MHA: One Above All

Kai sat at the dining table, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he poked at his breakfast. Across from him, Sugihara sipped his tea with his usual composed demeanor, while Kai's parents exchanged amused glances.

"So," Kai started, leaning back dramatically, "I've been thinking… vigilante work."

His mother nearly choked on her coffee. "Vigilante work? Kai, you've got to stop watching those crime dramas."

"It's not like that!" Kai waved his fork. "I mean, think about it. A way to, you know, practice my skills before heading to UA. Get some real-world experience."

His father raised an eyebrow. "You realize 'real-world experience' in this context could land you in real-world trouble, right?"

"Yeah, but only if I get caught." Kai wiggled his eyebrows. "And that's why I have you guys! We're a team. A brain trust. The anti-getting-caught squad."

Sugihara set his cup down with a faint clink. "Master Kai, your enthusiasm is admirable, but your planning could use refinement. For instance, how do you intend to avoid surveillance? Cameras are everywhere."

Kai leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "That's where you come in, Sugihara. You're like a walking encyclopedia of espionage. Teach me your ways."

His mother sighed, though there was a hint of a smile. "I'm not sure helping you evade law enforcement is in Sugihara's job description."

"Exactly," Sugihara said, giving a small smirk. "However, if we're merely discussing hypothetical strategies…" He trailed off, and Kai leaned in, eager.

"Go on."

"First, you'll need to alter your appearance. Something simple but effective—change your posture, your gait, wear inconspicuous clothing. And, of course, a mask."

Kai nodded. "Already got that one down. Thinking something sleek, like a half-mask. Or maybe a full helmet, but lightweight."

His father cut in. "And what about your quirk usage? You can't just go around unleashing destructive energy bursts without drawing attention."

Kai grinned. "Ah, but what if I only use my quirk in quick bursts? Hit fast, disappear faster. In and out before anyone even knows what hit them."

Sugihara tilted his head. "You'd also need safe zones—places to retreat to if things go south."

"Already brainstorming that," Kai said. "There's that abandoned warehouse district near the docks. Nobody ever goes there."

His mother looked skeptical. "Kai, those places are dangerous. What if you get hurt?"

Kai shrugged. "That's the point of being careful, Mom. I won't engage unless I know I can handle it. Plus, I've been working on non-lethal techniques. It's hard to squash an ant without killing it, but I'm getting there."

His father chuckled. "That's one way to put it. But what happens if you run into a real villain? Someone beyond your current level?"

Kai paused, scratching the back of his head. "Good point. That's why I'll start small—low-level stuff. Thugs, petty criminals. Build up gradually."

Sugihara leaned forward slightly. "You'd also need to develop a system for gathering intelligence. You can't just wander the streets hoping to stumble upon crime."

Kai nodded, scribbling notes on a napkin. "Right, right. Maybe hack into police scanners? Or, like, set up a network of informants. Could use my charm to get people talking."

His mother raised an eyebrow. "Charm? Is that what we're calling it now?"

Kai grinned sheepishly. "Hey, it works sometimes."

Sugihara cleared his throat. "One more thing, Master Kai. You'd need to establish a clear exit strategy for every mission. No heroics. The goal is to observe, intervene only when necessary, and retreat safely."

Kai pointed at him. "See? This is why you're the brains. I'll call it Operation: Stealth Strike. Has a nice ring to it."

His father shook his head, laughing softly. "Kai, you've got guts, I'll give you that. But remember, this is all temporary. Once you're officially in UA, your focus shifts. No more vigilante stunts."

Kai saluted. "Got it, Dad. Vigilante now, hero later."

Sugihara finished his tea and stood. "If you're serious about this, I suggest we begin planning more thoroughly. We can start with basic recon techniques."

Kai's face lit up. "Yes! That's what I'm talking about." He turned to his parents. "See? Team effort."

His mother sighed but smiled. "Just… be careful, okay?"

"Always," Kai said, already mentally drafting his next move. This vigilante thing was starting to sound more and more like the perfect adventure.

