723This chapter is long, so I'd suggest you grab a snack
Dabi was a lot of things: a violent psychopath, a serial killer, hatred and pettiness incarnate, and annoyingly inquisitive at times, just to name a few. One thing he was not, however, was unwilling to give credit where credit was due, regardless of who it was for. The heroes exceeded his expectations for once.
"Well shit," Dabi chuckled, his feet kicked up on the desk of whatever Yakuza sap used to run the Shie Hassaikai as he watched the news coverage of the battle in Fukuoka. "They did it. They actually fucking killed him."
Dabi peered over to the corner of the office where the same armless Nomu that tracked him down some time ago stood as still as a statue and stared into space like the empty-headed dumbfuck it was.
"Hood was one of your strongest, too, right?" he quipped to the blank creature.
In his mind, he was willing his amusement through the Nomu to the doc like some kind of mental email. As much as he wouldn't have minded seeing the newly crowned No. 1 be torn to shreds by Hood, and as much as he would have loved to see Midoriya's head splattered on the pavement when he interrupted the show, the innate desire to needle the old, mad scientist about his creature literally going up in flames was too strong. Maybe he was pettier than he thought-
The painfully familiar sensation of a sudden liquid shooting up his throat kicked him out of his musings and toppled him from his seat, allowing black ooze to pour from his mouth and encase him like a porous cocoon. The world went dark for only a moment before he reemerged in the fluorescent glow of the lab, and then he was promptly deposited on the cold, hard concrete. His head shot up, and he locked eyes with the bald son of a bitch sitting pretty in his chair.
"I thought I fucking told you to warn me!" Dabi growled, blue flames blooming from his body as he got back to his feet and loomed over the unmoved doctor.
"That boy…" Garaki demanded in a tone exponentially more dangerous than Dabi was used to, and it momentarily stilled his fury. "He's the same one from Kamino, yes?"
Dabi nodded. "Shigaraki wanted to recruit him. All For One wanted his quirk. We know how that ended up."
Garaki simply nodded before spinning his chair back around to face his many screens to begin furiously typing. "Good. I'm putting a bounty on his head. 400M. Dead or alive, doesn't matter. I'll have him fashioned into our Lord's personal Nomu by the time of his awakening."
Dabi's eyes, meanwhile, had nearly shot out of his skull, and he had to manually reboot his blue-screening brain at the utterance of that amount. "F-four hundred million…"
"Yep."
"…That's a lot of money."
"It is."
Dabi was finally regaining his composure. "That will have every criminal in the country after him, active, retired, or otherwise."
"As well as every criminal overseas that's feeling froggy," Garaki confirmed. "Hell, I know of a group out in Tibet that will be salivating once they hear about this. They're self-professed freedom fighters, but they're really just terrorists for hire. Reliable guys, nonetheless."
Dabi just stared at the fuzzy gremlin for a painfully long moment. "…So, can I-"
"No, you can't collect the bounty," Garaki firmly denied. "You have other responsibilities to see to."
Dabi quirked an eyebrow. "Such as?"
"Pick the most competent of the rabble you've collected and get ready to see Gigantomachia," Garaki commanded, surprising Dabi as well as immediately putting him on guard.
"Why?" he drawled, dragging the "y" in a mixture of suspicion and nervousness.
"All the criminals that will come out of the woodwork to hunt down Midoriya will bring about confusion and chaos that we will use to our advantage," Garaki said, and then he looked back at Dabi with an unsettling gleam behind his goggles. "It's time to put your hair-brained prison break idea into motion, but you and your followers will need to level up."
Dabi, not for the first time in the last few months, wished he died on that mountain.
Anyone on the sidewalk or near their windows that looked up would see a fiery rainbow soaring across the vibrant, orange sky like a rogue rocket, garnishing the setting sun with even more luminous colors. Beacon's mind was anywhere but in the sky with him as he blasted through the air, however, slowly arching out of the sky in his descent until he touched down on the roof of an office building. The huff that escaped him carried with it over a week's worth of exhaustion. The battle with Hood took more out of him than he was prepared for, and he could thank Supernova for that, but that was simply the culmination of an already hectic, restless stretch.
Ever since the fight with Hawks, he'd been on the move. That initial night, he briefly considered heading to the Bakugos' since he knew for certain that they would let him rest there for as long as he needed, but he was also certain that their house would have been the first place the authorities checked after they kicked in the door of the old apartment, and he wasn't going to risk getting Auntie Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru involved with this. The Todoroki Estate also crossed his mind since Shoto told him that his sister moved in with their mom when she was discharged, but he was still a little wary of Endeavor, and he couldn't have been sure of what the disgraced Flame Hero would do in this situation.
So, he had to improvise and find a place to squat. The need for a place then became the need for several places when Madame President came out and declared him a top-priority villain. The new bounty on his head effectively sicced the vast majority of pros in the country on him, and that meant he couldn't stay in one place for too long and was probably better off sticking to the slums where many hero agencies deemed it less profitable to operate.
…Conversely, some of the heroes that did frequent those areas did so to get a piece of whatever action went on in the underbelly. That was how Izuku ended up getting jumped by Slugger, who was looking to capitalize on his newfound status and bring him in for the guaranteed boost to his career.
Perhaps six weeks with a wired jaw and another few weeks more for his sternum to heal would straighten him out, but Izuku wouldn't hold his breath.
Then, the surprise of Rumi publicly throwing her support behind him in front of the entire nation and Madame President herself changed the game. It was still too early to tell what sort of effect her decision would have on how other pro heroes proceeded regarding him, but the fact that he wasn't immediately swarmed by every duty-bound pro after the battle with Hood was a promising sign that not every pro was strictly loyal to the HPSC. It was equally likely, however, that they simply weren't going to risk fighting him and Mirko at the same time regardless of their combined exhaustion. Whatever the case, he knew that many pros were strictly loyal to the HPSC, and a particular few were identified in a text he received from an unknown number that he was confident belonged to Nezu.
His gaze absently trailed to the insulated compartment of his utility belt where his phone was stashed, and his mind reflexively wandered to the dozens of calls and texts within. Nezu. His mom. Ochako. Yui. Shoto. Rumi. Hell, there was even a profanity-laden text from Bakugo in there. The urge to whip out his phone and respond to each and every one of them to assure them all that he was safe and alive was more and more overwhelming with every passing day. He resisted, though. He wouldn't risk implicating anyone at UA as a potential co-conspirator or villain sympathizer. He was prepared for whatever lengths the Commission was going to go to tear him down, and he refused to allow them to drag anyone he cared about through the mud with him.
Rumi didn't count; she was tagging along for this ride whether he liked it or not.
