Disclaimer: The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi.

Author's Notes: So ahhh, I didn't plan out my extras properly. The one below was meant to go right at the end of the last chapter, but I fudged. Because it's relevant, I'm putting this up here and in the originally-planned chapter for the foreseeable future; it'll be removed in due time.

Here's to two years and a 100k words.


X Extra (A): And so, Tabe Soramitsu intrudes upon someone's dinner…


"Haruto-chan! Stop!"

Tabe Soramitsu flinched and backpedalled away. A beagle, no taller than his knee, pulled at its leash as it tried to lunge at him. It growled lowly, baring its canines, until its owner, a perky-looking girl in her teens, forcefully collected the dog into her arms; it still refused to stop barking at him. Unbeknownst to the girl, his stomach growled, and he clutched at the front of his rumpled shirt, failing to stop a whine from escaping his lips. It hurt. His body ached from the hollow pang of hunger.

It was an agony he could never escape from.

His Quirk had altered the acidity in his stomach to be able to dissolve the hardiest of materials instantaneously. Because of it, no matter how much he ate, his hunger could never be satiated; it was like a bottomless pit.

He hated his Quirk.

Without sleep and adequate nutrition, Soramitsu began fading away at an early age. His body had always been frail, for as long as he remembered. By the time he was in his teens, he refused to look at himself in the mirror. Those eyes of his, shadowed and red-rimmed, haunted him. It didn't help that his Quirk had altered his facial structure to make him appear ghoulish, with an over-pronounced jaw to fit his large mouth and teeth.

He hated how hideous he was.

The girl looked apologetic, before a grimace briefly crossed her features when she caught sight of him. She schooled it back into a sheepish smile, bowing. "I'm so sorry. Haruto-chan isn't normally like this."

"I-It's—" Soramitsu slurred his words, his saliva catching on his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, "—fine."

He hated how his mind drifted.

He imagined himself biting into her shoulder; the visceral crunch of bone and sinew sinking under his teeth. He hated that pleasant tingling sensation that set in the pit of his stomach. It barely lasted a moment, but it was a relief, all the same.

He must have been staring because when the girl spoke next, she was almost shouting, "W-Well, I have to go, mister! My whole family is waiting for me to come back from the store!"

Soramitsu ducked his head down, ashamed, as she practically sprinted away from him.

He hated how people feigned being civil.

Ever since Overhaul first recruited him into the Shie Hassaikai, he rarely ventured out in public alone. His appearance made people uncomfortable. In turn, it made him uncomfortable.

Soramitsu pulled his arms around himself, shivering. It wasn't the sudden chill that swept past him that made him shiver, rather it was the fear of exposure creeping up his spine. His breath quickened and he stole a quick look around him.

Passers-by were sparse. The residential area he found himself in wasn't particularly busy at this time of night; most, he assumed, were inside their homes. In another lifetime, he remembered living in a similar estate. The houses around him were modest, but the fact that these families owned land in a city like Tokyo meant that they were more than well-off.

It wasn't long before he arrived at the address his master had given him. Cautiously, Soramitsu approached the residence and squeezed through a narrow opening to access their small backyard. It was dark out, and the only light source was coming from the glass doors that lead into the living room. He spied a woman having a quiet meal alone at a small dining table; there was a second chair that remained conspicuously empty.

Soramitsu must have stood there for what felt like minutes, observing her without a word. The woman barely paid her surroundings any attention, transfixed as she was on their television; the news was broadcasting a supposed villain attack—somewhere in Hosu.

Even as Soramitsu put on his mask, he didn't feel any different. He quietly undid the locks and took his first steps forward into the house. It was quaint and homey, not unlike the one he used to live in. For a split-second, his eyes gave way to a memory of blood-splattered walls and bloody trails.

Try as he might, he could never escape from the hell of his own making.

He shook his head.

The woman noticed him, scrambling back and knocking her chair to the floor, terrified. "W-Who are you?!" she screamed. "What are you doing in my house?!"

He hated himself more than ever.

"Your daughter… H-Her name… It's Hachisuka Kuin, r-right?"

There was a hint of recognition that reached her eyes; muddled as they were in the hurt and humiliation behind her gaze. "K-Kuin? What has my daughter done? W-What do you even want with her? I-Is this about my husband?"

His stomach growled and Soramitsu hungered. His lips quivered beneath his mask as he uttered:

"I-I'm so-sorry."


0.0


Even as Arisato Minato braced himself for the impact, he couldn't help but be thrown off balance when the ground beneath him quaked under the force of giant footfalls. Yu had grown to her full height, her features grim and eyes narrowed, as she bore down upon the destroyed plaza.

"Three bogies in the plaza!" She turned back and looked down at him. "I don't see Endeavor anywhere. Keep an eye out. He's your priority!"

"Pony up, Mount!"

In contrast, Mirko's eyes were wild, almost feral. Hopping forward to gain momentum, the veteran Pro Hero jumped at Yu in one massive leap and hitched a ride on her arm.

Minato tried his best to keep up.

In the immediate wake of the explosion, the plaza really did resemble ground zero—where there was once an abundance of greenery and life was now nothing more than ruined earth and concrete. The explosion had ravaged the area closest to them, but beyond that, most of the cityscape went untouched; it made for a weird juxtaposition where the unwanted destruction bisected the natural order of the city.

Minato had expected to find casualties en masse. Instead, there were none. Only those monstrous beings, three of them, were scattered around the area, wreaking havoc on anything and everything around them.

It took Yu a handful of steps to get into the thick of things as she engaged one of the creatures with a sweep of her leg. Her adversary was an imposing specimen, with rippling muscles and skin as dark as onyx. The helmet and cylindrical harness it wore wasn't dissimilar to the ones used by the winged fiend that Mirko had defeated. Yu's kick sent the creature hurtling into a building like a stone skipping on water. The difference in size was too great. Yet, Yu remained cautious and didn't follow up on her initial attack.

"Be careful!" she said. "One of them has an explosion Quirk!"

A shout, one that straddled between anger and excitement, reached his ears. Mirko had pushed off from Yu's arm and landed neatly between two of the creatures; she didn't waste time engaging both of them at once.

One was a squat and hunched beast with reddish-brown scales. It wore armour, unlike its allies, the curved construct extending from its head down to the back of its spine, and was dotted with dozens of hollow pockets. All of it reminded him of an armadillo.

The other was a large, rotund being, with a bulging waistline that spilled over the top of its tattered jeans. Its flabby and droopy skin, or what resembled it, was a patchwork of different coloured flesh stapled across its massive frame. Its mask was different than the others, more like a rebreather, with a small cylindrical canister resting in the folds of its neck fat.

"Mount, you get Brawny!" Mirko hollered. Minato heard her well enough despite the distance. "Tiny and Patches are mine!"

And now they had names…

As Minato ran, he set his sights on their respective battles.

Mirko was enjoying herself despite the handicap. She was fast, but not as fast as Tiny, which zipped around the battlefield like it was a broken pinball machine. It shot long, white bony quills from the back of its armour, fast enough to rival a machine gun fire. Hundreds, if not thousands, of those quills were peppered into every conceivable surface in the plaza, forming a forest of makeshift stalagmites.

Patches lumbered after Mirko in the wake of her battle/chase tag with Tiny. She would occasionally take potshots at the corpulent monstrosity, her devastating kicks doing nothing more than wobble the blubbering mass that was its stomach. It secreted something each time she did, Minato couldn't tell what, but an unknown viscous liquid would spurt out from the fat folds on its body.

Yu, however, was visibly conflicted as she strayed the distance between Brawny and Mirko's opponents. She remained with the most immediate threat. Brawny had recovered, roaring its rage, as it pulled itself out from the haphazord tomb of rubble and concrete.

"Shout if you need me!"

Minato knew that every battle was won or lost before it was ever fought; that had been a lesson forged in the fires of the shadow-infested halls of Tartarus. The unknowns were too glaring. Three creatures with unidentified Quirks—one, a very clear and present threat…

It was a tenuous game of three-card monte.

Oh, what he would give to have Fuuka by his side right now…

He had to take it one step at a time. He needed to win control over the battlefield and consolidate their position. There was strength in numbers. Even if it meant grouping their enemies closer, these creatures were too mindless to attempt at working together; they were far too much like shadows in that regard.

Right…

All of this was nothing new to him.

When he closed his eyes and tried to centre his breathing, he heard a dry, hacking cough. It was faint, given the clamour of battle raging around him, but he acted on his better judgment and followed it. A few metres away, Minato found a tall figure leaning against the shattered remains of a wall. It took him a good second to realise who it was because of all the dust and grime on his person.

"Endeavor…"

Minato rushed over and knelt by his side.

Endeavor had his head bowed, but he was breathing, albeit it was erratic and shallow. A lone eye peeked at Minato, then lingered over the battlefield. "Get out of here," the man grunted, his voice weak. He tried to stand. "Do you want to die, boy? This isn't a place for you to play make-believe as a Pro Hero."

Minato thinned his lips into a line.

He needed healing.

