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Or.... you what will happen~~
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The judge stared at Indra. Why you may ask? Well... because it THE INDRA.
Three hundred people in the courtroom. Millions watching through screens. The most senior justice in Japan's Supreme Court, looking at a man who had materialised from a bolt of lightning in the middle of his courtroom floor, standing in a scorch mark on marble that had been polished that morning.
Justice Moriyama sighed and asked.
"Is the Asian Hero Support Association truly involved in this matter?"
The words landed like stones. After all, this is the AHSA they were talking about.
Even the cameras seemed to hold still, as if the machines themselves understood the weight of the question.
Indra opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Mirko jumped at him and hugged him.
Indra caught her with one arm, peeled her off with the patience of someone who had been doing this for years, and set her back on the ground with a look that said please, for the love of everything, behave for five minutes.
"Yes, Your Honour," Indra said, straightening his shirt. "The AHSA is directly involved."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small disc and tossed it casually onto the courtroom floor.
It landed with a soft clink on the scorched marble.
"Activate," Indra said. "Show VOD thirty-one."
The disc hummed. A beam of light erupted from its surface, projecting a holographic display that filled the space above the courtroom floor.
The projection showed a facility. A storage complex built into the mountains of northern Japan. The footage was timestamped around eight months ago.
The facility was under attack.
Muscular was tearing through the compound. The footage showed him ripping through reinforced doors, smashing through security barriers, moving through the facility with the casual brutality that defined everything he did.
Guards lost their lives. The footage showed bodies of AHSA personnel, security officers, and support staff lying in corridors, in rooms, on staircases.
Then the heroes arrived. AHSA-affiliated heroes, who were the response team dispatched from the nearest regional office. They engaged Muscular. The fight was brutal, short, and one-sided. Muscular overwhelmed them. Two heroes went down in the first thirty seconds. The third lasted a minute before being slammed through a wall hard enough to collapse the corridor behind her.
The footage ended with Muscular walking out of the facility, carrying the goods, and disappearing into the mountain forest.
The courtroom was silent.
"End session," Indra said.
The projection died, and the disc went dark. Indra bent down, picked it up, and slid it back into his pocket.
He looked at the judge.
"Your Honour, as you may already know, the Asian Hero Support Association operates across seventeen nations in the Asia-Pacific region. We maintain facilities, personnel, and operational infrastructure in each of those nations, including Japan."
He paused.
"Eight months ago, the villain known as Muscular attacked one of our storage facilities in the mountains of Hokkaido. During that attack, he killed eleven people. Four of them were AHSA-affiliated heroes. Seven were support staff, including analysts, engineers, and medical personnel. People who had families. People who went to work that morning and didn't come home."
His electric blue eyes held the judge's gaze.
"The AHSA takes attacks on our personnel very personally, Your Honour. We always have. It is a foundational principle of our organisation — an attack on one of us is an attack on all of us. And given our standing in the international hero community, given our strength, given the agreements we hold with the governments of every nation in which we operate..."
He straightened his posture.
"We were granted the right to retaliate. Under the International Hero Operations Accord, Article 8, subsection 3 — any recognised international hero organisation that suffers a direct attack resulting in the death of personnel has the legal authority to authorise retaliatory operations against the perpetrator. This includes, where necessary, the use of lethal force."
The courtroom took it in slowly. The legal implications settle into the minds of every lawyer, politician, and official in the room like sediment sinking to the bottom of a glass.
"Muscular was designated as a retaliatory target by the AHSA eight months ago," Indra continued. "The authorisation for lethal engagement was issued by President Ming personally. That authorisation was extended to all AHSA-affiliated operatives and, through Hero Mirko's mentorship arrangement, to Akira Shuzenji."
He looked at Akira. Then back at the judge.
"Therefore, the killing of Muscular was not unauthorised, Your Honour. It was sanctioned."
Justice Moriyama sighed, yet again, and nodded.
"Well," he said, "that makes this whole situation considerably more straightforward."
He looked at Akira. Then at Indra. Then at Mirko, who was standing beside Indra with her arms crossed and her grin stamped on her face.
"So the defendant was working for the AHSA through Hero Mirko's mentorship?" the judge asked.
Indra nodded. "That is correct, Your Honour."
"And the AHSA had pre-existing authorisation for lethal engagement against the villain Muscular?"
"Also correct."
The judge looked at Akira again. Studied the fifteen-year-old standing at the podium in quirk-suppressing cuffs, who had been silent through the entire trial, who had watched lawyers and heroes and international operatives argue over his fate without saying a word.
"We had our eyes on him for a long time," Indra added, his tone shifting from formal to something more personal. He looked at Akira directly. "We believed he would be a perfect fit with us."
He turned to Mirko. "Don't you think?"
Mirko's grin softened into something almost genuine. "I already like the boy."
"That's a crime, though," Indra said flatly. "He's fifteen."