A soft smile nearly formed at the thought, but it fell just as quickly. Rumi had his back, but the commission was playing hardball by bringing out the Paragons… though he wasn't terribly impressed so far. Still, there were seven others that he hadn't seen yet, and they'd be gunning for him soon enough. Alongside them were the likes of Airjet, Mr. Brave, X-Less, and all the others identified in the message that he'd hunt down before they had the chance to hunt him.
Coincidentally, the very man at the top of that list appeared on a big screen closer to street level, immediately snagging his full attention. Unable to clearly hear what was being said from that high up, he ignited in green flames before leaping from building to building on a steady descent until he landed on the roof of the much shorter building across from the screen. He crouched on the ledge of the building, rooting himself in place with a gaze as hard as stone.
On the screen was a sit-down interview with Yoroi Musha.
"-truly troubling times indeed."
"What a fascinating perspective, Musha. As a grizzled veteran, you've no doubt seen quite a lot in your tenure as a pro. I'd love to hear your thoughts on everything that's been going on with the HPSC and Izuku Midoriya, otherwise known as Beacon."
Izuku wasn't surprised to have been a topic of conversation, nor was he surprised that a Commission stooge would be asked about him specifically. The likelihood that this interview was part of a smear campaign against him was high, so he did his best to smother the smoldering blackness burgeoning within and paid very close attention. Yoroi Musha's overly weary sigh was making that very difficult, however.
"It's a tragic waste of such enormous potential. That boy had all the makings of a tremendous force for good, yet he let his selfish whims and unfortunate naivety guide his actions. The lad could very well have been the next All Might had he kept on the righteous path, but he chose to throw it all away, and now the fame he was destined for will instead be infamy as he's documented in the bowels of history among the likes of Destro and All For One. His mother does not deserve the shame he is so callously thrusting upon her."
Izuku's self-control had never been tested quite like this. The pitch-black bonfire was lit, and remaining as still as a statue was all he could do to keep the unbearable void beneath his skin at bay, but wisps of black smoke began wafting off of him nonetheless as the camera returned to the anchor interviewing Musha.
"You do have to wonder how Verdant is handling all of this."
"She has a warrior's spirit; she will persevere. She was my intern once upon a time, you know. I'd like to think I've left my mark and imparted all of what I know to her, which is why she was such a force to be reckoned with. It is truly unfortunate that we never got to team up once she went pro."
Left his mark.
Left his mark.
Left his mark left his mark left his mark left his mark left his mark left his mark left his mark left his mark left his mark l̴̬̲̑e̶͔̠̖͂f̶̧̫͘t̴̗̱̓͗̕͜ ̶͈̮̎ḧ̸̨́̂̃î̵͙s̷͉̝̬̄̈́́ ̶̭̲̐̃m̸͈̀͊̒à̵̱͙̆͝r̴͉̘̥͠ḱ̶̛̘͈͈
Ḵ̷̀͘̕͝I̷͖̰͔̓͗̈̕L̶̨̹̟̫͖̭͓̽̈͋̾̈́Ḻ̵̰͓̰̳́̃͊͛͜͝ ̷̧̾̈͗Ḧ̴̰͉͚͚̺͉́̂͜Ỉ̸̠̰̝̻̈́ͅM̷̛̳̰̥̼̟̬͎̈́͌̿̿͝
Izuku erupted, becoming a vantablack specter. His mind was no longer on any narratives, Paragons, or the Commission. His mind was nowhere at all, really. The only thing firing through his neurons was expeditiously reducing Yoroi Musha to nonexistence-
His eyes darted to the left as a lion made of sand pounced from the edge of the roof, and the sandy feline's charge was very violently halted by a wall of jet-black flames, keeping it at bay to reveal the Sand Hero: Snatch standing on the roof and fixing him with a vacillating glare.
"Izuku Midoriya!" Snatch attempted to address him with authority, but his tone was obviously strangled. "Stand down, please!"
Izuku didn't flinch, his gaze remaining on the pro's wary approach. He did not move a muscle, not even to turn his head to meet Snatch's gaze directly, but whatever glimpse Snatch was getting of his eyes was more than sufficient at making him hesitate with every step.
Then, Snatch sighed, and the conflict in his soul was laid bare for Izuku to behold. "For whatever it's worth, I don't want to do this. I don't think you're a bad kid, but I have a family to feed. So, please, come quietly."
An eternity of a moment passed before Izuku finally craned his head to regard him fully, though his mouth remained shut. He still didn't move from his spot, though, and he watched Snatch's resolve harden in real-time.
"Then you leave me no choice," Snatch dolorously muttered, then he brought both arms up to form two more sand lions and fired them at him.
The end result was the same, however; both lions were swiftly battered and consumed by the emergence of even more black fire, and the roof was well on its way to becoming an unbearable hellscape for any normal man. Still, Snatch persisted, powering through the ungodly heat and readying yet another advance. Unfortunately for him, Izuku was done with this, and the simple narrowing of Izuku's glare was all the warning Snatch received to form a domed shield of sand in front of him to protect from the lightning-fast wave of black fire that rocketed at him.
What Snatch wasn't expecting was the wave of fire splitting down the middle and veering to either side of the shield, missing Snatch entirely. Then, the sea of black fire that was engulfing the roof was snuffed out in an instant, almost as if the hand of God smothered the proverbial candle. The tensest beat of silence Snatch had ever experienced followed before he hesitantly brought down the shield, only to find that Izuku was gone.
"Today, you people are no longer maggots," Geten announced to the newest platoon of freshly trained recruits standing at attention before him. "Today, you are Liberation Warriors. You are part of a kinship. From now on, until the day you die, wherever you are, every Liberation Warrior is your brother or sister. Most of you will take part in our inevitable strike on Japan. Many of you will not come back. But always remember this: Liberation Warriors die. That's what we're here for. But Destro's words live forever. The Meta Liberation Army lives forever, and that means you live forever."
Off to the side a good distance away, the "graduation" of sorts was watched by two chatting redheads and a maroon mummy. With Slice and Mummy having long since abandoned civilian life to become villains full-time, Kusari saw fit to bring them on to assist him and Geten with whipping their fighting force into shape, and whip they have. Training recruits in the use of their meta abilities was already as brutal as it was efficient, but with the additions of those two, the fruits born could have filled an entire orchard. Kusari could say he had never personally seen another group of recruits more proficient and deadly with their meta abilities than this one.
"Y'know," Slice hummed, drawing Kusari's eye as Geten continued his speech, "it still blows my mind that someone as soft-spoken as Geten can project his voice like this."
"He's a very competent drill instructor when needed," Kusari replied, his trademark lazy gaze meandering back toward Geten before it ever so slightly sharpened. "It also helps that the… recent developments have lit a fire under him."
The meaning of his statement wasn't lost on them, and while Mummy was content to remain silent as he was wont to do, Slice eyed Kusari carefully and folded her arms. "You're not really a fan of the new administration around here, are you?"