And a mythical creature of old galloped towards him in his mind's eye. In its last few trots, the equine being slowed and leaned its head into his outstretched palm. He brushed its muzzle affectionately. Its horn glowed, enveloping him in its warm embrace, and bathed his vision in a pure white light.

The power came to his hands sluggishly.

Healing Endeavor would be taxing. He had already used it to heal his arm over the course of the day, and then with Mirko just minutes ago—Yu's healing had been of little consequence. He had to be more frugal when using his personas for the coming fight.

"I can heal you," Minato said. When Endeavor made to speak, he pressed his hands against the Pro Hero's chest and cut him off, "I work for Mount Lady. Burnin-san asked us to assist you. No, this isn't my real costume. I didn't have time to get a replacement."

Endeavor scoffed, but that didn't last. The man gnashed his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as the effects of Dia took hold on his person. By the end of it, Endeavor wasn't the one one breathing heavily. "Direct and quick to act… You don't see that much in sidekicks your age."

"Technically, I'm an intern," Minato said. "I'm still a third-year student at UA."

"Am I supposed to be impressed you name-dropped my alma mater?"

Minato blinked slowly. "I didn't know you went there. I don't follow Pro Heroes all that much. The only alumni I remember is All Might-sensei, and that's because he started teaching there this semester."

Endeavor was quiet but his expression grew stormy. The man had regained the colour in his cheeks, and flames sparked into life around his eyes and chin to form a makeshift mask. When he brushed Minato aside and got to his feet, those flames extended to the rest of his costume. Thankfully, Endeavor's injuries weren't that severe, seeing that he was able to move again so soon; anything more serious usually had people bedridden.

Minato counted that as a small mercy for himself as well.

Endeavor didn't bother to thank Minato. Instead, the 'No. 2' Pro Hero trained his eyes on the battle before him, pleasantries forgotten. "There's barely any bodies left."

"I didn't see anyone else. You were the first casualty I came across."

Endeavor nodded brusquely. "So be it. This isn't the time to grieve for the departed; we mustn't allow their sacrifices to be in vain. There are six Nomus within Hosu—one of which I've already disposed. That leaves two unaccounted for."

"Nomu…" It sounded strange on his lips. "Is that what they're called?"

"That's supposed to be classified information, but I doubt the authorities could keep a lid on it after all this."

"I see," Minato said. "Mirko-san took one down by herself. I can confirm that it's dead."

A rough smile stretched across the man's lips. "One left… and I know which one." Endeavor's flames grew wilder as it coalesced around his being. He regarded Minato out of the corner of his eyes. "You've done enough, boy. A battlefield is no place for a healer. Run back to Burnin and help her with search and rescue. Your Quirk will be of greater use there."

Minato followed after Endeavor's broad back and called for another persona. This time, he gifted the man the divine boon he had granted both Yu and Mirko.

Endeavor turned back to Minato as he tested the strength in his arms. "Is this you?"

"I'm not just a healer; I can fight," Minato explained. "My powers are versatile. I work best fighting between the lines and supporting the frontline fighters. Between yourself, Mount Lady, and Mirko-san, we have that."

Endeavor was nonplussed. "Then go to Ekou Street. Regroup with a man called Gran Torino. My son—"

"Frankly, sir… I don't work for you; I work for Mount Lady. Even if you disapprove, I won't leave. It would be best if you could accept that. With all of us together, this is the best chance we have to end this—once and for all."

Endeavor stared at him, long and hard.

With the 'No. 2' Pro Hero with them, it felt like the last piece of the jigsaw was in place.

Minato had experience leading from the front, but it wasn't a role that suited him. There was a reason why Mitsuru had entrusted him as their field team leader—a position that saw him sit in the core of their battle formation, next to Fuuka. He had an unnatural instinct for battle; one that allowed him to grasp the threads as it ebbed and flowed like the push and pull of the ocean's waves.

For the members of SEES, he was the sharpness of their blades—the sum total of their craft.

"A loudmouth rabbit, a giantess, and a schoolboy… If this isn't the start of some bad joke, then I'll hang up my cape and become a comedian." Endeavor scowled and walked ahead. "What's your name, boy?"

Ah, hero name first…

"It's—"

"Shiiiittt!" Minato heard Mirko scream; her attention was split between her opponents and something up in the sky. "We got a chopper incoming!"


0.0


"It's just like in the movies…"

Shigaraki Tomura couldn't help but stare at the plummeting 'Fuji-Q News' helicopter; it was hard not to. Bereft of its pilot and passengers, it had spiralled into a dangerous tailspin and was now set on its deadly collision course for earth. It wasn't long before he lost sight of the aircraft completely as it dipped below the height of the surrounding buildings. He did, however, distantly hear the meaty crash that followed.

Turning to his new captives, Tomura smiled widely. Standing before him was the 'Fuji-Q News' crew that Kurogiri had ably commandeered. Credit where it was due; there wasn't a long list of people that could attempt a hijacking-slash-kidnapping while on a moving aircraft, much less succeed.

Not that he would willingly admit it out loud…

"Ah, don't be afraid, Rina-chan," Tomura said. "I'm a really big fan of yours. I'd ask to shake your hand, but I think we've all seen what would happen if you did."

He tittered at his own joke.

What had initially been a crew of three, Tomura had whittled down to two when the cameraman, in a fit of desperation, tried to make a run for it. The subsequent show of force was enough to cow the others—the older male pilot, and one Kadokawa Rina, the female lead anchor of 'Fuji-Q News'.

"What's a lead anchor doing out in the field?" Kurogiri asked. "Isn't all of this a little below you?"

The pilot, with greying hair and a thick stubble, stepped in front of Rina, shielding her behind him. The older man tried to get in Kurogiri's 'face'. "What's it to ya, freak?! Why don't ya pick on someone yar own size?!"

"Is that supposed to be you?"

"T-There—" Rina held the older man back and cleared her throat forcefully. "There was a restructure within the team. When the opportunity came for me to get more involved with the headlines, I took it. This is exactly where I want to be."

Tomura clapped, propping his thumb away from the rest of his fingers. "I've always admired your professionalism, Rina-chan. It's even more refreshing to see it in person. Don't you think so, Kurogiri?"

"A talented spin doctor, for sure."

Rina put on a brave face, but Tomura could see that her bravado was misguided. "You need us for something. That's why… That's why you won't hurt us. If we cooperate with you, will you let us go?"

"What are ya doing?!" the male pilot asked. "Don't start negotiating with villains! What makes ya think they'd keep their word?!"

"Quiet," she hissed.

Tomura laughed, long and harsh, then stopped just as abruptly. "Skill check passed." He smiled and motioned to the video equipment on the ground. "I want to get in touch with a friend of mine here in Tokyo, but I forgot his number. I was hoping you could help me send him a live video message. If it's on Fuji-Q, I'm sure he'll see it. I know he's a really big fan of yours."

Rina shook her head, saying, "You m-murdered Shigeo; he was the only one who knew how to operate the camcorder. Besides, there are protocols in place. There's no way that the network would allow—"

Tomura shot forward and pressed his hand into the pilot's face. There was a muffled gurgle, followed by a flash of fear that reached into his deadened eyes, before the rest of his being followed suit and crumbled into dust.

Rina screamed and collapsed to the floor, her body shaking so violently that it was comical. She tried to scramble towards the edge of the rooftop, as the dust that was her former colleague was swept up in the breeze.

"Y-You said—You said that you wouldn't hurt us!"

Tomura coughed and waved a hand in front of his face; the dust almost made him sneeze. "The old bastard didn't pass the skill check. Besides, you're not cooperating." He stalked towards her, a hand raised in front of him. "Do you need an incentive? We could start with your fingers and work our way up."

Kurogiri picked up on his threat quickly. The ethereal villain created a warp gate that deposited the woman back at his feet. Tomura pressed his foot down on her mid-section when she tried to scurry away.

"Shigaraki-dono's Quirk is fairly immediate," Kurogiri explained. "We would have to amputate your limbs to prevent the flesh rot from spreading. It is not a Quirk that is suitable for torture, at least if we cared enough to keep the victim alive."

"Please! Please!" Rina tried to push his foot off her, sobbing. "I'll do whatever you say!"

"Help me send my message to All Might," Tomura said. "Or we'll find another network who will." His eyes scanned the skies above, which was sadly lacking in willing volunteers. He turned back to the woman. "I'll give you from the count of three, or else I'll start with your left pinky…"

Rina stared up at him, lips quivering.

"Three…"

"I-I don't know if—"

"Two.."

"Just give me some t-time to think! I can… I can—"

Tomura leaned down at the waist and reached his hand out towards hers. "One."

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Rina leaned away from his touch, practically willing herself to become one with the floor. "Give me my phone," the woman gnashed out, breathing deeply. "J-Just get me my phone! I can call one of my producers and tell him that I have an exclusive with the mastermind of the 'Hosu Massacre'. They won't say no to that. It won't be 'live' live; they'll delay the feed by thirty seconds—just… just in case you give them a reason to cut the feed entirely."