—---------

Kai lay sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling as the afternoon light filtered through his curtains. His mind was abuzz with thoughts about his vigilante plans and, more importantly, how he could use his quirk without tipping anyone off. If he became famous, even a little, the risk of someone connecting the dots to his true identity was a real concern.

He twirled a pen in his fingers, muttering to himself. "Alright, Kai. How do you use a quirk like yours without making it obvious?"

His quirk, a powerful ability to store and release various forms of energy, was unique. But the sheer versatility it offered also made it distinct. If someone were to connect his use of kinetic blasts, thermal bursts, or even energy shields to his civilian life, it would be game over. He needed a plan—no, a strategy.

He sat up and grabbed his notebook from the nightstand, flipping to a fresh page. "Let's think this through."

Kai tapped the pen against his chin. "If I only stick to one type of energy, like kinetic bursts, it'll become too predictable." He jotted down: Use different energy types in a fight to confuse anyone observing.

Thermal energy, for instance, could be used subtly. Heating objects or surfaces wouldn't immediately scream "quirk!" to most people. Meanwhile, kinetic energy could be applied in smaller, less flashy ways—boosting jumps or increasing his running speed without giant shockwaves.

He chuckled to himself. "Imagine someone trying to figure out if the guy in the mask is using two quirks. Sucks to be them."

Next, he thought about how to blend his quirk usage with the environment. "What if people think it's tech?" he murmured. "Like, I could wear gauntlets or a fancy-looking belt and make it seem like the energy blasts are gadgets, not my actual quirk."

He grinned, sketching a rough design of a sleek glove. Maybe it could have LED lights that lit up when he used his quirk, adding to the illusion of tech. It would throw people off, making them less likely to link his abilities to a biological power.

"And bonus points for looking cool," he said with a smirk.

Kai knew that his most destructive techniques—like releasing stored energy in massive bursts—would draw attention no matter how much he tried to disguise them. "Only use those in emergencies," he muttered, underlining it twice. Don't give them a chance to study the big moves.

If people couldn't get a consistent look at his quirk's full potential, they'd be left guessing. He'd have to balance showcasing enough skill to get the job done while keeping his real power under wraps.

"Like a magician. Always keep the audience guessing."

Kai leaned back, staring at his notes. Beyond just hiding his quirk, he'd need to craft a public persona that misled people about who he was under the mask.

He grinned, imagining how his masked persona might act. "Super serious and mysterious. Minimal talking. No one's gonna think that's me, the guy who can't shut up."

He tried out a few dramatic phrases, lowering his voice. "'Justice doesn't sleep.' Nah, too cheesy. 'You can run, but you can't hide.' Ugh, sounds like a bad action movie."

Kai burst out laughing at his own theatrics. "Okay, definitely no catchphrases. Just silence and cool poses."

Finally, he jotted down the most critical point: Never use the quirk in the same way during civilian life. If he was careful, no one in his day-to-day life would ever suspect that his quirk was the same as the vigilante's.

"That means no showing off," he sighed. "Gonna have to tone it down at school, even if I want to blast Riku during dodgeball."

He snickered at the thought of sending a ball flying at supersonic speed right into Riku's face. But the risk wasn't worth it. If even one person got suspicious, it could unravel everything.

Kai sat back, looking at the list he'd made. It was a solid start, but he knew that theory was only half the battle. He'd have to test out these ideas in controlled environments—preferably under Sugihara's watchful eye.

"That guy's like a living security camera," he muttered. "If I can fool him, I can fool anyone."

He got up and started pacing, excitement bubbling in his chest. "Alright, next training session, I'll see if the gadget idea works. Maybe use a couple of fake detonators to throw him off. And I'll switch between kinetic and thermal without any pattern."

He stopped mid-stride, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Man, this is gonna be fun."

As the adrenaline from his brainstorming session settled, Kai sat back on his bed, staring at the ceiling again. Despite all his excitement, there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind. Vigilante work wasn't a game. If he slipped up, it wouldn't just be his quirk that got exposed—it would be his identity.