"There's no new administration," Kusari plainly dismissed. "Our Grand Commander is still in charge."
"Yeah, but the vibe is different now, isn't it?" she continued, lightly trailing a clawed finger across her chin. "I haven't been around for that long, and even I can tell that a lot of people around here are wary about the new additions to the upper echelon."
Kusari did not break his gaze from Geten speaking to the troops who were standing proud in the training ground. "It's understandable. Many lost comrades, friends, and even loved ones in the battle. Fukkō's integration into our forces was… unorthodox."
"Tell me about it," Slice snorted, her gloved hand sliding over her formerly bruised cheek.
"Many don't like the way they waltzed into a position of leadership that they feel wasn't deserved, much less earned," he continued. "To them, Fukkō are outsiders that don't truly believe in the will of Destro at best, and at worst, they're hostile invaders that will be our inevitable destruction."
"And what do you believe?" Slice questioned.
"What I believe is irrelevant," he replied. "Re-Destro's words are Destro's words. His will is absolute."
The stare he received from Slice was flatter than their shadows under the evening sun, and Kusari couldn't help but meet her glare in his periphery with a smirk at her growing irritation. "All of that said, with every duality, the truth usually lies somewhere in the middle."
"So, you're wary of them, too, huh?" Slice asked,
"The loss of Trumpet is still a fresh wound for many," Kusari noncommittally answered. "Their case isn't helped by their behavior since they got here either. They're a tight-knit band; you'll rarely catch one of them without another one nearby, but that's only if you see them at all because they mostly keep to themselves."
He continued impassively gazing at the training field as Geten hoisted everyone into the air on large chunks of ice in celebration. "If interactions with Skeptic are to go by, they're really protective of each other, too. They're like a furry Toretto Family."
When more silence was all he was met with, he finally brought his eyes away from the platoon to find that Slice was gawking at him with no shortage of incredulity. Hell, even Mummy was side-eying him.
"What?" Kusari asked in confusion.
"…Did you seriously just make a Fast and Furious joke?" Slice balked at the thought.
Kusari simply arched a crimson eyebrow at her. "What does it say about you that you picked up on it?"
Slice opened her mouth to retort, but nothing but hot, flustered air came out as she floundered for a counter that wouldn't come. Kusari simply smirked in victory, and then a buzz from his phone brought his attention down to the notification he received. Opening it, the boredom that characterized his violet gaze faded away in an instant, and his eyes were as sharp as ever.
"Hello…" he muttered in intrigue.
"What?" Slice asked, and he turned his phone so that she and an equally curious Mummy could see. A single look was all it took for Mummy to gawk beneath his bandages and for Slice to let loose a whistle.
"Woah…" Mummy murmured.
"Now that's a lot of money," Slice said, yen signs appearing in her eyes before she looked back up at Kusari. "Can we?"
"…I think I need to run this by the Grand Commander," Kusari answered, immediately scrolling to Re-Destro's contact.
"-leaving the famous, bearded cartoon creator incarcerated in a Peruvian jail. In other news, the general public is still in a frenzy after the shocking revelations brought to light by Gentle Criminal and the League of Anti-Villains. Claims of corruption, assassinations, and even corporate espionage were just a few of the many allegations rained upon the Hero Public Safety Commission, and the claims in particular regarding our MIA Winged Hero: Hawks and the former Lady Nagant, Kaina Tsutsumi, left many shocked, appalled, and most of all, enraged-"
Togeike changed the channel with an annoyed grumble. "It's always the news, isn't it…"
"I was interested in that," Shinso lazily muttered beside her on the common room couch.
"I doubt you haven't already been keeping up to date with it all," Togeike rolled her eyes.
Shinso shrugged, not arguing that point. "Still, it affects my future career. The HPSC getting in hot water is big, and it's bound to affect how UA does things going forward, especially with the circus around Midoriya."
His petulantly sour tone towards the end with the mention of Midoriya aside, she had to concede that he wasn't wrong. Regardless of how much the perpetual negativity of the 24-hour news cycle drained her, these particular events were admittedly important for his future. With a hum, she acquiesced and handed him the remote, and he graciously took it, flipping the channel ahead to another news station.
"-internet is still abuzz after the maelstrom that's been these past few weeks. The center of it all, Japan's newest vigilante: Beacon."
Togeike snorted at the sound of Shinso's disgruntled grunt as she pulled out her phone and hopped onto social media. Predictably, the discourse surrounding Gentle Criminal's video dominated her feed, but right behind it on the trending tab were Beacon, Rainbow Dash, and #VeryBreakable.
Endeavor_is_a_bottom: what a fucking dork lmao
FutureVision420: Serves him right for speaking as if he was of the same rarified air as All Might.
eyeseeyou: I've never seen someone talk so much shit just to get one-shot by a dude in a scarf. Unbreakable my ass #handlewithcare
BurninAgencyOfficial: that paragon seems like a little bitch idk -Liked by BurninOfficial
TheFlameHero: BurninAgencyOfficial Get off the agency's account, Shoto.
Endeavor_is_a_bottom: TheFlameHero They hired a crisis management team to clean up the fact that you beat on your queen
Togeike bit her tongue and clamped her mouth shut. That wasn't a topic to laugh about, not one bit, so she mercifully put her phone back and refocused her attention on the news broadcast.
"Though not all is sunshine and fiery rainbows for the teenage vigilante. Beyond the glowing adoration from his most vocal supporters and dissidents of the HPSC, many do not harbor as favorable of opinions about him and the actions he's taking against the government. Our field reporter, Masako Tatsutama, ventured to the hero program of a lesser-known but just as respectable institution, Yodomi High School, and many of the students there held the position that not all that glittered was, in fact, gold."
"I get why he was angry, and the Commission definitely overstepped, but there were better ways to go about the situation. Vigilantism is just well-intentioned villainy."
Togeike quirked a thoroughly unimpressed eyebrow at the "both sides" argument from the girl on screen, her platinum blonde hair in a very, very long braid that she had wrapped around her neck like a makeshift scarf.
Then, a boy with the head of an eagle and a piercing glare to match was next up. "He killed Hawks. I don't care what anyone says, he's a lowlife villain, and if that bounty isn't claimed by the time I graduate, you'd best believe I'm gonna be the one to bring him in."
Togeike didn't bother fighting back the snort at that declaration. She doubted he'd have any luck with that whatsoever (and she didn't wish him luck in the slightest), but the question of what exactly happened to Hawks after their confrontation remained in her mind. However, it was forcibly shoved to the back burner by a kid with absurdly long fingers and a manic expression appearing on screen.
"His hair? Wack! His gear? Wack! His scarf? Wack! His quirk? Wack! The way that he talks? Wack! The way that he steals super moves? Wack!"