Tomura smiled. "See, Rina-chan… Even in the face of death, you pull through with your professionalism. How could I not be a fan?"


0.0


"There's no one inside!"

Let it be known that Takeyama Yu was nothing if not resourceful.

Still, it was hard not to question why there was an empty helicopter crash landing down upon her, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

With a quick wind-up, Yu plucked the spiralling helicopter in mid-air and pitched her arm forward in one smooth motion. She ended up using it as a modified fly-swatter; the fuselage crashed into the earth and nailed the burly bastard on its guard. There was an ear-splitting screech of shearing metal, as the rotor blades rent into concrete and splintered away. Then, it all came apart.

The resulting explosion forced her back. Flames lapped at her fingers, and she could feel it singe the skin beneath her costume. Yu shook her hand roughly to quell the burns.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Rumi howl with laughter. "That was fuckin' 'A' awesome, Mount!"

Yet, it wasn't enough.

"Are you serious right now?"

Beneath the burning wreckage, she spotted movement. Then, another bloody mindless roar. The remains of the fuselage were lifted into the air and was hastily thrown in her direction. She swatted it down just as easily.

It seemed that whatever attack she mustered against it, Brawny was able to regenerate its torn flesh and mend its shattered bones. Each time it did, the downtime was effectively cut by half, as if its body was adapting and evolving to protect itself from this newfound threat to its being. All that Trigger probably didn't help things. She had damaged the tank on its back earlier; it spewed clouds of reddish-black vapour until it was spent.

Yu wondered if she had made it worse by being overly-cautious with her opponent.

It made sense to her. They had no way of knowing which one of the three creatures caused that earlier incident; they had to avoid inducing a second explosion at all costs. Now, she feared that she had created another problem—a relentless juggernaut with immense staying power.

Brawny came charging at her.

Yu clucked her tongue. At the very least, Brawny had a one-track mind, so the only thing she had to worry about was keeping it away from the others. If Rumi's fight with the winged creature had taught her anything, its fleshy exposed brain seemed to be its weakness. She had to find a way to trap it and deliver an inch-perfect blow to its brain. Maybe if she could switch in Rumi or Minato—

Aw, hell… Where was Minato?

A great gout of hellfire enveloped Brawny mid-way in its charge. Beyond it, she spotted the tall, built figure of the 'No. 2' Pro Hero in all of Japan. Endeavor's expression was livid. To be fair, she had never seen him not look angry…

"Boy!" he shouted. "On me!"

Minato was nearby, approaching from another angle as he piled on the pressure with his own flames to wall off its escape.

Her adversary stalled in its advance and sunk to its knees, flailing and shrieking in agony. Its flesh burned and boiled under the intensity of their flames, first burning a bright red before blackening into a dry leathery husk. Despite that, she saw its flesh and muscle sluggishly knit back together.

"Stop!" she told them quickly. "It regenerates and adapts to whatever you throw at it!"

Both Minato and Endeavor were frighteningly quick on the uptake.

When Yu raised her foot in the air, hovering in place over Brawny's ablazed form, they halted their onslaught. It gave her a brief window to stamp down on the brute with all her might. Bone and sinew crunched beneath her feet as she ground her boot into the rapidly-forming crater. They became an efficient unit.

Despite how morbid it seemed, Yu couldn't help but compare it to traditional mochitsuki, something she used to do with her dad, except with like… fire and blood instead of red bean and rice.

Yet, the creature still roared its defiance. Once more, its body was adapting—recovering quicker and quicker with each passing iteration.

That was until Minato took it a step further.

He switched gears with each attack; he invoked torrents of flames to complement Endeavor's hellfire; he summoned great sheets of crystallised ice to freeze and coat its beleaguered form; he conjured lightning from his hands that staggered the creature so violently that wisps of smoke trailed upwards from its broken mask.

It was one thing to watch what he did to Kugutsu on video, and another thing entirely to watch it in person. Yu could only watch him in quiet awe as he went through the motions. She even caught Endeavor staring…

"Finish it now!" Endeavor bellowed.

Minato called forth that weird glowing energy again and she felt the familiar surge of strength return to her. She crashed her foot down on Brawny with enough force to judder the foundations of the buildings in her immediate vicinity.

Endeavor was gearing up for his final assault. He pulled his arms tight at his side and thrust them forward with a roar:

"Get back!"

Yu wasn't dumb enough to get caught up in an explosion twice.

Endeavor's raging blast of hellfire narrowed into a compact fiery drill. It lanced towards its target, scorching the concrete beneath beyond all recognition, but before it could connect, it suddenly veered off-course. From the brief look of surprise on Endeavor's face, she assumed that Minato must have added a little twist of his own; Yu could see Minato's brow furrowed in concentration, a hand raised before him.

It was subtle, and not entirely visible, but Yu felt the wind pick up around her.

Endeavor's concentrated hellfire circled the creature and spiralled up into the air; it took on the form of a fiery snaking coil. As if reacting to some unknown command, the coil then pulled taut. It sundered Brawny horizontally along its frame, like… like a perfectly-cut futomaki.

Barely two minutes had passed since Endeavor and Minato had joined the fight, and in the blink of an eye, they had ended it.

Yu couldn't help the unease that settled in the pit of her stomach.

As a Pro Hero, there was always a strict mentality to avoid the use of excessive force. It was even mandated into law to govern the lawful actions of a Pro Hero all those years ago. But like everything else in life, it wasn't so black-and-white. Laws were subjected to interpretation. It was understandable. Quirks were too unique to an individual for the laws to be applied wholesale. Hell, by the letter of the law, some of the stuff she did while carrying out her duties as a Pro Hero was considered illegal.

But this was different…

This was the first time she was directly involved with taking a life, and she was sure that it wouldn't be her last. In the back of her mind, she was always prepared for the eventuality, but this kind of overkill… even if it was necessary, it didn't sit right by her. It would have been easy to point to the alternative—but only after the fact. For her, it was simple.

She knew it was the right thing to do.

She knew it was a necessary evil.

She knew she hated it too.

The fact that she made Minato complicit in all of this gnawed at her conscious mind even more. He wasn't even old enough to drink, and he had already been forced to take a life, even one as inhuman as this creature; she didn't even want to think about the legal ramifications of him not having his provisional hero license.

Yu bit her bottom lip.

She had to sit him down and talk to him after all of this.

Even as the flames smouldered, Endeavor didn't waste a second. He stalked forward and peered into the crater of Brawny-futomaki. There wasn't much of a reaction from the man, but he nodded once, then stared up at her, his features just as stern.

"Mount Lady!" he barked.

It threw her for a loop; enough to jolt her to stand at attention. "Yes?"

Endeavor pointed across the plaza and into the distance, over the city. "Search the surrounding area. There should be another Nomu unaccounted for—one with four eyes and a long neck. Subdue it. It's the one that caused the earlier explosion. Under no circumstances are you to allow it to come into contact with an emitter-type Quirk."

He walked away—towards Rumi—before she could even string two words together in reply.

Minato, who had his hands on his knees, grimaced when she caught his eye. With a visible exhale, he gestured to the man's back and gave her a thumbs up; it was Minato-speak for 'I did what you asked and got Endeavor'.

"Are you all right? After… that?" Yu motioned with her head at Brawny-futomaki, but not quite looking at it. "Be honest and tell me if you're not."

He looked down and nodded wearily, then winced when he heard Endeavor's overbearing roar:

"Boy! Don't dawdle! Where is that spirit from earlier?!"

Yu mirrored his expression and mouthed Endeavor's new pet name for him. He gave her a look that was halfway between 'I don't want to talk about it' and 'This is my life now'. When he made to follow after the man, Yu called out to his back:

"Hey, I don't want you to overdo—"

She cut herself short when a digital billboard situated at the far end of the plaza switched to a live news feed. A pale man with shaggy greyish hair dominated the frame. She couldn't make out his features, except for his eyes, because a dismembered hand covered most of his face.

What the hell…?


0.0


Consciousness returned to him.

Within that disorienting haze, Akaguro Chizome tried to will his eyes open. He found that he couldn't—not fully. The bruises and welts that marked his body and face throbbed listlessly. The pain was dulled, like it had been relegated in the background, for a burning sensation took over his being; it felt like with each straggling breath he took, fire burned in his lungs.

And yet… the shame of losing burned him even more.

He was being escorted somewhere; he felt rough hands pulling at the crook of his bound arms. The binding that restricted him was tight, but there was enough leeway to reach for the small knife he had secreted in his wristband; they had recovered every other weapon on his person except that.

It was sloppy but fortuitous.

He had to wait for an opening. His injuries would limit him, but he tried to keep his breathing steady; he couldn't afford to give himself away that he was conscious.

The conversation of those around him perked his ears.

"Sorry to push you kids, but we need to move fast," that voice was familiar, deep; it came from right beside him. Of the four that were in that alley, only Native, the Pro Hero he had tried to kill before the others intervened, fit the bill. "The closest emergency shelter should be just up ahead. After we hand the Hero Killer over to the police, I need to regroup with the other Pro Heroes and help with S&R and containment."

