feared what lengths they might go to.

One night, as the moonlight bathed the mansion in silver, an attack came. A group of mercenaries and villains, hired by the Commission, breached the outer perimeter. They were skilled—trained to bypass conventional security—but they have underestimated us.

I watched from a balcony as the ANBU sprang into action. Their movements were a symphony of precision and power. A fire-bending homunculus cornered a group of intruders, her flames forcing them into a trap where another homunculus ensnared them with earth-bending. In the shadows, a third homunculus wielded a blade with lethal grace, incapacitating the mercenaries one by one.

By the time I descended to the courtyard, the fight was over. The intruders lay bound and unconscious, their weapons confiscated. One of the ANBU approached me, bowing deeply.

"The perimeter is secure, Lord Iroh," he reported. "No harm came to the mistress or the young master."

I nodded, relief washing over me. "Excellent work. Ensure the prisoners are handed over to the authorities, and wipe their memories of this conflict before handing them over to the police. We don't need the Commission to know about our abilities and defenses. " The Anbu nodded and gave me a quick bow, then flickered away.

As I returned to the mansion, hopefully, this was their last attempt.

Tamayo's POV

The attacks became a regular occurrence. Each one was more brazen than the last, but the homunculi thwarted them all. I took solace in their unwavering dedication, but my heart ached for Kirito. Even as an infant, I could sense his restlessness. He wasn't oblivious to the tension that hung in the air.

One evening, as I rocked him to sleep, he stirred in my arms, his tiny hands clenching tightly. A soft, almost imperceptible glow emanated from him, a sign of the power that resided within.

"Hush, my love," I whispered, humming a lullaby to calm him. "You are safe here."

His eyes fluttered open briefly, and I saw a flicker of understanding in their depths. It was as if he knew, on some instinctual level, that danger lurked around us. The glow faded, and he settled back into a peaceful slumber.

Iroh's POV

The Commission's persistence was almost admirable in its audacity. After their mercenaries failed, they attempted to coerce Tamayo through legal means, citing obscure regulations about unauthorized medical practices. I dealt with them personally, presenting our meticulously prepared documentation. Our licenses, obtained through the goddess's foresight, were impeccable.

One afternoon, two Commission agents arrived unannounced, demanding a meeting. I greeted them with a calm smile, my presence deliberately imposing.

"You are interfering in matters beyond your jurisdiction," I said firmly. "This clinic operates within the law, and any further attempts to disrupt our work will be met with legal action."

They left, but their frustration was evident. This was their last gamble to get Tamato under their thumb. 

Kirito's POV

Though I was just a child, I could feel the unease that surrounded us. The nights were restless, filled with the distant sounds of the homunculi patrolling and the occasional clash of intruders being dealt with. I didn't understand it fully, but I knew my family was protecting me.

One night, I dreamt of a vast, endless field. In the distance, the white fox appeared, her tails swaying gracefully. It approached me, her eyes wise and calm.

"You are strong, little one," she said, her voice echoing in my mind. "But strength must be tempered with wisdom. Trust those who will guide you."

I reached out to touch her fur, and a sense of peace washed over me. When I awoke, the tension in the air was gone, as if the fox's presence had left a lingering comfort around me.