The kid then thumbed to himself, punctuating it by extending his thumb until it was practically jabbing his wide-open eye. "Me? I'm tight as fu-!"
"That's enough of that," Shinso muttered as he finally changed the channel.
Togeike's snorts returned, and they very quickly bloomed into outright laughter. "Guess even you have your limits for Midoriya hate, huh?"
Shinso grunted. "I may not like him all that much, but I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing in his position. Had someone been after you or Agoyamato, I'm telling them to take a long walk off a cliff with my quirk."
"Aw, I love you too, buddy," Togeike said with a playful jab to his shoulder. "Seriously, though, that's pretty mature of you. You always look like you swallowed a lemon any time he's ever mentioned."
He groaned, slumping a little further into the couch than he already was. "Yeah, well, it's not just about him. You won't see me singing the HPSC's highest praises either. Pro heroes basically get commission pay, no pun intended. The more crimes you stop, the more often you're paid. Sounds reasonable enough until you factor in popularity; the bigger the name, the better the payout. Simple logic would then dictate that the flashier the catch, the more your name gets out there, ultimately leading to bigger payouts. It's a system that actively incentivizes glory hounds, hence underground heroes get paid like shit because being well-known ultimately defeats the purpose."
"I… wow," Togeike muttered as she took all of that in. "I hadn't considered any of that. Honestly, I don't think I've ever put too much thought into how pro heroes got paid. They kinda just occupy the same territory as celebrities in my mind."
"Most aspiring heroes don't either until they're finally in the thick of it, then they have uncomfortable decisions to make," Shinso sighed. "At least that's what Eraserhead says."
Nodding in understanding, she bit her cheek at the mention of Eraserhead. Shinso's training with him (and, consequently, her quirk counseling with them) had been paused until things settled down, and she knew he was feeling a little bitter about it.
"Did Eraserhead ever give you any hints as to how long your training would be put on hold?" she asked.
"No," Shinso sighed. "He can't say for certain either. Silver lining is that I get to rest my body, but I felt I was making really good progress."
The hand she placed on his shoulder was gentler this time, and her expression poured with understanding and support. This whole ordeal had to have been beyond frustrating for Shinso. To her understanding, there was at least one open seat in the hero course, and he was working really hard to be the one to fill it, but he certainly wasn't the only one. A halt to his training was just time wasted for him.
On the other hand, she also couldn't blame Eraserhead, Principal Nezu, or Midoriya for any of that. No one told Hawks to walk his ass onto campus to crash their only bit of normalcy this year and demand a seven-year-old girl be placed into custody. She could feel the decorative cactus one of their classmates placed in the common room twist to face her just at the thought alone. Fuck Hawks and the Commission for that, for real.
Still, the earlier question of whatever the hell even happened to Hawks lingered. The fight presumably took place on school grounds, otherwise there would have been a video of it happening where the public could see, so if there was a body, it would've been confirmed and recovered by now. The fact that he just up and vanished afterward left all sorts of questions that none of the staff would answer. She didn't think UA would cover up Hawks's murder if it happened, but…
It was best not to think about that.
She was on his trail, she just knew it. She'd been tracking every sighting of him, and the savagely beaten pro heroes that were popping up along the way served as fantastic markers to help her formulate a solid map of his actions. In fact, once she checked if the coast was clear in the alley she had ducked into, she hastily pulled out and unfolded an old, faded map of Japan. Crossed out in bold, red marker were Shizuoka and Musutafu since he wouldn't be going back there any time soon. Tokyo was next, as he made a show of attacking the HPSC headquarters using another hero as a weapon. Tokyo was circled just in case he eventually found his way back there.
Trailing off from there, there were sightings in Yokohama, Nagoya, Osaka, and Hiroshima, often with another brutalized pro hero or two along the way. Then, he reappeared again in Fukuoka, and she circled it for being special because he was fully caught on camera fighting that Nomu with Mirko, leaving no ambiguity that he was there. Then, he knocked out that other guy and left, but he definitely didn't go very far because the black fire in Kitakyushu had to be him. There was no other possibility.
This was where things became tricky. Kitakyushu was a complete U-turn from his westward travel to Fukuoka, and now he had anywhere in the entire country to head to next. So, to predict where he might be headed next, she had to dig a little bit and figure out what happened in Kitakyushu, and researching into stupid heroes and stupid, hero-obsessed civies wasn't cute, but she'd do whatever it took to find him. The official report from that sandy guy was that he confronted Izuku on a roof, but he flared his fire and left. That didn't give her much to work with, so she tried searching for clues in online chatter about the situation, and a few people who claimed to be in the area said that they were watching an interview with some really old dude before an ungodly heat blasted from the roof of an office building across the street.
That was an odd correlation, but she'd take any lead she could get.
So, here's what she knew: Izuku was now headed east from Fukuoka. He can be placed at the scene of the broadcast of an interview with the old hero, Yoroi Musha, and something made him really mad. Izuku was already on a warpath against certain heroes, so if Yoroi Musha made him so mad, he was probably next. Now, she just needed to know where the old fart patrolled. Pulling out a phone she had stolen, she frantically typed Yoroi Musha's name into the search bar to find where his agency was located…
"Kanazawa," she read, her face splitting into a fanged grin. Three trains to sneak on to, and she could be there in less than six hours. Beautiful!
Uncapping her red marker, she excitedly circled Kanazawa before refolding the map and stuffing it back into her sweater. She was so close to finding him that she could practically taste it. She didn't know what she'd do when she finally had him in her grasp, but her heart swelled and her blood tingled at the possibilities.
Slinking through the window of the husk of a store that once existed, Izuku wearily sighed as he emerged in the darkness of his hideout, or rather one of his many hideouts peppered around the country for every city he's ventured to. Staying out of sight after the scene he potentially caused in the days prior was likely for the best, even if only for his own sake. So, naturally, he went on patrol anyway because the last thing he needed was to be alone with his thoughts. Being on the move killed two birds with one stone-
An angry rumble of his stomach accompanied by a stabbing pang made him wince while completely derailing his train of thought. "Oh brother…"
Right, food. He hadn't been eating much. No time; patrolling was more important. Helping those in need and staying ahead of the Commission was paramount. This can't all be for nothing, and he wouldn't allow it to be.
"You need to win in the court of public opinion if you want a real shot at this, Midoriya, even if you have to martyr yourself to do it."
And he would. To that end, he needed to know what was being said about him as well as the Commission. He was no good to anyone if he wasn't staying abreast of what was happening surrounding the current situation, and he heard chatter about a UA press conference spattered among the more frequent discussions of Gentle Criminal's video. He needed to sit down and watch that one, too, but he heard that it was rather long, so he elected to check out what UA had to say first.