"A-Ah, we can still help, Native-san!"

"Yes, Native-san!" another exuberant voice exclaimed. "Please allow me to assist as well! My injuries are limited to my arms only; it shouldn't affect my Quirk!"

"Midoriya-san, Iida-san," Native interrupted. "You've done more than enough tonight. Not only did the three of you save my life, but you managed to stop the Hero Killer—a villain that has eluded capture for more than a year."

"But I could still be of some use! Plus, if we happen to come across Manual-san, I—"

"Iida-san," Native said. "I could never justify the need to bring two injured students with me. Even if you had your provisional hero license, my answer would still be the same."

Chizome could sense the awkward tension that hung in the air.

"If it's possible, I would still like to send word to Endeavor." The speaker was calmer, his tone almost monotonous. "We haven't seen any reinforcements since I've arrived. I'm worried that something must have happened, especially after that explosion earlier."

Two voices were easy to identify; the Ingenium brat and the one called Midoriya. Those two were up ahead, likely leading the group, with Native and the dual Ice/Fire user flanking either side of him as they dragged him along.

"I can request for a comms unit once we reach the emergency shelter," Native said. "There should be—"

[All Might, All Might, All Might…]

Chizome felt himself come to a stop.

He recognised the voice; it was hard not to. Peering through the cracks in his eyelids, he found Shigaraki's face dominating the digital billboards that surrounded the once-busy intersection he was on. Still, he wasn't the only one who recognised Shigaraki.

"Midoriya!" the Ingenium brat said. "Isn't that the villain that attacked us at the USJ?"

"Shi-Shigaraki Tomura! He's here?! In Hosu?!"

[Where are you? Where is the 'Symbol of Peace'? Hosu is burning because you're not here to put out the fire. There're so many people dying, so many people calling out for your name… Can their voices not reach you anymore? Have you forsaken the people of Hosu?]

The villain laughed, his tone pitchy; it was the kind that grated on the ears.

[You were fast enough to save your students once, but it's different now. I can see the proof right in front of me.]

The camera shakily tracked Shigaraki as he moved across the rooftop. More than anything else, it captured the floor and heels, and the audio of undignified feminine grunts. When it finally centred back on Shigaraki, he was standing at the edge, spreading his arm out with a flourish at the devastated orange-hued skyline of Hosu.

[This is just one ward in Tokyo, All Might. What happens when it's not just Hosu—when there's two or three or four cities burning all across the country? What happens then? What happens when people start to realise that the greatest hero of our time is just as human as the rest of us? That he can't save everyone?]

Shigaraki stilled and stared directly into the camera, his beady red eyes narrowing.

[I can't deny that you're still as strong as ever, All Might. Our last fight showed me that. But if I can't break your body, then I'll break your spirit. No one—no man, woman or child—will ever know what it means to feel safe again. This country will truly understand what it means to fear… to fear an evil that never rests.]

Shigaraki smiled, not that it was visible with the dismembered hand over his features, but his eyes gave it away.

[Your age is over, All Might. It's finally time for the age of villainy to rise again.]

The feed ended abruptly and it panned to a shot of the newscasters in the studio. They were quick to sensationalise it. Spliced with the aftermath footage of the chaos and destruction that had ravaged Hosu, the narrative… shifted. The consensus boiled down to a single question:

When every other Pro Hero was unfit for purpose, where did that leave them as a society?

Chizome clenched his jaw tight.

Was this truly the way forward?

Was all the theatrics and the death of countless innocent lives necessary to break the stranglehold these false heroes had over their society? Rather than force these false idols to look inward at themselves, was it simply better to project their deficiencies to the world? To have society judge their protectors as unworthy through their failures instead of hailing them as martyrs in their deaths?

Had he been going at this all wrong?

No…

No. No. No. No. No.

That couldn't be true.

This was his life's work—the culmination of everything he had done, the sacrifices he had made, and the hardships he had endured. He couldn't allow his convictions to be washed away by the words of a two-bit villain like Shigaraki. He wouldn't allow it.

He… He needed to see it for himself.

All Might was the key. He was the one to—

Chizome caught a hint of movement out of the corner of his eyes. He closed them, feigning unconsciousness.

"So, that guy is the leader of the League of Villains?" Chizome heard Native ask the others. "And he tried to infiltrate your school just so he could kill All Might?" The Pro Hero whistled. "Damn, that's some next-level villainy right there."

"They used the same creatures as the one that attacked us at the USJ," the quiet one said. "The only difference is that they're equipped with support gear now."

"Everyone! Could it be possible that Stain and the League of Villains are working together?"

"It's very likely, Iida-san," Native said slowly. "The odds of the Hero Killer and the League of Villains showing up in Hosu on the same night is too improbable for it to be a coincidence. For all we know, Stain could have been taking orders from this Shigaraki-character all along."

Almost as a reflex, Chizome's lips curled.

Quietly, indistinguishable from the pervading background noise of the city, there was a low murmur:

"No, it doesn't make sense. Everything we know about Stain points to the fact that he's a lone wolf, and Shigaraki wouldn't have the temperament to deal with someone like him. Native-san is right. It's too much of a coincidence for them to be in Hosu together. But even if they're not working together, they're both here for a reason. Maybe to prove something to each other? There's a very clear difference in ideologies—"

"Bah!" someone shouted. There was a meaty 'smack', followed by the heavy and distinct footfalls of boots hitting the ground. "Don't get your head jumbled up in a mix, you brat! Didn't I tell you to plant that butt of yours in your seat back on the train? What in blue blazes are you doing here with the Hero Killer, of all people?!"

The speaker was new to him; new to the rest of the group too, given their alarmed shouts. It was older, wizened. By now, the quiet one had let go of him entirely and Chizome could sense him walking away—towards the others.

"G-G-Gran Torino-san? I-I c-couldn't! I had to—"

"You couldn't follow instructions?!"

Chizome didn't recognise the name, but it was clear that reinforcements had arrived. His window was closing. If there ever was a time to make his move, it was now.

He forced his eyes open.

With a flick of his wrist, Chizome dislodged the knife from his wristband and let it fall into the palm of his hand. He cut through his restraints and pivoted on his knees, pulling Native down by the hem of his costume to put the Pro Hero off-balance.

"Hu-Aarghhh!"

Native's cry of surprise twisted into one of pain as Chizome thrust the knife into the man's midsection—at the man's liver—thrice in quick succession.

"Native-san!"

Chizome hauled Native in front of him and pressed the knife deeper into the wound. Before him, the trio of students stood paralysed, and the newcomer, Gran Torino, a short elderly man in a plain costumed attire, was immediately on edge; he was like a coiled snake, ready to strike.

With short but quick movements, Chizome wrapped an arm around Native's neck and shielded his body behind Native, careful to angle himself so as to not be caught out by their Quirks.

"No one move," he said, slowly getting to his feet. The mere act of standing sent sharp lances of pain to ripple in his abdomen. It was hard, not only to stand on his own two feet, but to support the weight of his human shield as well. Through gritted teeth, he added, "He's bleeding out. He'll be dead in five minutes—max."

The quiet one, the boy with half white and maroon hair, none-too-subtly tried to move to get a better angle on him. Chizome twisted the knife slowly, using Native's pained screams to let them process the seriousness of his threat.

"Less now," he hissed forcefully.

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Gran Torino snapped. "Go!" His eyes narrowed behind his black domino mask. "Your freedom is short-lived, Hero Killer. When I catch up to you, and I will, I'll put you down like the rabid dog that you are."

Chizome sneered. "You can't stop me. None of you fakes will ever stop me—" his chest burned with every word that escaped his lips; his breathing steadily laboured until he was audibly wheezing, "—from ac-accomplishing my life's work. Only the real heroes," he tried to say. Unconsciously, his eyes lingered on Midoriya. "Only the real heroes can…"

It was getting harder to breathe, much less talk; it felt like his throat had closed up into the narrowest of pinholes. Chizome coughed into Native's back, and he could see a mixture of blood and spittle catch on the man's nape.

The old man grinned. "It looks like these kids here did more than enough to stop you, Hero Killer. By your own logic, that makes 'em real heroes, huh?"

No.

No. No. No.

"All Might," Chizome growled. "Only All—"

A brilliant streak of gold, mixed with red and blue, blazed across the night sky. It almost felt like a hallucination because it looked for all the world that the golden-sheened asteroid was now bearing down upon them.

But it wasn't…

With a muffled 'thump' of displaced dirt and concrete, All Might slowly rightened himself and stood before them in all his glory. Garbed in his signature 'Golden Age' costume, his sheer presence alone dominated their attention—all without saying a word.

"A-A-All Might!" Midoriya shouted.

There was no campy catchphrase. All Might stared at him, his eyes shadowed, but Chizome could almost imagine the raging orbs of fire roiling in its place. To his allies, All Might must have been a literal beacon of light. To him, the only real hero in this world resembled nothing more than a vengeful oni.

Chizome laughed, deep and throaty. For once, the pain he felt was inconsequential.