"Would my family get in trouble?" he wondered aloud. His parents had always supported him, but they'd made it clear that he needed to be careful. If anyone linked the vigilante to their household, it could spell disaster.

He frowned. "Gotta keep them out of it. No way am I dragging them into my mess."

A thought suddenly struck him. "I still don't have a name," he muttered. Every good vigilante needed a name—something that struck fear into criminals and awe into anyone else.

He ran through a list in his head. "Shadow Bolt? Nah, sounds too edgy. Heat Wave? Too obvious. How about...The Catalyst?"

He paused, considering it. "Not bad. Has a nice ring to it. And it kinda fits, since I'll be triggering a lot of change."

Kai grinned. "The Catalyst it is. Guess it's time to bring some energy to the streets—literally."

Kai lay on his bed, hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The soft hum of his desk fan filled the room, but it did little to soothe his restless mind. His vigilante identity was coming together piece by piece—he had plans for how to use his quirk covertly, a name that didn't sound like it came from a Saturday morning cartoon, and a growing sense of purpose. But one crucial element was still missing.

His costume.

"I can't just wear regular clothes," he muttered. "That'd be...boring. But I also don't want to look like a human fireworks show."

He sat up, grabbing a sketchpad and pencil from his nightstand. His first attempt at designing his costume hadn't gone well. The page was filled with crossed-out ideas, each one more ridiculous than the last. A full suit of armor? Too bulky. A sleek leather jacket with a flaming skull logo? Too much like a bad movie villain. A hoodie and mask combo? Overdone.

Kai sighed, flipping to a fresh page. "Okay, think. What do you want your costume to say about you?"

He wanted something practical, something that would help him move easily in a fight. But it also needed to have an edge—something that set him apart from the crowd while keeping him from standing out too much.

"Low-key badass," he mused. "Yeah, that's the vibe."

He started sketching a simple design: a fitted, dark-colored outfit with reinforced padding on the joints for protection. He added a utility belt with compartments for small tools and gadgets, not that he had many yet, but it looked cool. Over the base layer, he drew a lightweight jacket, something with a high collar that could be pulled up to partially obscure his face. For the mask, he opted for a minimalist design—a half-mask that covered his nose and mouth, leaving his striking blue eyes visible.

He held up the sketch. "Not bad," he said, tilting his head. "Looks practical. Sleek. But it's... missing something."

Kai leaned back against the headboard, tapping the pencil against his knee. His mind wandered to the great heroes and vigilantes he admired. Their costumes always had a personal touch, something that symbolized who they were. What did he want his costume to represent?

"Energy," he said aloud. "I'm all about energy."

He began tweaking the design, adding subtle lines and patterns to the fabric, reminiscent of energy circuits. They wouldn't light up—he didn't want to be a walking neon sign—but the design would hint at his quirk's power. He sketched in some textured gloves with reinforced knuckles, imagining how they'd look as he unleashed a perfectly timed punch.

"Alright, getting somewhere," he said with a small grin.

But as he stared at the updated design, doubt crept in. "Is it too plain? Maybe I need a symbol or an emblem?"

He started brainstorming symbols that could represent his quirk. A lightning bolt? Too cliché. A flame? Too obvious. A swirling vortex? Too abstract. He scribbled them all out, frustrated.

"Why is this so hard?" he groaned, flopping back onto his pillow. His gaze drifted to the ceiling again. "It's just a costume. Why do I care so much?"

The answer was obvious. His costume wasn't just about looking cool. It was about creating a persona, a figure that criminals would fear and the public would rally behind—or at least respect. It was his armor, his second skin. If he didn't feel right in it, everything else would fall apart.

Kai sat up again, determination replacing his earlier frustration. "Alright, let's try something else."

He opened his laptop and started searching for inspiration. He looked at old vigilante designs, martial arts gear, tactical outfits, even fashion trends. Every so often, he'd see an element he liked—a particular cut of a jacket, the way a hood draped over the shoulders, the texture of a certain fabric—and he'd add it to his growing sketch.