Stepping over to and plopping down on the dingey mattress he set up in the middle of the store, turned on the gas lamp beside him and reached into his utility belt for his phone, only to lock eyes with a feline pair glowing a dull yellow within the darkness of his shadow. They just stared at each other, the silence growing ever thicker as the feline eyes meticulously scanned him over, and he was helpless to do anything about it beyond awkwardly staring back at her.
Eventually, the prolonged silence had dragged on for long enough, and Izuku swallowed before forcing himself to address. "Erm, hey, Vanta..."
Vanta did not reply, only maintaining her blank yet hauntingly wide-eyed stare. Izuku absently scratched the back of his head as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.
"Ah, you're probably upset about my ghosting you, huh…" Izuku hazarded a guess, but Vanta surprisingly shook her head.
"I'm not upset about that," she said in too blank of a tone for his comfort. "Remember, I've been exactly where you've been- well, maybe not exactly, but I abandoned what was left of my life for a vigilante crusade, too."
"I… fair," Izuku conceded, the tension in his body still present. "But you are upset about something."
Rather than respond verbally, Vanta slowly rose from the darkness like a wraith, not breaking eye contact with him for a moment. Once she was fully out of the shadow and in the room with him, she sat down in front of him, and her gaze resumed giving him a once-over. With her now exposed, Izuku observed that she looked exactly how he remembered her from the provisional license exam, only she had a black backpack on to match the rest of her black ensemble.
"I'm… conflicted," she finally answered. "I'm not upset about you ghosting me, but I did come to deck you for ghosting Ochako."
Izuku grimaced, and then his expression grew firm. "I have my reasons."
"And I get it," Vanta sighed. "She does, too. You're a fugitive, and that would be a bad look. Still, she's worried sick."
Izuku sighed this time, his compassion fighting a bloody battle with his concoction before one side eventually came out the victor, and he fixed Vanta with a hard, resolute look. "And I'm sure she isn't the only one, but I have to do this. You can't stop me."
Vanta just solemnly nodded in understanding before attempting to put him at ease. "I'm not here to do that."
Despite himself, Izuku accepted that response and let some of the tension in his body ease away. "Why are you here, then? Y'know, besides to punch me."
"A few reasons, actually," Vanta hummed, reaching her hand up to lightly press it to his cheek. "For one, what have you been eating?"
She paused, and then her already slitted pupils thinned even further. "…Have you been eating?"
Izuku weighed his options. Telling her the truth would almost certainly be the wrong answer. However, he doubted he could convincingly lie to her, so that was also the wrong answer. Left with no other options, Izuku simply remained silent.
That was probably the worst answer he could have given if the barely restrained pandemonium lying under the surface of Vanta's glare was anything to go by.
"You're lucky I don't punch starving kids anymore," she grumbled before she unzipped her bag and pulled out a bento. "Here."
The sight of the bento surprised him enough that he didn't even fight it when she stuffed it in his grasp. "Wait, what?"
"We made you some bentos," Vanta answered, revealing several more trays of food from her bag and placing them beside the mattress.
"We?" Izuku questioned.
Vanta smiled. "Yeah, we. The guys at the VRP knew I could find you whenever I wanted, so they all wanted to make sure you were okay. A few of us know what it's like to be on the run. We all have your back 100%."
Then, she opened the bento in his hands and stabbed a pair of chopsticks into the fried pork cutlet on top. "Now, quit your goddamn stalling and eat, dummy. I can tell that you're running on fumes, and I know that you'll keep going despite it. You're not burning out on my watch, Izuku."
Izuku stared blankly at the food, the beginnings of another war brewing in his mind. The war, ultimately, never got a chance to kick off, as Izuku threw caution to the wind and dug into the bento with reckless abandon. It wasn't his mom's bribery katsudon, but he was not going to complain. He physically couldn't, not while he was inhaling the food they all went out of their way to make for him themselves just to make sure he was eating on his mission. Here Vanta was actively supporting and encouraging him to continue fighting, only making sure that he was at his best when doing so.
Izuku wasn't sure when he finished the bento, but it must've been very quickly after she opened it if her amused and smug smirk was any indication. He couldn't find it within himself to deny her the satisfaction.
"Thank you, Vanta," he earnestly said, and her smirk became a warm smile.
"Of course," she replied, and then she motioned to the other bentos. "You can keep eating if you want; it'll probably soften the blow for the other reason I'm here."
And just like that, the jovial atmosphere was gone, and Izuku was back to business. "What's up?"
She shifted in her spot. "There's a really fat bounty on your head right now."
Izuku snorted. "What else is new?"
"Not from the Commission," she clarified, and she had Izuku's attention. "It's from the underworld. One of the guys heard a few things from an old associate he shouldn't be talking to anymore. Someone really wants you dead, Izuku, and they're offering big bucks for it."
Izuku furrowed his brow. "How big are we talking?"
"Hundreds of millions," she answered.
That gave Izuku pause. It all but confirmed to him that All For One still had associates out there, and whoever they were had money to spend. Izuku could potentially track down whoever put the hit on him by beating the information out of whoever comes for him, and perhaps that would give him another lead on the whereabouts of All For One's original quirk.
"Let them come," he emphatically declared.
"Izuku…" Vanta worried. "This is the kind of shit that All Might probably had to deal with."
"And they'll learn very quickly that I'm not him," Izuku did not waver. "If they see this payday as the perfect opportunity to throw their lives away, far be it from me to stop them."
Vanta sighed, but it was a fond one, and she muttered something under her breath. Izuku was tempted to ask her what that was, but he figured she wouldn't tell him anyway, so he put it out of his mind.
"Do you want to watch UA's press conference with me?" he asked instead, and she lit up.
"Hell yeah," she answered, scooting over to be beside him as he pulled out his phone and found the press conference in question.
The first thing they were greeted with was Nezu at the center of a long table flanked on either side by All Might, Eraserhead, and the rest of UA's pro hero staff. However, what jumped out at Izuku immediately was the absence of his mother. There was no reason Nezu wouldn't have included her, especially if he was looking to bolster whatever he had planned with her popularity as well as All Might's.
"Thank you all for attending. I'd rather dispense with the formalities and get right to the point. The Hero Public Safety Commission in its present iteration should be disposed of."
Startled didn't even begin to cover how that statement left Izuku. Nezu could be rather long-winded when he wanted to be, so him cutting right to the chase was one thing, but this?
"Oh," Vanta murmured in surprise. "He's just coming out and saying it?"