"You're the only one, All Might!" he roared. "You're the only one I deem worthy to kill me!" He removed the knife from Native's gut and held it aloft, poised to bring it back down over the Pro Hero's heart. "Do it! If you don't stop me, the streets will forever run red with the blood of—"

"It will be all right, Native-san," he heard All Might say quietly.

Chizome didn't even see All Might move. In one moment, he was conscious, and in the next, a blinding white stab of pain.

Then, darkness…


0.0


"Move!"

His breaths came in laboured. Still, Arisato Minato pushed himself forward, away from the brunt of Endeavor's attack as the flames splashed dangerously across the surroundings; the intensity behind his hellfire was oppressive, even at a distance. Despite being caught in the middle of that firestorm, their opponent, Patches, didn't seem fazed by it.

Endeavor paused in his assault and regarded the monstrosity, frowning. "Its hide is resistant," he said. "Not ideal."

Patches continued lumbering forward, its blubbering mass heaving with each step it took. Every so often, it would squeeze the folds of its 'flesh' and force out a vile purplish puss that oozed between its sutures, coating its massive frame with it.

They learned early on that the puss was highly-concentrated alkaline—evident by the caustic burns all over Mirko's body. It ate through her costume, at her skin, exposing the raw flesh and muscle beneath. How the woman could still move, much less fight the way she did, was beyond him…

"Fat bastard is annoying, ain't he?!" she yelled. "Watch your butts! He'll chuck that shit at you too!"

Further away, Mirko was preoccupied with her own opponent, somersaulting away from a barrage of white bony quills as Tiny pinged around the plaza—now on the offensive. She was favouring one leg, and her limbs and torso were peppered with quills; some were embedded deep enough that the tip pierced through the flesh completely. The woman barely flinched when she had to pull them out.

Minato gritted his teeth.

He needed healing.

And an honourable spirit greeted him in his mind's eye. The soul of blessing and prosperity exuded an aura of serenity. Awashed in the golden glow of its presence, Minato felt… at ease with himself, so much so that he mirrored its expression.

Yet, in reality, he was struggling. The power did not come to him easily. He held his hand out at Mirko and uttered:

"Dia."

The effectiveness was reduced given the distance; it didn't help either that she was an actively-moving target, but the spell still took hold. Slowly, flesh and muscles knitted back together—not fully, but it was enough.

"Motherf—" he heard her yell.

Mirko stared at him, her jaw set and red eyes narrowed. It looked like she had wanted to say something then, but when a quill caught her flush on her shoulder, she must have decided otherwise. Her attention returned to Tiny, now bearing down upon her at full tilt.

Although, Mirko couldn't keep the scowl off her face…

"I can't keep buying you time to recover," Endeavor called out to him. "Every second you take is time we can't afford to waste."

"I need to…" Minato said slowly, "…catch my breath."

"Recuse yourself then." Endeavor turned away, readying himself as he trained his sights on Patches. "You're nothing more than a liability now."

Minato grimaced.

It was a first for him—working with actual professionals.

It wasn't a slight against his former SEES members. Far from it. Despite their relative youth, SEES was an incredibly well-run and efficient combat unit. He could probably chalk it up to bias, but there were few that could rival their prowess in battle.

Who else in this world could boast standing up to an actual God?

But that was exactly it. He had been too used to teaming up with people in his age group. Even with Mitsuru and Akihiko, despite their seniority, he had been given agency to dictate their actions in battle. Here and now, he didn't have that distinction. Endeavor and Mirko were professionals at their peak. They wouldn't willingly defer to a student, much less one they barely knew. The two had wordlessly decided to divide and conquer, splitting their targets apart and focusing their efforts individually.

Endeavor had a no-nonsense approach to battle. From the outside looking in, the 'No. 2' Pro Hero dominated by the sheer strength of his Quirk, but it disregarded the sharpness of his analytical mind, even his astute decision-making skills.

Mirko was the opposite. She was a fighter who revelled in the heat of a battle. She moved with the predatory grace of a hunter; the kind that relied solely on finely-honed instincts and nothing else. Her prowess in combat was obviously second-to-none. Alone, she had been able to fend off against two Nomus.

Minato could sympathise with Ken, of the anxiety and pressure the boy had felt, when he first joined the team—with peers that were much older than him and already suited to doing things a certain way.

But he couldn't afford to wallow in his unease any longer. It was time to act. It was time to end it. He trusted in their abilities—to adapt to him. If he couldn't lead with his words, then he would lead with his actions.

Minato closed his eyes.

He breathed deep. He exhaled aloud.

In that all-encompassing darkness in which he was the centre, ichor burned in his veins. With each passing breath, the accursed blood ruptured flesh and sinew, and from it, a cloud of spores burst forth, propagating into the darkness; in its place grew small bell-shaped mushrooms, spindly and tall.

A robed figure glided through the inky darkness, its sword carried in the crook of its arm. It stopped before him, and Minato had to crane his neck up to peer into its skeletal face. The top of its head widened above its brow, shooting outwards like a mushroom cap; its head was angled so that it blotted out the radiant light streaming down upon his form.

The skeletal deity opened its mouth wide, its jaw clicking languidly from the effort, as if intent on swallowing him whole. In that void that lay within, absolute darkness permeated, and its invisible walls echoed the wailing screams and haunting cries of men; it was the disembodied chant of those who knew what it meant to fear and despair—of a being beyond words and imagination. Through the darkness that man so rightly feared, but could not shy away from, empty eyes stared back.

Chernobog.

The Black God.

For too long, its existence had been whispered by men, amongst their drinking fests and feasts. Some were uttered in reverence—to wish evil upon their mortal enemies; others to denounce its malevolence—for its hand in guiding famines across their lands. It drew power from their belief, whether it was in spite or veneration. Power, after all, held no duality.

And it was that power that Minato stole away…

Far above him, the night sky, with its vast reaches of darkness, was illuminated by a sickly gibbous moon. Minato raised a hand before it and clenched his hand into a fist.

"Mudoon."

A heavy weight, a suffocating presence, descended upon the battlefield. Pools of black ichor materialised from the ground beneath Patches' feet. The hellish black mire caught the Nomu unaware. Tendrils of wispy black aether shot out from the void, constricting itself around Patches and binding its movement. The aether pulsed, like it was mimicking a heartbeat, as it drained the monstrosity of its strength.

Patches lashed out forcefully against its bonds, moaning in anger, but the tendrils tightened its hold, forcing the creature to its knees. Even then, Minato struggled to keep it in check.

"Now!" Minato shouted. "While it's down!"

Endeavor was not a man who would let such an opportunity slip. He thrust himself into the air, the soles of his feet burning as he did, and landed precariously on Patches' broad and bulbous shoulders. He stared down upon the creature, sneering.

"Let's see if this will take," he said.

With an almighty roar, Endeavor grabbed hold of the Nomu's head, his large hands clasped around its fleshy exposed brain, and… let loose. A great torrent of hellfire blazed between his hands. The flames, unfettered, was almost hypnotic to watch—first blazing a bright crimson before coalescing into a pure blue inferno.

Endeavor didn't let up, even as the ghoulish wails petered into a dead silence, even as the smouldering husk that was the Nomu's head shrivelled and blackened beyond the point of recognition. Only when its massive frame pitched forward, like a marionette with its strings cut, did the 'No. 2' Pro Hero leapt from his perch atop its shoulders. Gasping for air, the man landed roughly on his knees, a visible shroud of smoke wafting off his form.

Minato was no better.

The moment he released Chernobog back into the sea of souls, he swayed on his feet, his vision swimming. Everything hurt. Everything ached. The thought of moving alone made bile rise up in the back of his throat. The prolonged use of his powers, in addition to the number of personas he had to call upon, had taken its toll on his body and his mind.

"Good… recovery," Endeavor spat out, his features dour; it was as if the act of giving a compliment gave him heartburn. "Two left. Power through it."

Slowly, Endeavor tried to stand, the decorative flames adorning his costume flickering weakly. As he found his footing, the flames grew wilder. He blew out a breath, rasping, "Nothing… Nothing will stop me from reaching All Might—from becoming 'No. 1'! So find your reason, boy! Find your conviction! Show me that you want to end this! Show me that spirit once more!"

Minato clenched his eyes shut and weakly held out a hand at Endeavor. "Migraine. Please… Stop shouting."

Endeavor's lips curled back. "What—"


0.0


"—the hell?"

Not for the first time tonight, Takeyama Yu was at odds with herself. Primarily, her brain couldn't comprehend what exactly she was seeing.

Nestled in a small alley between two commercial buildings was… was something straight out of a horror movie. It was a nest of some kind, with its intricate maze of sinewy muscle-like webbings that clung to the walls of the surrounding buildings. At the centre of it, elevated from the ground, was a large grotesque cocoon—large enough to fit a person. It resembled a heart, save for—

Oh God, it just twitched!

"Seriously?!"