The courtroom paused. Mirko paused. Her brain went dead for a second, then she erupted.
"NOT LIKE THAT, YOU STUPID FUCK!!!"
Indra stood perfectly still, his expression unchanged, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.
He had gotten exactly the reaction he wanted.
Justice Moriyama pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we please... maintain some level of decorum in my courtroom."
Indra turned back to the judge, the smile vanishing, professionalism restored. "My apologies, Your Honour. I hope this clarifies the situation."
The judge nodded and then spoke.
"With the AHSA's involvement confirmed and the retaliatory authorisation documented," Justice Moriyama said, "the legal framework changes substantially. The charge of unauthorised quirk usage is dismissed — the defendant was operating under the supervision of a licensed hero. The charge of unsanctioned combat is dismissed — the engagement was part of a sanctioned retaliatory operation. And the charge of homicide..."
He paused. The courtroom held its breath.
"...is reclassified as a sanctioned elimination under the International Hero Operations Accord, and therefore falls outside the jurisdiction of domestic criminal law."
The gallery erupted. Cheering. Applause. Shouting. The sound was immediate, overwhelming, a wave of noise that crashed against the marble walls and filled the courtroom to bursting.
Justice Moriyama looked at Akira. His eyes softened.
"Son," he said, his voice cutting through the noise with the quiet authority that only decades on the bench could produce, "you have caused a tremendous amount of trouble."
Akira met his gaze.
"But your intentions were clear. Your actions, while extreme, were directed at a villain who had murdered innocents and who had come specifically to kill you. And the framework within which you operated, while unconventional, has been demonstrated to be legally sound."
He straightened in his seat.
"I hope you will not make me regret this decision. I hope you will continue to stand on the side of good. And I hope that the next time you find yourself in a courtroom, it will be as a witness, not a defendant."
Akira nodded. His crimson eyes were steady. His voice, when he spoke, was the first time the courtroom had heard it during the entire trial.
"That I can promise, Your Honour," he said. "But my methods will be my own."
The judge looked at him for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"That should be good enough."
He lifted his gavel.
BANG.
"The defendant, Akira Shuzenji, is hereby found NOT GUILTY on all charges."
The courtroom exploded. Not with the controlled murmurs of a legal proceeding. With the raw, unfiltered roar of hundreds of people who had been holding their breath for hours and had just been given permission to exhale. Cheering. Crying. Embracing. The gallery was on its feet.
At the prosecution's table, Kuroda stood. "Your Honour, bu-"
"Furthermore," Justice Moriyama continued, his voice rising above the noise, his gavel coming down again with a crack that silenced the room, "this court has reviewed the evidence presented by the defence regarding the Hero Public Safety Commission's conduct during the U.A. Sports Festival incident."
Madam President's blood froze.
"The operational logs submitted by the defence raise serious concerns regarding potential misconduct by the HPSC."
He looked directly at the back of the prosecution's section. Directly at Madam President.
"Ms. President," Justice Moriyama said, "you will appear before this court one week from today to answer charges of conspiracy to endanger a minor, dereliction of institutional duty, and potential complicity in the attempted assassination of Akira Shuzenji."
The courtroom went nuclear.
Madam President's mouth opened. "What?"
BANG.
The gavel came down a final time.
"This court is adjourned."
Justice Moriyama stood. The court rose with him. He gathered his robes, stepped down from the bench, and then pointed at Mirko.
"And YOU stupid brat... meet me in my office. NOW. And bring that Indian friend of yours."
Mirko saluted lazily. "Got it, old man."
She grabbed Indra's arm and pulled him toward the side exit. And Indra let her.
As he was being dragged away, Indra turned his head toward Akira.
"We'll talk later," Indra said.
Then Mirko yanked him through the door and they were gone.
The courtroom was chaos. Beautiful, uncontrollable chaos. People cheering. Press scrambling. Politicians arguing. Lawyers gathering papers. Security trying to maintain order and failing spectacularly.
In the middle of it all, Akira stood at the defendant's podium.
He didn't move.
Because something was moving toward him.
A figure burst from the gallery section. Past the security barrier. Past the lawyers. Past the officials, and hit him like a missile.
The missile was ofc... Momo.
She grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulled him toward her, and kissed him.
Akira's eyes went wide for exactly one second.
And the courtroom erupted yet again.
In the gallery, Honoka was crying. Again. But smiling.
Reika was sobbing into Kiyomasa's shoulder. Kiyomasa was looking at the ceiling, jaw tight, pretending very hard that his eyes were not wet.
Jian grinned and turned to Mei. "That reminds me of us."
Mei looked at him. "I never kissed you in a courtroom."
"You kissed me during a hostage negotiation."
"...That was different."
"Was it?"
"Shut up."
Nezu sat in his chair at the defence table. His paws were folded. His expression relaxed.
He took a sip of tea... which he somehow always has and laughed like the manic he was.
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ANDDD end of the trail....
Hope it was decent
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