"My role as the principal of UA High School and as an educator is to foster the development of the youths of Japan and mold them into productive, respectable members of society, regardless of their field of study. I take that role very seriously, as do all instructors at UA. Meanwhile, the Hero Public Safety Commission, a crooked, duplicitous bureaucracy that would have you all believe them to be bastions of heroism and civil service, has a markedly different philosophy. Promising youths that display the potential for powerful or combat-capable quirks will find themselves spirited away for the sole purpose of being sharpened into the perfect blades to be used at this shadowy agency's disposal."
"Holy fuck," Vanta gaped.
"He's not pulling punches at all…" Izuku muttered in equal shock.
"Even if one were to discount the veracity of the claims brought forth against them by Gentle Criminal and the League of Anti-Villains, and we have it on very good authority that they are not fabrications, the Hero Public Safety Commission themselves have all but admitted to doing so with the existence of the Paragons, though only to clearly varying degrees of success. Not only that, but their thinly veiled attempts to put down the efforts of active heroes indicate that they do so proudly. It is nothing short of despicable."
'Forget pulling punches, Nezu's throwing haymakers at this point.'
"UA thoroughly and unequivocally condemns the Hero Public Safety Commission and their behavior that is, quite frankly, both immoral and unethical, and I implore every other school with a heroics program to do the same. As institutions with the goal of creating the next generation of pro heroes, we cannot sit idly by as the Hero Public Safety Commission performs a perverse bastardization of what we take pride in. It is our duty and obligation to take them to task for their actions for the sake of the nation that we all work tirelessly to protect. As such, UA High School wholeheartedly throws its support behind Izuku Midoriya."
Izuku's phone would have hit the floor had Vanta not caught it and slid it back into his grasp. He'd remember to thank her for that when his stupefaction died down, but his attention was currently fixed on his principal reaching underneath the table and retrieving a child-sized, iridescent scarf. Just as well, every other teacher present did the same, including All Might. As one, they each stood and wrapped a replica of his scarf around their necks, making their collective statement clear.
"UA stands with Beacon."
Izuku might as well have been made of tatami with how floored he was. He was so taken aback that he barely registered Vanta slipping out of his peripheral vision. He did not account for this possibility whatsoever. He left to avoid burdening UA with negative associations while he battled the Commission. It may have hurt, but he was very much preparing himself for the day that Nezu had to publicly distance UA from him for the sake of optics, lest the Commission come down on them to the fullest extent. Nezu outright telling the Commission to suck an egg and not only welcoming any active hostilities but also encouraging other hero schools to follow suit was nowhere in his plans.
Had he given Nezu too little credit? Too much? Had he simply underestimated how ready and willing Nezu was to burn the Commission to the ground? It ultimately didn't matter, as this was undoubtedly going to transform how the Commission moved for the foreseeable future. Yep, that was what mattered, not the unspeakable warmth he felt seeing every teacher donning his scarf.
The feverish clamoring of the press, once Nezu opened the floor to questions, brought his attention back to the video in time to see a man with a big horn growing out of the left side of his forehead be granted the floor.
"Are you saying here today that UA is in full support of a terrorist and S-rank villain?"
And what a burning question that was, right? The premier hero school in Japan siding with a declared villain was a statement and a half, no matter what spin anyone opted to put on it. Izuku expected Nezu to be the one to respond, but All Might beat him to the punch.
"Izuku Midoriya is no terrorist, and he is certainly no villain. Beacon is the beginning of a better world."
Izuku blinked. "What?"
"Beacon does not bow before any bureaucracy. He does not kowtow to any administration. His only desire is to help people. To save people. To be his namesake and provide a path to salvation for those who are lost."
Izuku's heart sank further and further into the pits of his stomach with every word once it became clear what All Might was doing. "Oh my god, he's actually making me sound like a cult leader this time…"
"Maybe that's not such a bad thing?"
Izuku looked over to Vanta when she spoke, and yet again he was taken aback at the sight of her wearing an iridescent scarf just like the others. "Is that…?"
She smirked. "Like it? I got one right after Mirko did her thing. I kinda knew which way the winds were headed."
It was at this point that the enormity of UA's declaration in conjunction with Mirko's gesture began to sink in. His gaze unfocused, and he bonelessly flopped backward onto the mattress. "...Fuck."
"Yeah," she sympathetically remarked, patting him on the thigh. "You declared open war on the HPSC while defending your sister, and they practically martyred you in return. A cult is exactly what you'll have going forward, like it or not. All Might's just doing the smart thing and leaning into it while people are still impressionable and open to suggestions about you."
"I don't know how I feel about that," he lied.
Vanta snorted. "Just be glad you don't quite have All Might's pull yet. If he were to throw his weight around in his heyday, he might have actually ignited a civil war within a day."
"The Commission definitely had contingencies for him," Izuku said from the mattress.
"Then they'll have one for you, too," Vanta pointed out.
Izuku considered that for a long moment. "Yeah, they probably do. I'll have to be ready for an Anti-All Might weapon sometime soon."
"Do you think you could handle that?"
"Depends on if I could handle this hypothetical rogue All Might."
Vanta hummed. "And do you think you could take All Might?"
"It wouldn't be easy."
"But would you lose?"
Izuku slowly sat up on the mattress and pinned Vanta with a look that contained all of the exhaustion he'd been accumulating since his internship. "No."
Vanta did not verbally reply, at least not initially. She met his gaze, chewing on all that went unsaid like a lemon peel, and her developing frown didn't surprise him at all. Then, she leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug that was a lot tighter than he was expecting.
"Just…" she began, her tone wobbly. "Just be careful out there, okay? A lot of people need you to come back to them. Please remember that."
"You don't need to worry about me," Izuku said, returning the embrace.
"You saying that isn't helping me not worry," she sighed, pulling away and looking him in the eye. "I'm serious, Izuku. I spent a year prowling the streets every night hoping I'd get lucky and someone would fucking kill me. I'd given up on life being anything more than a painful, lonely march to death, and then some green-haired twerp talked to a reporter about reaching out to the people that society wouldn't bother with. I wrote it off as just noise until he went and proved he had the strength to do it at the UA Sports Festival by blowing up the fucking ring."
Izuku did not get the chance to correct her that he was only fifty percent of that before she continued with her hands on his shoulders. "Then, I actually met him, and he was an awkward dork, but he was the most earnest, likable dork with the most adorable, freckled cheeks I had ever encountered. I wanted so badly for him to whiff and reaffirm to me that he was just a typical blowhard full of hot air, but he got the fucking Hero Killer to go to bat for him! The guy that went around killing pro heroes for not being up to snuff screamed to the heavens that you were worthy!"
Vanta's grip on his shoulders tightened, and whether she realized it or not, her claws started digging into his skin. "You give me hope that I was so sure didn't exist, Izuku. You make me believe that a brighter tomorrow is possible and that I can help bring it to life. I'm not willing to lose that. I'm not willing to let the Commission take that away from me. Please live, Izuku. If not for yourself, then live for everyone you inspire."