At Endeavor's behest, she had scoured the surrounding area for the elusive Nomu, and it was only by chance that she happened upon this nightmare fuel a few blocks away from the plaza. The streets of Hosu were eerily empty. Given the lack of anything substantial, it was hard to discount the possibility that it was, in fact, the Nomu in question.

Yu hung her head down, sighing. She had a job to do.

Therein lay the problem.

The cocoon was wedged deep inside the alley, just beyond her reach. Shrinking back down to size and entering such a confined space, especially given her Quirk, was like triggering a red flag; it was an ambush waiting to happen.

So, she improvised.

Even in her gigantified state, she was not above the minor inconvenience of digging out a hundred-yen coin from under the couch with a TV remote. Yu scanned her surroundings and spied the row of lamp posts lining the street.

Honestly, taking two wouldn't hurt anyone…

"Except my insurance." A rueful laugh died on her lips. "Haaah…"

Yu fashioned the two lamp posts as makeshift chopsticks and got to work shucking the webbings that held the cocoon in place. It was stringy and malleable—almost like an octopus tentacle. Yu did it slowly, careful not to jostle the cocoon too much.

She had to be cautious. Its capabilities were unknown to her. Bar Endeavor's vague warning not to let it come into contact with emitter-type Quirks, it was unclear how exactly the Nomu had caused the explosion earlier.

As it was, it started twitching again—stronger this time.

Yu could vaguely hear the sounds of dry heaving coming from within, then a series of muffled 'pops' as the webbings peeled its grip off the walls. There was a flurry of movement as it came undone all at once; Yu finally caught a hint of the body that laid within the cocoon. It was like a measuring tape snapping back into place, except the sinewy webbings furled back into the last place she would have imagined…

Its mouth.

"Oh God…" she gagged.

At least, she was sure it was the Nomu now…

The creature, living up to its description, had a long neck, which was protected by its helmet; the thick layers of steel widened into an inverted 'V' as it reached down to its collarbone. It was leaner than the other Nomus she had seen, with wiry muscles and longer limbs.

"O-Oi! Don't you run away from me!"

Yu tried to squeeze herself into the narrow alley as much as her body could allow, her makeshift chopsticks clacking up a storm as the Nomu skittered away on all fours—away from her and towards the other end of the alley. Thankfully, it was a dead-end. With a little more luck and patience, she could actually—

There was a low monotonous drone, then a small wisp of ethereal black energy appeared before the Nomu. It swirled larger and larger until it resembled a portal. A disembodied voice echoed through the dark fog:

"Dinner time."

The Nomu reacted to the verbal command like an obedient puppy, skittering through the fog before Yu could snap it up in her grasp.

She could hear her heartbeat pound in her ears.

"No, no, no!"

As a last-ditch effort, she chucked her makeshift chopsticks into the void. One went through, only partly, before the dark fog collapsed unto itself and sundered the lamp post cleanly down the middle.

It was over in seconds.

Yu laid there on her side and stared blankly into the alley—at nothing. "Fuck… Someone tell me that didn't just happen."

Someone did.

It wasn't hard to place the voice. After all, one of their first meetings had been under similar circumstances—in an alley not unlike this one. At least this time, she was in costume.

"Mount Lady," All Might called out from behind her; his voice was deep, sombre, laced with an undercurrent of tension that bled into his words. "What didn't just happen?"


0.0


Usagiyama Rumi should have been in her element.

Alone, with her heightened senses, she could zone in on her mark and suss out every excruciating detail—from the way their muscle tensed, to the slight shift in their footwork, and even how their eyes dilated. Everything was laid bare for her. When adrenaline coursed through her veins, with her very life hanging on the balance, Rumi felt unstoppable.

That was why people mistook her for a brain-dead reckless fighter; there wasn't a fight she was in where she came out unscatched. But they were wrong. For her to truly thrive, she had to reach a state of mind where 'flight or fight' instincts came in.

And every single time, she would go against her nature and fight.

When Rumi was younger, she hated her Quirk. Heteromorphic-type Quirks were often hereditary for a reason. It's not often talked about—the discrimination that mutants faced in modern Japanese society. That was a whole spiel that she refused to get into as she got older; no one was going to catch her being an advocate for change.

But growing up as a rabbit, a prey, in a literal sea of predators had changed her worldview early on. So many people were quick to dismiss her. There was probably an analogy in there somewhere about how the measure of one's Quirk affected one's standing in society. It was so obviously true, but the only ones crying about it were those who refused to do anything to change that fate for themselves.

She wasn't one of them.

Strength was strength. It was unequivocal. It was tangible. All Might didn't rise to the very top because he had a good catchphrase, and she didn't become who she was because she allowed her Quirk to define her being.

She wasn't a prey like so many others. She was a hunter.

And a hunter must hunt.

However, her mark was being stolen from right under her nose. Reinforcements had arrived in the form of Arisato and Endeavor. Little by little, Rumi could feel her senses start to dull, as her hyper-aware state of mind began to diminish. It wasn't entirely welcomed and she made that fact known to them:

"Ugh… Piss off! This one's mine! I already gave you the other one! I don't need your fucking help!"

Endeavor had rushed in ahead of her, thrusting himself forward at Tiny with fists aflamed. Arisato had stayed back, the teen himself looking a bit sickly, but she could tell that his attention was on her—he was eyeing her injuries again. When Arisato raised his hand up, she changed directions and practically threw herself at him, snarling.

His eyes widened in alarm.

"Fucking don't!" Rumi seethed, yanking him forward by the wrist forcefully. She had to crane her neck up to look at him. That, and the fact that his bokken was now poised at her throat; his grip on his weapon was weak though, that much she could tell.

Arisato was breathing deeply. "I was trying to help."

Rumi found herself doing the same as an invisible pressure seized her chest, her breaths coming out short but sharp. It was the crash after a high—or a nose-dive, in her case. She was aware just how tight her hold was over his wrist. Yet, for some reason, she still hadn't let go. The dysphoria lingered in her being.

Did she… Had she taken it too far?

"I know," she finally bit out. "But I don't need healing—not during a fucking battle. You'll just screw up my rhythm again."

This was why she hated being on a team…

They messed everything up.

"I see." Arisato pulled his weapon back, nodding. "I'll take note of that… for next time." He eyed his wrist pointedly. "Do you mind?"

Rumi smacked the back of his hand as she let him go. "Next time? Not if I have anything to do about it," she said. "You look dead on your feet, kid. Stay out of this fight."

"Kid?" he asked.

"Well, you're not a scrub. You've proven that at least." She turned away from him. "Just watch our backs. You can do that much, right?"

Rumi didn't wait for his reply. With nimble feet, she danced across the skeletal stalagmites in her way. The entire area was flooded with Tiny's quills; most were longer than her forearm, wider even, as it jutted out from the ground. They were more than just an inconvenience; one misstep meant having her feet skewered like a round of yakitori.

And she had some big ass feet...

Rumi joined Endeavor at the fore. Credit where it was due, Endeavor stayed in pursuit of Tiny as he sent a successive volley of fire spears at the creature in retaliation to its barrage of quills. His attacks seemed… restrained, however. It didn't take a genius to see that he was struggling—there was a rigidness in the way he moved that made it seem like he was running on fumes alone.

Still, despite his bulk, Endeavor was surprisingly mobile. He couldn't quite keep up as Tiny boomeranged around the ruined plaza like a bouncy rubber ball, but the fact that he wasn't a pincushion right now spoke volumes of his ability.

That was another reason why it had been such a prolonged engagement. Tiny was fast, faster than her even, and its movements were just as unpredictable. The few times she could actually get a lick in only resulted in a glancing blow, and the creature was actually pretty durable despite its stature. As it stood, Tiny had dished out more than it took, and that didn't sit right by her.

She needed to be the one to end it. And if she had to do it by playing nice, then…

Fuck it.

"Oi!" Rumi shouted at Endeavor. "If you two wanna cut in on the action, you better make it worth my while!" She brought her thumb up and jerked it down, grinning. "Set me up for a spike!"

Because that squat little bastard looked mad kickable…

Endeavor didn't take his eyes off Tiny, but she knew he heard her because of the scowl on his face. He kept his voice low, "Box the Nomu in, and… and buy the boy time." That last line was forced out through gritted teeth.

"Whatever," Rumi said. "Be careful with that fire of yours from the backline, 'No. 2'. I'll stomp your face in if you burn my hair."

His eyes twitched. "If I had to hold my breath and count up to yours, I'd—"

"Like I give a shit!" she told him, laughing.

Rumi tagged him out and rounded on Tiny with a sweep of her leg. She missed by a hair's breadth, but used the momentum to pivot on her heel and deliver a roundhouse kick that grazed the edges of its armour—it did nothing more than push Tiny forward into its roll.

She almost got a faceful of quills for her efforts—almost, being the key word. Her muscle memory had adapted to Tiny's movements after being in 'survival mode' for the duration of their fight. While the boon was largely temporary, she had a good measure of its attacks. Rumi ducked beneath the unyielding salvo, keeping her body low to the ground as the quills trailed in the wake of her strides.

