(PROFESSOR UZUMAKI) A TALE OF THREE TEENS II

The city was quiet in that special, miserable way only Brockton Bay could manage, its cold air heavy with the kind of smells that stuck to the back of your throat and refused to leave. And through it all came the constant, distant wail of sirens, rising and falling. A grim reminder that peace never lasted here.

Sophia Hess crouched on a rooftop, her cloak hiding her from view as she stared down at the streets below. Another patrol, another stretch of boredom between the brief bursts of action that made her feel alive. She waited, eyes scanning for movement, for some idiot mugger or low-tier cape dumb enough to make her night worthwhile.

Winter break was supposed to be time off. For normal kids, anyway. For her, it just meant longer hours to think. And lately, she’d been doing a lot of that.

She thought about Naruto. About how she hadn’t trusted him when he first appeared at Winslow, and how that unease hadn’t entirely gone away. He’d walked in with that calm, easy confidence, smiling like he belonged there, like he didn’t see the decay around him for what it was. She’d pegged him for one of those eccentric do-gooder types who pretended to care while secretly judging everyone. The kind that thought if they just talked enough, everyone would magically stop being broken.

But he wasn’t like that.

He was better.

He didn’t just talk; he acted. He helped her when he didn't have to do shit, and continuously trained her, teaching her things that were actually useful. He didn’t back down when she glared, didn’t fold like a wimp when she threatened, and never once looked at her with pity.

And that? That mattered.

Somewhere along the way, she’d started respecting him a little. Or maybe more than a little, if she was being honest. Enough to pay attention, and enough to care about what he said. It surprised her. She expected to be like Emma and Madison: too proud to learn, and too stupid to recognize and take advantage of shit when it stared them in the face. They’d come to Naruto’s class for the sheer novelty of it, for the ‘training with a real cape’ bragging rights, and the social points. And when it stopped being easy, when they had to actually work, they masked their growing weakness with snide comments and insults.

That was fine. Let them.

These days, Sophia made up excuses not to meet them. She told herself it wasn’t avoidance—she wasn’t the type to run from anyone—but the truth was simpler. They weren’t worth her time. Emma was still chasing her illusions of being special, and Madison followed whichever way the wind blew. Weakness clung to them like a stench, and weakness disgusted her.

That didn’t mean she was suddenly considering being friends with Hebert or Veder—fuck no—but at least they understood. They knew what it meant to want more, to grasp at something bigger than themselves. They had seen what chakra could do, and knew not to jeopardize this opportunity.

She could feel it thrumming under her skin even now, a steady pulse of energy that made her feel more alive. When Naturo first taught it, she’d thought it was nonsense, some exotic breathing exercise wrapped in half-mystical mumbo-jumbo. But then she’d felt it, truly felt it, and everything changed. The first time she used it while in her Breaker state, the sensation had almost been intoxicating. She wasn’t just moving through darkness anymore; she was the darkness, virtually untouchable and unstoppable.

The PRT had tested her afterward, running every scan and simulation they could think of. God, she would never forget hearing Armsmaster choke on nothing as he saw the results, could never forget his strained voice as he read them to her: a longer shadow-state duration, immunity to electricity, and enhanced speed, strength, and acuity. Tangible, quantifiable gains.

And the crazy part was that she was just scratching the surface.

If she could do this with basic control and a few weeks of training, what could she do with months? What about years? The thought made her grin, slow and dangerous beneath her mask.

Naruto wasn’t just powerful; he was on a completely different level, and she knew it. If her strength had grown this much in such a short timeframe, then what did that say about him? How much power did someone like him really hold after years, or maybe a lifetime, of mastering this energy? It was almost frightening to imagine.

The PRT never said it outright, but they didn’t need to. Sophia could tell from the way Armsmaster’s tone shifted whenever Naruto’s name came up, or the way Piggot’s expression became pinched when she mentioned his class. They didn’t understand him, couldn’t measure him, and that scared them. It made them careful.

And then there was the other thing, the little detail the PRT hadn’t meant to tell her, but she heard anyway. Naruto had turned down a personal offer from the Chief Director herself. Rebecca Costa-Brown.

You didn’t just say no to someone like that, not unless you had the power to back it up.

When the news spread down to the Wards, she was there to see their reactions firsthand, the envy, the disbelief, and the irritation barely hidden behind strained smiles. Vista had tried to play it cool, but her voice had gone sharp when she asked, “So… he’s training you personally?” Clockblocker had scoffed, muttering something about how “insane” Naruto was for refusing the PRT. Even Gallant had looked uneasy, like he was trying to puzzle out what kind of man could walk away from that kind of offer.

They couldn't stand the thought that she, of all people, was one of the select few being taught by the same man who’d refused the most powerful woman in the country. 

And Sophia had loved every second of it.

It proved what she already knew, that Naruto wasn’t like them. He didn’t need the PRT’s approval or their structure, and didn't bend under anyone’s authority. He stood above them.

It was strange, feeling both respect and fear for someone. She didn’t like admitting that second part, not even in her own thoughts, but she couldn’t deny it. Nor could she deny that it sucked that Emma and Madison—the former, especially—didn’t understand that the kind of fear Naruto inspired wasn’t weakness. It was a challenge, one almost designed explicitly to push you to improve. 

But, to be fair, if he hadn’t vouched for her that night, if he hadn’t offered her that choice, she might have written him off completely. She would have kept lashing out, the same violent, bored girl who only felt alive when she was hurting someone. And sure, she didn’t regret that part of herself; it was who she was, and she wasn’t wrong for being that way. Violence worked. Fear worked. But now she could be smarter about it. She could channel that poison instead of feeding it and letting it control her, choosing when to strike, how to strike, and make it count.

The thought of going back to who she’d been, of stagnating like Emma, made her stomach twist. 

Sophia could, and would, be so much better. 

Brockton Bay was a shithole, always had been, but with chakra flowing through her, maybe she could finally do something about it. It wouldn't be by pretending to be a good little Ward like Gallant or Vista, but by doing what she did best.

Hunting.

Taking out trash that didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. 

Maybe that was the point. Maybe that was why Naruto had trained her. He hadn’t outright stated it, but part of her wondered if he saw something in her worth saving, or if he just wanted to see what she’d do when given real power.

Either way, she wasn’t going to waste it.

Sophia smiled beneath her mask, feeling the chakra ward off the chill her bodysuit couldn't.

She didn’t know where she was headed next, but she knew what she’d find when she got there: someone weak, someone who thought they could hide, and someone who would remind her why she needed to keep getting stronger.

Because power wasn’t about being good.

It was about being better.

And Sophia Hess had never settled for less.