For the umpteenth time that night, Izuku was rendered speechless. It was starting to get old.
Fortunately, Vanta didn't wait for a response before hugging him again. Perhaps she wasn't looking for one or simply knew one wasn't coming, but she fixed him with a final once-over before collecting her bag and sinking back into the darkness.
"I'm going to tell Ochako that you'll come back to them when this is over," she said as her head reached the inky blackness. "Don't make me a liar."
The steely gaze of Madame President dispassionately regarded the bound, heaving idiot before her. The Paragons' tasks were few and simple: hunt down Izuku Midoriya and nip any signs of societal upheaval in the bud. Operative One took it upon himself to take point on that with gusto by presenting himself to the nation as a gallant swashbuckler who would lead society into a new golden age by being the infallible wall between them and the forces of evil. Looking at the twitching, sputtering mess strapped to a folding chair in the bowels of Headquarters, though? Only one word came to mind.
"Pathetic."
"Pl-please, m'Lady," One frantically sputtered, sweat pouring down his face. "I can make this right. J-just give me another chance and I will hunt down Midoriya-"
"Five," she coldly interrupted, and on cue, an armored hand landed on his shoulder and pumped his highly conductive body full of electricity.
The armored hand belonged to Operative Five garbed in the standard armored bodysuit that most of the Paragons wore some variation of; his had a golden trim between the armored plates to match his short, golden hair and equally golden 5 on his left breast. It was much less obnoxious than One's take on it, another indictment of the wasted time and energy convulsing before her.
After a few seconds of electrocution, Operative Five killed the flow and removed his hand, stepping away from the groaning, spasming failure. Madame President's expression remained statuesque as she watched his wits slowly return to him.
"The one thing that's worse than making promises you can't keep is making promises you know that won't be able to keep," she intoned. "Don't concern yourself with going back out into the field. You are no longer of any use to Japan."
"What?"
"You had your weaknesses exposed on live television," she stated, her tone as cold as ice. "Mere moments after talking down to Japan's Number One Hero, you were knocked out in one blow by the very boy you were instructed to put down fresh off of his battle with a Nomu. Even if there was any hope that whatever criminal you faced down in the future wouldn't simply employ enough blunt force to shatter your brittle skeleton going forward, no one would take you seriously regardless. You are damaged goods and reflect negatively on us by extension."
"But I can fix this!" he frantically pleaded. "I know I messed up this time, but it won't happen again, I swear! Give me another chance, I promise I wo-!"
A snap of her finger was all it took for Operative Five to clamp down on One's shoulders and electrocute him once more. The once intrepid, dauntless force of nature (by his own admission, of course) was reduced to a convulsing, drooling wretch at Operative Five's mercy. It would have been almost entertaining to watch him be broken like this if he was at all worthy of that modicum of emotional investment. Instead, she simply let the electricity course through him with reckless abandon for a few moments longer until she signaled for Operative Five to stop.
Once he ceased his quirk and stepped back, One slumped forward like a limp noodle. He was deathly silent, so much so that Operative Five placed two fingers on his carotid artery to check his pulse.
"His heart stopped, m'Lady," he lowly informed through his rebreather after a moment.
"Bring him back," she ordered. "I'm not finished with him."
Nodding, he stepped around to be in front of One before his hands crackled with electricity once more. With his impromptu defibrillator, he pressed his hands to One's chest and tried to jumpstart his heart. When nothing happened, he did so again. When nothing happened still, he tried a third time with a touch more force, and One was jolted back to consciousness with a sputter. She allowed him a moment to regain himself before his panicked gaze set back on to her. He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself and remained silent. At least he was learning.
Too little, too late.
"Failure is suboptimal, but I can live with failure; humans are imperfect creatures by nature," she began, watching him cower under her glare like a beaten dog. "What I will not tolerate, however, is embarrassment, and that is all you are. You are not Unbreakable, and you are not indestructible; you are nothing more than an embarrassment. You are officially relieved of your duties."
His eyes widened in panicked understanding. "But- but I'm a Paragon! I'm Number One, I-I can f-!"
"There are six children at Nabu Island being prepped to fill your newly vacant position as we speak, all with significantly more useful abilities than you possess," she icily cut him off, narrowing her glare and leaning in to punctuate her next words. "You. Are. Not. Special."
With that, she turned and began walking away toward the door. "Dispose of him."
She didn't need to turn back to know Operative Five had placed either hand on One's head. "Wait, please-!" were the last things she heard from him before the metal door slammed shut behind her, and as she walked down the hall toward the elevator, she moved on to the next crisis occupying her brain, or rather crises. The truth of Lady Nagant getting out there was very bad, but it wasn't catastrophic; she could pin all of it on the previous administration. The truth of Hawks was a touch harder to disassociate from, and the fact of his image taking a hit with many after the debacle at UA was not helping matters. She honestly wasn't even sure if he was still alive after he ran afoul of Izuku Midoriya at UA, and at this point, she wasn't sure if it even mattered.
What did matter, however, was Nezu using this moment of weakness to finally play his hand. In any other situation, this would have been suicide for the filthy vermin. Beyond being the top heroics institution in the nation, UA was practically a hero agency in its own right since the staff largely stuck to the city when out on patrol. UA wasn't just an ordinary hero school, UA had the resources and firepower available to attack and seize a whole prefecture for itself if they really wanted to, and it wasn't exactly a secret. The idea of UA directly participating in an active rebellion against the government would have immediately been twisted as a plot to militarize and stage a hostile takeover. Nearly every agency and school in the country would have turned against them in short order to put down the threat of an insurrection, begrudgingly or otherwise.
That wasn't going to fucking happen now, though. The public was already riled up and protesting en masse outside of headquarters, and the number of heroes that were bound to fall in line was on a steady decline all thanks to a fucking high school dropout that couldn't hack it as a hero student so he became a clout-chasing public nuisance. She'd have Danjuro Tobita's head mounted on her mantle beside Midoriya's and above a taxidermy of Nezu. The second he showed his face outdoors, she'd have him fucking gutted-
Blood trickling out of her bandaged nostrils halted her furious musings, forcing her to pause and take a breath. There was no use wasting her anger by raging to herself. No, it needed to be directed, and Nezu provided the perfect outlet. If Nezu wanted to make this cold war a hot one, then it was time to take off the kid gloves. Nezu himself was inaccessible, but his students out on work-studies were not, and in this line of work, tragic accidents were an inevitability.
She huffed, finally reaching the open elevator door and stepping inside. Once the door shut, her carefully maintained unflappability vanished, and she unleashed a holy shriek before punching the metal door as hard as she could…
"Son of a fucking whore!"