Tiny bounded away, using the crags and debris that littered the ruined plaza to change directions. It soared over the expanse of skeletal stalagmites, but Endeavor was on hand with the follow-up:

"Watch your feet!"

A crisp fiery 'whoosh' perked her ears. Instinctively, Rumi did her best impression of a hurdler as an arc of fire sliced through the air below her knees—at the stalagmites right under its path. Endeavor's attack sundered the field completely, giving Rumi the space and foothold she needed to leap at the still airborne Nomu.

What she didn't expect was for a wall of ice to materialise from the ground up, blocking off Tiny's progress. Tiny bounced off the wall, the impact shattering the surface like glass, and fell right within her reach—but it was too close. Without the necessary backlift, she wouldn't be able to fully let loose.

She could have another pop at it, right? After all, they had the power of teamwork and shit…

Rumi grinned savagely. "Not yet!"

She adjusted her body in mid-air, winding up her leg slightly, and volleyed the armoured ball forward. She didn't put much power behind the kick, and while her form wasn't the best, her shot still found its mark—at the ruined slab of concrete that had once been a picturesque mural for the plaza. There was enough force behind her volley for Tiny to rebound back to them, and with the creature robbed of its agency, they finally had the upper hand.

Tracking it as she doubled back, Rumi raised a hand up quickly. "Higher! Higher! I wanna spike it!"

"You infur—This isn't a game!"

"Game-winning point, Endeavor! Now or never!"

As Tiny sailed through the air, helpless as its momentum carried it forward, Endeavor barked out an enraged roar. The man thrust a fiery fist at the air in front of him, and her vision was eclipsed by a gigantic blast of hellfire that engulfed Tiny whole. It was loud. It was egregious. However, Endeavor's attack was a flash in a pan. Just as quickly as the blast ignited into life, it died down. The Nomu emerged from the other end, spinning even faster, its sleek metallic armour glowing a soft orange.

There was a crackling 'hiss' as Tiny was suddenly coated in a thick layer of permafrost. It quickly melted away, the red hot steel cooling upon contact with the freezing ice, but it was enough. Rumi could see the cracks in its armour—quite literally now.

Tiny slowed just a fraction, but continued at its arc unabated.

"Wall it! Wall it!" Rumi yelled.

Another block of ice rose up from the ground, but it took time to materialise. The wall was shorter, sturdier, and more importantly, slanted at an angle that would push Tiny up into the air—it was genuinely the perfect set.

As the best goddamn kick volleyball player in Tamako All Girls' Middle School, Rumi didn't need an invitation to do what she did best.

"Just end it already!" Endeavor bellowed, hoarse.

Rumi had already taken to the air, adjacent but just above Tiny's defenceless form. She allowed her body to relax as gravity took hold at the height of her jump, flipping her head over heels, and followed through the motions as her muscle memory did the rest.

A familiar surge in strength welled up in her being as Rumi realised that she was glowing yet again; she didn't have the heart to shit on Arisato this time. The power was… exhilarating. When her foot found purchase at the centre of its mass, she couldn't help the grin that split across her lips.

"Luna Fall, bitch."

The monstrous strength behind her attack compressed the very air beneath her, sending a cavalcade of shockwaves that ringed around the creature as it crashed into the earth—like a meteor burning up upon re-entry. The impact finally caught up to her ears as the ground quaked and split apart, sending dust and debris into the air.

Landing nimbly, Rumi hopped away from the epicentre and emerged from the cloud of dust that was still settling. She didn't have to look. Tiny would have been in the centre of it all, lying in a crater of its own making—dead.

Surprisingly, she found herself right next to Arisato, who was covered in a thin layer of grime, coughing. He gave her a blank look.

"Whad'ya want?" she asked. "A medal?"

"A thank you would be nice."

Rumi breezed past him. "Well, don't hold your breath, kid. You'll wind up like Endea—"

Her ears twitched. There was a low monotonous drone which preceded the appearance of a spiralling black fog hovering in the air above them. Beyond it, the contemptible patter of slow claps started to fill the silence, until a face emerged through the void—or half of one, to be accurate.

A dismembered hand was covering the lower-half of the man's face.

"Well done, brave heroes… I can tell when I'm beat," he said. "But don't mind me though. I'm just waiting for a friend of mine."

Another face emerged this time, a terrified woman. His hand was wrapped around her neck in a firm grip—with his pinky held away from the rest of his fingers.

"Has anyone seen—"

A sudden gust of wind picked up around her, whipping her hair into a frenzy. In that split-second when Rumi tore her eyes away, she could sense a large presence arriving. She wasn't surprised to find the 'No. 1' Pro Hero in all of Japan standing tall in front of her—his broad back enveloping her view.

"All Might, All Might, All Might… How about we play one last game for the man that's always late to party?" He tittered happily. "I call it 'Allor None'."

Rumi had to suppress a shiver that crept up her spine. Symbol of Peace, her ass. All Might was trembling in barely-concealed rage. If looks could kill, the villain would be dead thrice-over.

"Shigaraki!"

Shigaraki seemed nonplussed. "Who's the fastest one here? Apart from All Might?" he asked. "This next one is a time-attack stage; gotta run around and gather all the collectibles in the city. Sounds simple enough, right?"

Rumi pursed her lips and stepped forward.

"How long do I have?"


0.0


Takeyama Yu wasn't the fastest; even if her Quirk allowed her to traverse distances in one big stride, she was still limited by how fast she could actually run. That was why when All Might did that All Might thing where he just up and disappeared as fast as he did appear, Yu put two and two together and realised that something was probably hinky back with the others.

It didn't take her more than a minute or two to reach the ruined plaza thereafter.

The mood was… tense; a hostage situation wasn't exactly common during a disaster, much less one like this. Suspended in the air above the assembled heroes, parallel to the ground and at almost half her height, was the same spiralling mass that had stolen away the Nomu she had been tasked to subdue. Only this time, the freaky villain she had seen in the earlier broadcast poked his head out of the fog, and right beside him was the lead anchor from Fuji-Q News, Kadokawa Rina.

When Yu made her approach, Endeavor waved her away without turning his head. She silently obeyed, but stayed nearby, within hearing distance.

She spied Endeavor and All Might at the fore, with Minato hanging back, off to the side; Rumi's absence in all of this was conspicuous, as were the Nomus they had been fighting earlier—only the aftermath of the battles remained but not their bodies.

Unconsciously, her eyes lingered on Minato.

His gaze was steely, resolute, as he stared down the villain going about his monologue. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He was okay—a little beat up, looking dead on his feet, but he was alive with all four of his limbs perfectly intact.

That was the best she could have hoped for…

"You always thought you could save everyone, didn't you All Might? Failure must be so… crushing." The shaggy-haired man leaned in close to his captive, and stage-whispered, "Tell him, Rina-chan. Tell him how bad it'll be if he fails this time."

The woman, once the very picture of poise and posture, was heaving laboriously as she cried. "H-He killed S-Shigeo and… and Ma-Masao-san. H-He's a goddamn maniac! H-Help me… Please. I don't want to die," she continued in a low murmur, eyes distant. "I don't want to die… IdontwanttodieIdontwannadie…"

"Now, tell her it will be okay, All Might." His other hand emerged from the fog, cupping Rina tightly by her chin and squeezing her cheeks over her mouth. He punctuated his words with a glare, "Smile and tell her to have no fear. Tell her everything will be all right now because you're here. I want you to lie to her, All Might—lie right to her face."

All Might had his head bowed, his features shadowed. "Stop this, Shigaraki. This woman is innocent in all this. She does not deserve your ire."

"I said tell her!" he roared, petulant.

Jolting, Yu bit the inside of her cheek, hard. Her hands were shaking so much—out of a combination of anger, fear, and nerves all melding together. She'd never wanted to hurt another person so badly until now…

All Might was quiet, but when he looked up, a wide easy smile was plastered on his face. "Never fear, Kadokawa-san—for I am here."

The villain, Shigaraki, laughed incredulously. "What the hell was that?" He shook his captive. "Did that seem sincere to you, Rina-chan? Would you trust the words of a man like that? Much less the Symbol of Peace?"

"N-No," Rina choked out.

"Speak up! You were a lead anchor, for fuck's sake."

"No!"

He squeezed her neck tightly, and the woman visibly struggled against him. "Then, would you trust a despicable villain like me when I tell you that I could kill you right here? Right now? All I have to do is press my little pinky on your—"

"That's against the rules of your game, Shigaraki," Endeavor cut in. "By my watch, Mirko still has a minute left to return with all the bodies."

"It isn't a game," Minato said softly, "if you don't stick to the rules."

"Suddenly all of you are fucking gamers now?" Shigaraki sneered and relaxed his hold. "I didn't ask for your opinion, stupid NPCs… Time's still ticking away. The rabbit woman could still—"

Yu caught movement out of the corner of her eyes.

With a dull 'thud', Rumi landed heavily before them, hauling several large refuse bags in both hands and the mangled corpse of the winged Nomu she had defeated over her shoulder. She threw both down on the ground before Shigaraki, her costume bloodied and mucked with streaks of viscera. Both their remains were quickly swallowed up by the spiralling fog and transported to parts unknown.

