Toru Hagakure, also known as the Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl

After the paragon of justice, All Might, made his exit from the scene of professional heroism in Japan, the former #2, Endeavor, jumped up to the top spot. His move up was controversial, to say the least. Endeavor was a big, scary guy who didn't smile a lot; he wasn't the type to shake hands, pose for a photo, or sign autographs. All Might had acted as a deterrent to villainy through the use of overwhelming strength, but also, he was the type of person who put a smile on everybody's faces. Endeavor only hit one of those two marks.

You wondered if that bothered Endeavor as much as it bothered you. Like the big man, you'd been blessed with a quirk that generates powerful flames, but unlike him, you'd ended up as a delinquent, squatting in an alley somewhere while you should have been at your dead-end excuse for a school. You'd just barely squeaked by and graduated, but these days, you were no more productive than you had been then.

It wasn't exactly too late for you to make something of yourself. Manual labor was always an option and you were well built for it; your quirk might even have applications in certain jobs. For now, though, you were living mostly off occasional odd-jobs and the generosity of your parents.

Not everyone with a fire quirk was suited to grow and become the nation's #2 hero.

A big difference between you and that guy, or so you suspected, was that you'd been given reasons to hate your quirk. You were capable of using friction against your skin to charge up heat inside your body, then expelling heat by blasting fire out of your mouth like a certain giant lizard from popular media. When you were a kid, that all seemed fine; you'd even been excited to devote yourself to hero studies.

When puberty hit, however, you'd discovered a lot of grotesque stipulations that came along with your quirk. First off: when you'd started masturbating, you quickly came to understand that beating your meat charged up your quirk harder than anything you'd ever tried. Government testing had never picked up on this and it was way too awkward to tell your teachers about. Essentially, your quirk's potential was far wilder than anything that anyone, including you, had suspected... but to utilize it at its full strength would mean stroking your bare dick. That was sort of a non-starter.

Even worse: your first relationship had gone up in flames, almost literally. You'd discovered that the earlier-mentioned arousal, when mixed with skin-on-skin contact, caused your quirk to become crazy strong... So strong that you could probably jump-start your place into the hero program if anybody discovered your full potential. It was a destructive quirk, but sometimes, Japan needed such quirks to fight against the ever-strengthening forces of villainy.

Whether they needed you or not, you were out. You didn't want to become the hero people know for skin-ship and erotic stimulation. Even if it meant wasting your potential as a hero and forgoing physical relationships, you were much happier spending your life as a deadbeat.

You'd done everything you could to avoid situations where you needed to use your quirk. Part of that had meant honing your muscles and training your fists; you weren't some kind of pro wrestler or a tae-kwon-do master, but you'd been in plenty of scuffs and usually came out on top, even against quirked opponents. Unfortunately, even you sometimes felt a need to use your quirk when you saw scum that deserved to burn; like low-life criminals who targeted those struggling to get by; there seemed to be more of those types, ever since All Might had fallen out of the picture.

Lately, several of your odd-job spots had complained about a group of reptile quirkers called Monitors. They were a bit like the Italian mob, sponging "protection money" for threats that they themselves stoked, controlling turf. You weren't sure what was so tough about a bunch of guys with mutant reptile features, but there was, after all, a pretty famous hero who got by with frog-like traits. Either way, you resolved that if you saw them flexing around your work route, you were going to teach them a lesson with your fists.

The only part that confused you was why nothing had been done about them from the hero side yet. Were the heroes really just going to let these lizard-man fucks get away with pushing their weight around with the common people? There was always the possibility that this went deeper than you understood, but it seemed to you an easy enough problem to solve for those with government authority.

When you saw the opportunity, you wouldn't lose it. It was a stroke of luck-- good for you and bad for him-- when you spotted one of the scaly fuckers riding the subway with you one day. The bastard was tall, lanky, with a snake's head, a cheap red blazer over ill-fitting white slacks, and a long tail whipping back and forth against the floor of the train-car. A noisy rattle was attached to the end of the tail, which made his careless swipes of his tail through the crowd piss you off all the more. He wasn't even hiding his criminal intentions; you could see the guy standing, casting a shadow over a helpless old man he was shaking down for money, while bystanders tried not to watch or get involved.

Determined to do something about it, you rolled up the sleeves of your ragged, black flannel, then approached with a stormy frown on your face. Ironically, you thought you had about as many eyes warily trained on you as the Monitor did him, despite your good intentions. Before you could could reach him, however, you bumped into something chest-first... it was as though you'd run into some kind of invisible bar, blocking your progress towards your intended beat-down recipient.

Confused, you swiped the air with one arm, trying to determine the source of the disruption. You felt yourself hit something, then heard a wincing voice respond to the thwap.

"Ouch! Heeey... This area of the train's off-limits! Turn around!"

Where had that voice come from? The hissed whisper sounded like a girl's voice... the kind of cute voice you'd associate with someone no older than 18 or 19. "I've got business with that fuck-head over there," you returned in a quiet voice, pointing towards the scaly, green head of the perpetrator. "Who's sayin' I can't?"