After an hour of browsing and sketching, he had a more refined design. The base was still a fitted, dark outfit with reinforced areas for protection. The jacket was now slightly longer, reaching mid-thigh, with a high collar and a hood that could be pulled up for extra anonymity. The subtle circuit-like patterns remained, but he added a faint emblem on the chest—a stylized "C" for Catalyst, his vigilante name.

He stared at the sketch, a sense of satisfaction settling over him. "Now that's a costume," he said with a nod.

But something still felt off. It wasn't the design itself, but more the practicality of it. He needed to test it, see how it felt in action. Of course, he didn't have the actual materials yet, but he could at least try out the concept.

Kai rummaged through his closet, pulling out a black hoodie, some old cargo pants, and a makeshift mask he'd used during earlier experiments. He threw them on and stood in front of the mirror, trying different poses.

"Alright, looking decent," he said, adjusting the hood. "Now, let's see how it moves."

He spent the next hour testing the outfit in his room, throwing punches, kicks, and even practicing some rolls and flips. It wasn't perfect—his hoodie kept sliding off his shoulders, and the cargo pants were too baggy—but he could see the potential.

At one point, he misjudged a roll and ended up crashing into his nightstand, sending a stack of books tumbling to the floor.

"Smooth, Kai," he muttered, picking himself up and rubbing his shoulder. "Real intimidating."

Despite the mishap, he felt good about the design. It was practical, comfortable, and had just enough flair to make him stand out without being flashy. He made a mental note to talk to Sugihara about getting the proper materials. His butler would probably know where to find high-quality, durable fabric that could withstand a fight.

Kai plopped back onto his bed, a satisfied grin on his face. "One step closer to becoming the Catalyst."

As he lay there, his mind drifted to his future adventures. He imagined himself leaping from rooftop to rooftop, taking down criminals, and leaving behind a trail of confused villains who couldn't figure out his quirk. He pictured the headlines: Mysterious Vigilante Strikes Again.

The thought made him chuckle. "It's hard to squash an ant without killing it," he mused, recalling a quote he'd heard from Sugihara during one of their training sessions. It was a reminder that precision and control were key. He'd have to strike hard enough to stop his enemies but not so hard that he crossed a line.

His grin faded slightly as he considered the weight of that responsibility. Being a vigilante wasn't just about cool costumes and clever tactics. It was about making tough decisions and staying true to his values.

Kai sat up, his expression serious. "I can do this," he said quietly. "I'll make it work."

With his costume design finalized and his resolve stronger than ever, he knew he was ready for the next step. All that was left was to bring his vision to life and step into the role he was meant to play.

Kai sat cross-legged on his bed, illuminated by the soft glow of his laptop. He was deep in thought, his fingers drumming against the keyboard as he skimmed through military strategy forums, war documentaries, and scholarly articles on ancient combat tactics. Each nugget of information added a new layer to his growing mental arsenal.

"Alright," he muttered, scrolling through a breakdown of guerrilla warfare, "strike fast, strike smart, and vanish before they even know what hit them. Sounds good in theory, but how do I make it practical with my quirk?"

He leaned back, arms behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Raw energy alone wasn't enough. If he wanted to survive—and thrive—as a vigilante, he needed more than brute force. He needed strategy, finesse, and a deep understanding of how to outthink his opponents.

Kai dove into the principles of layered defense. He'd read about how ancient castles weren't just about thick walls but about creating multiple layers of obstacles to exhaust and confuse attackers. He tapped his notebook and jotted down a few ideas: Use kinetic barriers as decoys. Alternate between thermal and kinetic strikes to keep the opponent guessing.

"What if," he mused, "I stored kinetic energy in bursts and released it as a staggered force? Like… multiple shockwaves instead of one big blast?" The thought intrigued him. By layering his attacks, he could create a rhythm that was harder to predict and counter.

He immediately stood and tried it in his room, releasing small, controlled bursts of kinetic energy in quick succession. The air trembled faintly with each pulse, scattering papers and shaking a glass of water on his desk.

