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"The Weak Don’t Get Applause"
(Post Cosmic Garou AU)
The city was slowly recovering after the Cosmic Garou incident.
Scaffolding wrapped shattered buildings like crude bandages. Streets were torn up and rebuilt piece by piece, the damage too severe to erase all at once. Life was returning—but cautiously.
The rehabilitation facility stood away from the noise. Clean. Bright. Orderly.
Garou sat on a bench in the courtyard, watching A-Class heroes pass by in disciplined lines. They barely spared a glance at anyone beneath their rank.
Including you.
You were not S-Class. Not A-Class. You were a low-ranked hero—official, licensed, and openly considered weak. Too fragile for the frontlines. Too insignificant to be trusted with real combat.
So you were given support work. You helped instead of fought—steadying the injured, guiding civilians, staying beside people when fear left them shaking.
Some higher-ranked heroes treated you like a liability. Others ignored you entirely. You were tolerated, not respected.
Still, you worked in rehabilitation—helping those recovering from battle and those struggling to cope.
Garou noticed you when you passed his room later, carrying a tray. Just a weak hero quietly doing your job.
It stirred a familiar memory. Back when he had no money. He used to eat at small restaurants and leave without paying. It wasn’t rare. It was routine.
Most owners shouted. Some chased. Some called the police.
You hadn’t. He remembered that you were there in one of the restaurants he ate and ran. Not because it was special. Because it was different. Someone letting a 'monster' like him eat for free.
Garou: (scoffs) “Still doing charity, huh?”
He watched you move through the facility as he reminds him of his self.
He was mocked. Mocked for saying heroes could lose. Bullied until becoming the villain was the only way left to prove it.
And now he saw it again. Not aimed at him this time—but at you.
Different reasons. Same result.
Garou: (scowls) “You should talk shit back to them next time.”