"Fuck you," she told him, breathless. "And you too." She spared Endeavor an annoyed look. "Did you really have to cut all these fuckers up into pieces?"

Rumi was ignored.

"That's all of them! We did as you asked!" All Might said, his voice booming. "Let Kadokawa-san go now, Shigaraki!"

Shigaraki seemed unsure, pulling his hand away from Rina's chin and scratching his neck roughly. "Wait… I didn't think this far ahead. All of you could still get the jump on me if I let her go just like that, you know."

"These are your rules, Shigaraki!" Endeavor bellowed.

"Shut up, 'No. 2'. I know what I said." He turned to look at Rina. "Oi, stick your legs through the gate."

"W-What?"

All around her, Yu could see muscles tensing, ready to act. She braced her legs, doing the same.

"Tsk, stop waiting time, Rina-chan."

Shigaraki wrenched her hand out from the void, gripping it by the wrist, a forefinger held away from the woman's skin. He forcibly pushed her out, until her body dangled over the four-storey drop, with only his grip on her wrist holding her aloft.

He was slowly retreating.

"How does it feel, All Might?" Shigaraki asked blithely. "Look around you! Even if you won, you still lost in the end."

Yu could see what Shigaraki was trying to do; the memory of the lamp post being sundered clean by the warp gate was still fresh on her mind. He pulled her up higher, freeing himself from the risk of being accidentally caught out. The dark fog spiralled, slowly narrowing over the top-half of her body. The threat was clear.

"Kadokawa!" Endeavor shouted, hoarse. "Make yourself small! Keep your arms tucked in, and compact your body the moment he lets—"

Over the din, Yu saw Shigaraki mouth the words: 'Close it'.

Like a dam of tension bursting, there was a flurry of motion and noise coming together all at once—flames, screams, wind, shouts. Before Yu could even put her foot down after taking her first step, she was buffeted by a biting whirlwind that stung her eyes, forcing her to blink. It died down just as quickly.

The next thing she saw was All Might, glowing in the white shroud of Minato's power, as he cradled Rina in his massive arms—alive and unharmed. The man was conversing with Rina in hushed tones, checking her over, his signature megawatt smile just a fraction too dim.

In the midst of it all, Shigaraki had escaped, the dark fog that hung above them vanishing without a trace; the only sign being a charred wall of concrete on the building just beyond it. Endeavor stood there like a statue, staring at that exact spot in disdain.

Yu breathed a silent sigh as she looked around.

Hosu was deathly still in a way that she couldn't describe; it was as if the entire city had been gutted and laid bare. Rumi had pretty much concluded that it was done. She was now walking away, towards the empty streets, with her hands clasped lazily behind her head.

In what felt like ages, Yu finally deactivated her Quirk, wincing as she took her first non-gigantified steps towards Minato. Minato had sunk to his knees, his eyes clenched shut, as he leaned onto his bokken for support.

They had done it. It was finally over, but the haunting words of Shigaraki echoed in her mind.

It was true.

They had won. Yet, they still lost.


Minor Arcana: Knight of Swords…


Side Note(s): NIL.


XI Extra (A): And so, Hachisuka Kuin pays the piper…


"No… No way, we're not having a sleepover. Get out of my room."

Hachisuka Kuin stared at the interloper on her bed and masked a sigh. She really had to set some ground rules with Toga on the etiquette for living with housemates; getting bombarded by the girl right after coming out of the bathroom wasn't exactly pleasant.

Again…

Toga slid down from her bed and planted herself on the floor of her room, miming a puddle of goo. At least this time, Toga wasn't using her Quirk to look like her; the effects of it had long since expired.

"Why not?" she whined. "I'm heartbroken right now."

"No, you're being an idiot."

Toga went unnaturally still, furrowing her brow in thought. "How hard do you think it'll be to sneak into Tartarus? Like for real?"

Kuin looked at her, askance. "Tartarus, the max-security prison for highly unstable and extremely dangerous villains? The one that's rumoured to be so deep underground that they named the individual bunkers after the 'Nine Circles of Hell'? That Tartarus?"

Toga huffed. "So bitchy…"

"And you're insane," Kuin shot back. "Stain isn't worth it. He's just some loner freak who gets off on killing Pro Heroes. Throw a stone out into the world and you'll hit someone just like him. You don't have to settle for the first one you see."

"Nuh-uh, he's special… He's dreamy. He's handsome. He's—"

"You heard the rumours, right? About him cutting off his own nose? Fuck, I've seen it… or I haven't seen it, more like. He looks like a deranged hobo."

"Self-mutilation is hot~~"

Despite herself, Kuin shivered. "I thought you'd be all over the new guy, you know the one with all the severed hands on him?"

"Ew, Handy?"

"Weren't you into the whole homeless vibe?"

Toga scrunched up her nose like something foul had assaulted her senses. "Don't like his voice… Kinda whiny and pitchy, especially when he laughs." She bent forward, leaning down to touch her toes. "Ughhh, I hate being cooped up inside like this. I wish I was in Hosu when it all went down; coulda done something for Stainy."

"Well, if what Giran said is true, Handy might actually be our new boss," Kuin said. She sat down on her bed and reached across to get her phone by the bedside table. There was one new notification; it was a video message from some random number. Absently, she clicked on it. "I guess you'll have to get used to his la—"

Her heart caught in her throat, and her grip on her phone tightened.

The video opened to a hallway; one she had walked countless times. A man passed through those familiar walls. She saw it all through his lens, the camera as shaky and uneven as his ragged breaths. He reached the small intersection and paused; to the left, a living-cum-dining area; to the right, a modest kitchen. He chose the left.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no…"

"Kuin, what's wrong?"

It captured his feet as he walked through the open arch, then stopped. Blood pooled under his shoes, cresting against the soles; she could see it seep into the crevices of the parquet flooring. The shot then panned up to capture an empty living room—blood-splattered walls, a half-eaten meal, upturned furniture, and the television still playing in the background.

Toga sidled next to her. Kuin could feel Toga's warm breath tickle her ear as the girl leaned over her shoulder. "Ah!" Toga exclaimed. "Is this some kinda gore vid? I love those! Which imageboard did you go to? I was a mod for the 'SlaughterHouse-Nine' IB before it got shut down."

Kuin was breathing deeply, almost mimicking the one behind the camera. She blinked back unshed tears, her tone hollow:

"Himiko… That's my house."

Toga went silent and leaned away. "Oh."

Slowly, the camera turned, capturing a set of shabby clothes, soaked to the bone and dyed red in dried blood. She finally saw the man, hooded in a frayed burlap sack with a noose tied around his neck. When he spoke, the stitched smile across his sack split open, revealing a set of unnaturally large teeth.

"T-The Shie Hassaikai d-does not t-tolerate failure," the man said, slurring his words. "I'll be wa-waiting…"

The video ended abruptly.

Kuin stared at the blank screen, frozen. She didn't blink, even as tears trailed down her cheeks and dotted the surface of her phone.

Her mother was…

She was…

There was so much blood.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

It was because of her—it was all because of her. The universe had evened the scales by taking away the only family Kuin had left. Now, she was well and truly alone in this world.

Shame and regret burned in the core of her being.

The first memory of her mother that came to mind wasn't an especially fond one. She remembered the arguments, the silent warring of wills. Their relationship had been strained ever since her father's suicide; the coward had taken the easy way out to atone for his sins. In the wake of Hachisuka Touma's disastrous unmasking as 'Proctor the Vigilante', Kuin and her mother had borne the brunt of the enmity and vitriol as their family was thrust into the public consciousness. She learned then, at the tender age of ten, just how ugly herd mentality could truly be.

Everything had changed then.

Kuin resented her mother more and more as the woman grew bitter and withdrawn. With no one else to blame for their circumstances, their anger was redirected inwards—at each other. It got worse as she grew older. She had, more than once, prayed for her mother to drop dead.

The irony was not lost on her.

She laughed, the humour absent in her voice. Her lungs burned, the ache spreading to her chest with each passing breath that escaped her lips.

The bed beneath her creaked as Toga hopped off. The girl had grabbed her by the wrist, tugging her right alongside as she bounced lightly on her feet. It drew Kuin out of her stupor, enough for that familiar vindictive rage to rear its ugly head again.

This time—at the only person willing to seek comfort in her presence.

Kuin pulled her arm back forcefully. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she hissed, her lips curling as she did. "Are you seriously that fucked up in the head?! T-That man… He was—"

Toga blinked. "Yeah, there was a lot of blood," she cut in airily. Even then, the girl was blushing, unable to hide her excitement. "Your family's prolly dead."

Kuin could only stare at her, distraught. All at once, her anger dissipated and a cold shiver ran down her spine. Lost as she was, she didn't stop Toga when the girl reached forward tentatively and smothered her in a hug.

"I know you're sad," Toga whispered into the crook of her neck. "But we're wasting time."

"W-What?"

Toga pulled back and grinned tightly. "Let's go kill the bastard!"