"Not bad," he grinned, wiping his hands on his pants. "Could be useful for keeping someone off balance."

Next, Kai focused on deception. He recalled the famous Trojan Horse story and how the Greeks used cunning to defeat a fortified enemy. Deception had been a cornerstone of warfare for centuries, from feigned retreats by the Mongols to camouflage tactics used in modern special forces.

"How do I fake someone out with a quirk?" he muttered, scrolling through examples of diversion tactics.

Then it hit him: false energy signatures. If he could manipulate the release of heat and kinetic energy subtly, he could simulate movements or attacks from directions he wasn't even present. He spent hours fine-tuning this idea, experimenting with controlled pulses to create misleading trails of heat or sound.

"If I can make it seem like I'm attacking from the right while I come in from the left… that's gonna be a game-changer."

Kai delved into case studies from historical battles. He read about Hannibal's tactics at the Battle of Cannae, where he encircled a numerically superior Roman army through calculated misdirection and pressure. This sparked another idea.

"What if I trap my opponent in an energy loop?" he wondered aloud. "Force them to react to continuous strikes from all sides, wearing them down bit by bit."

The concept was simple but powerful. By storing massive amounts of kinetic energy, he could release it in controlled arcs around a confined space, effectively "trapping" his enemy in a whirlwind of force. The beauty of it was that his opponent wouldn't be able to predict where the next strike was coming from, allowing Kai to conserve his own energy while maximizing his opponent's exhaustion.

He tested the theory in his backyard the next day, using practice dummies to simulate enemy positions. With a combination of well-placed bursts, he managed to keep the dummies swaying, torn between multiple points of impact.

Kai knew he wouldn't always have the advantage. Some enemies might be faster, stronger, or have quirks specifically designed to neutralize his abilities. That's why he studied battles where underdogs triumphed against overwhelming odds.

He focused particularly on scenarios where armies adapted mid-fight. The Battle of Midway, for instance, showed how swift adaptability could turn the tide. It wasn't just about planning—it was about reacting to unforeseen circumstances faster than the opponent.

"Alright," he murmured, sketching diagrams. "If someone counters my thermal attacks, I switch to kinetic. If they block kinetic, I ramp up the heat. Always keep them guessing."

He practiced rapid transitions between energy types, aiming for seamless switches. His goal was to ensure that no opponent could ever lock him into one predictable pattern.

—---------

Sugihara noticed the change during their next sparring session. Kai wasn't just fighting harder; he was fighting smarter. He'd feint a kinetic strike, only to unleash a thermal burst from an entirely different angle. He would retreat, only to use the retreat as bait for a counterattack.

Sugihara raised an eyebrow as he narrowly dodged one of Kai's traps. "Impressive, Master Kai. You've been doing your homework."

Kai grinned, panting slightly. "You could say I'm learning from the best."

But Sugihara wasn't going to make it easy. He countered with his usual precision, forcing Kai to adapt on the fly. Kai relished the challenge, realizing that every mistake he made now was a lesson learned for the future.

After training, Kai sprawled out on the grass, staring up at the sky. His mind wandered to larger-scale strategies. What if he found himself facing multiple opponents? How could he apply military doctrines like divide and conquer?

He envisioned scenarios where he'd split groups apart using controlled blasts, isolating individuals to pick them off one by one. He also considered how terrain could factor into his plans, imagining urban environments where he could use buildings and alleys to his advantage.

The more he thought, the more confident he felt. This wasn't just about brute force anymore. He was learning to think like a commander, anticipating moves and counter-moves, always staying one step ahead.

Despite his excitement, Kai knew there was a weight to his choices. Vigilantism wasn't a game, and every fight carried risks. The strategies he was honing could save lives—or end them if he wasn't careful.

As he sat in his room that night, surrounded by notebooks and sketches, he resolved to use his power responsibly. Every calculated strike, every deceptive move, would be aimed at subduing his enemies without unnecessary harm.

But as the saying went: "If you want peace, prepare for war." And Kai was preparing for every battle that might come his way.