"I'm a hero! Whatever business you've got, it has to wait. This is hero business!" the girl's voice sounded emphatic; it was clear she was begging you, a civilian, not to butt in.

"What is this, fuckin' telekinesis? Or are you invisible?" You questioned her in your thick, Kansai dialect, sounding more like a thug than the suave, Italian-styled gangster on the other end of the car. Angrily, you used your hands to feel around the air, trying to find any other traces of the girl that would explain how to bypass them. She was making you look like a damned idiot, pushing you back by exerting some small pressure against your chest. One would think, if she was invisible, it would be as simple as grabbing her hand and working your way up to the arm... but it was surprisingly hard to grapple with an invisible person and the wrist kept eluding you.

Finally, you found your hands meeting more resistance. Resistance might be the wrong word; you'd misjudged and ended up grabbing one of your large hands right atop her breast.

"You perv! You're feeling me up!?"

"Shit!" you exclaimed, then withdrew your hands, raising them into the air defensively. What the fuck were her boobs doing all the way down there?! Was she really that short? This girl claiming to be here on hero business was so small, she could still pass for a high schooler. However, if she was a pro hero, she had to have already graduated. That'd make her over eighteen. As short as she was, she seemed to have a really well developed body, at least in the chest area... the breast had filled your hand surprisingly well.

You'd always heard about hero students starting work fresh out of the business, usually as sidekicks, but it was still weird to see such a petite girl on dangerous hero business. "No fuckin' way... Are you the one they've put on the Monitors?" you questioned, searching fruitlessly for some face to glare at.

"Gee, how about a little more confidence? I'm Invisible Girl! Sure, you've probably never seen me, but you must have heard of me, right?" the invisible half-pint questioned. "Don't sell me short! There's a lot of things you can do when you're invisible!"

"Yeah? I'll bet," you retorted with a snicker in your voice. This was the kind of girl who, in your estimation, was pretty lucky she'd skirted her way through the hero program at all. What good was invisibility when there were genetically spliced, mutant freaks flying around the city, or, in this case, reptile-headed gangsters? Was her quirk even strong enough to fight some guy with a dumb quirk like this?

As you were questioning this, your pants suddenly dropped down and around your ankles, revealing plain, white boxer shorts and the sculpt of your masculine thighs and calves. The train-car began laughing around you while you growled and pulled your pants back up to your waist.

"See? Strength will never beat technique and I'm the trickiest they come! Underestimate the Stealth Hero at your own risk, buddy!"

"What kinda fuckin' hero goes around pantsing people?!" you asked, slightly red-faced in spite of yourself. You liked to think that was more frustration than bashfulness. "Casper the Fucky Ghost!"

"Wha-?!" the young lady hero cried, surely drawing the attention of the snake-headed man, if she hadn't already done that by pulling your pants down. "How else is a girl like me supposed to deal with a big meathead like you? Besides, don't question my methods; I'm in the middle of an investigation right now!"

"Yeah, well, your investigation's over. That guy's headed right towards us. Stand back and I'll take care of him," you informed the aptly named Invisible Girl.

"No, you stand back! I've been scouting this guy for a while and-!" she fired back, but you interrupted her before she could finish.

"And what, you're gonna pants him? I know gun laws mean this guy probably isn't packing a piece, but he may still have a knife. Sit the fuck down and let me take care of him."

"Gosh darn it, let me do it!"

Finally, the rattlesnake guy made his way over to you, holding his hands in his pockets and wearing a wide smile across his long, reptilian face. His bug-eyes blinked with odd, semi-transparent lids as he tilted his head side-ways to watch you with one eye. There was no real distinction between his head and his neck; you wondered to yourself what it must feel like to be able to whip one's head around that way. "It's so nice to be popular. Are you two fighting over me?" He began, removing one hand from his pocket to gesture flamboyantly at his tacky blazer.

"I wouldn't call you 'popular,' exactly. You're Rattle, of the Monitors; your whole gang's wanted on several counts of extortion! I'm the Stealth Hero, Invisible Girl, and I'm bringing you in for some questions about your friends," Invisible Girl boldly proclaimed. You couldn't believe she was taking the direct approach with this dangerous criminal. Thin as he was, the guy was still a mobster. The guy probably had some dangerous techniques, even if they were limited to that squirming tail and the fangs inside that face of his. Furthermore, he might be armed.

You thought you finally understood what was going on. The reason that nobody had made a move on the Monitors yet was because the heroes were still staking the gang out, trying to see if they had ties to some larger organization. Invisible Girl had been dispatched to follow them in private and when she saw you were about to start a physical confrontation here on the train, she intervened. It was even possible the old man you'd tried to help was in on it, a decoy to draw out Rattle. You'd really screwed up their operation just now... Maybe you ought to stand back and leave it all to Invisible Girl after all.

Something felt ominous to you. His whole manner of speaking and the confidence of that smile made no sense, considering he was fighting a completely invisible hero. Even you weren't sure how you'd fight an opponent you couldn't even see. When you looked at those beady, menacing, slit eyes of Rattle, you wondered if Invisible Girl had properly accounted for all of this guy's tricks.