…which was a mistake, as evidenced by her cradling her throbbing hand. Her potentially broken hand would be the least of her concerns, however. There was the mother of all shitstorms to deal with above ground, starting with the issue of the HPSC officially losing All Might's implicit support…
Perched on the ledge of a building above a busy street in Kanazawa, Izuku's gaze was rooted in one particular individual below. Yoroi Musha ambled down the sidewalk without a care in the world, nodding to waving passersby and stopping every so often for a picture to those who asked for one. Even when patrolling his typical route on an ordinary night, he still readily soaked up the adulation of the unsuspecting populace, hiding behind his intimidating, no-nonsense demeanor to maintain the perception of heroic professionalism. These people had no idea who he truly was under the helmet, they were just happy to see the man who spent so many decades protecting them, their loved ones, and their livelihoods.
It made Izuku fucking sick. That familiar fire crackled to life in his core once again as he watched him go about his work among those people as if he weren't a monster. He was nothing more than a monster hiding in plain sight, and Izuku could only wonder if he was internally terrified of everything he had done finally coming to light with the downfall of the Commission.
Then again, if he was so willing to cavalierly mention training his mom, then maybe he thought he was bulletproof.
There was one thing he certainly wouldn't be, however, and that was fireproof.
Izuku didn't miss the faint, almost imperceptible scuff of the concrete on the roof behind him, but the fact that it was so easy to miss raised his hackles. Turning his head to observe the new arrival, he fought back the surprise that nearly exploded from him. There had been enough of that already.
"Looks like I can't sneak up on you anymore," his mother commented with a fond smile. "You've grown so much."
Izuku could do nothing but unleash a forlorn sigh. "Nezu is really playing hardball by sending you after me."
Inko snorted. "You know Nezu well enough by now."
"Yeah, I guess," Izuku shrugged, turning back to the street below. "How did you track me down?"
"Your friend, Hatsume," she answered, sitting beside him on the ledge. "She chipped your costume in case you were ever in a bind. She called it a 'Beacon-napping precaution'."
It was Izuku's turn to snort. "Sounds just like Mei. She's always looking out for me."
His mother's soft laugh was far too disarming for his comfort. "You have great friends, y'know."
Izuku stared at the street below, his eyes still following Musha while his mind traveled back to his conversation with Vanta. "…Yeah, I do."
They sat in silence for a little while, the nighttime breeze gently gliding past them as he kept his sights on Musha, who had stopped to rendezvous with one of his sidekicks. He continued nodding to those who waved at him as they passed by all the while.
"It's not fair…" Izuku finally spoke, doing his very best to keep his voice steady.
"I know," was all Inko said in reply.
"He gets to walk around scot-free after everything he's done," Izuku continued, his tone even more strangled.
"I know."
Izuku was losing his battle with his emotions. "He gets to hurt people, the people that trusted him, mind you, and still be praised as a magnanimous civil servant!"
The break between responses drew on a little longer than the last few times. "I know."
"I need to put him down."
"It's not your burden to bear, Izu."
"Why not?" Izuku pleaded, turning to his mother and facing her very carefully blank expression directly. "Why can't it be? Why can't I take that pain from you, Mom?"
He could see the cracks in her expression forming in real-time, but she held on, closing her eyes and gently running her hand through his hair. "Because you wouldn't be doing that. Seeing you in so much pain over this hurts a thousand times worse than anything I endured because of him."
"But…"
"Izu," she said, running her hands out of his hand to hold him by his cheeks and look him in the eye. "Let it out."
The distress in her misty gaze was almost too much for him to bear. "What?"
"Izuku, please," she replied, pulling him into the warm familiarity of her embrace. "Let it out."
Izuku tried to fight it, he really did. He tried his damnedest to hold it together like he had been doing since fighting Hawks. Like he'd been doing since learning of the Commission blackmailing Rumi. Like he'd been doing since he watched Kota get his neck broken and he immolated Muscular. Like he'd been doing since learning about the pain his mother had endured, as well as the pain of all those that both hero society and society at large just didn't care for. Like he'd been doing since he finally got over the nightmares of the Sludge Villain pouring down his windpipe and filling his lungs, only to be violently expelled via unforgiving flames-
He finally broke, limply sinking deeper into the safety of his mother's embrace as his own turmoil was unleashed. Tears poured down his cheeks, carrying with them all of the pain, anger, and despair that he'd done his very best to bundle up and shove to the back of his mind over the year. He couldn't fight it anymore, not while his mother's love washed over him and dispelled all of his worries. Yet again, he was reduced to the confused, teary-eyed five-year-old from so long ago in her arms.
"I'm tired, Mom," he shakily admitted.
"Then rest, Izu," Inko gently replied, softly rubbing his back all the while. "You're allowed to do that."
"I can't afford to," he rebutted.
"Honey, you look like shit," she said, pulling away and looking him over. "Your costume is in tatters, your hair is a mess, you have bags under your eyes the size of the Sea of Japan, and you smell."
His cheeks faintly warmed, and he looked away with a slight pout as he wiped the tears away. "My hair is always a mess…"
"And it's a wonderful mess," she giggled, ruffling it in just the right way. "Seriously, though, you really need a bath."
Izuku groaned, but he hardened his expression nonetheless. "If this is your way of trying to bring me back to UA-"
"It's not," she interrupted. "As much as I hate it, you're doing a whole lot more good out here than you would be at home."
That caught Izuku off guard. "You're not here to bring me back?"
Inko sighed. "I want you home, Izuku, believe me, but we're unfortunately in way too deep at this point."
Then, she retrieved a cell phone from her utility belt and handed it to him. "Here. If every line at UA wasn't already tapped, they will be going forward, so this will keep your conversations secure."
Izuku examined what seemed like any ordinary cell phone, but he knew better. "…What's this?"
"It's a fully encrypted burner. All of the UA staff have one in case of… well, you know Nezu. You'll be able to reach any of us whenever you need."
Izuku's eyes widened in a mixture of surprise, burgeoning excitement, and lingering apprehension. This officially made the new situation real to him. UA was completely and publicly backing him.
"Also, there's a map in there with a ton of marked addresses," Inko continued. "Nezu has properties all over the country under a false identity that you can use as safehouses. They're all furnished and have running water. You hear that? Running water."
"Oh my god, Mom, I get it!" Izuku huffed, stuffing the burner phone into his utility belt beside his own. Her poorly stifled giggling only made his cheeks puff in indignation, which naturally transformed her giggling into outright laughter.
Just hearing that eased Izuku's soul far more than he could describe. It reminded him of exactly what he was out here for.
Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by a water droplet plopping onto his head, followed by several more, and within moments, the pitter-patter of rain was serenading the night.
"This is sudden," Inko commented, looking up at the dark, cloudy expanse. "The sky was just clear, wasn't it?"
"Yeah…" Izuku murmured, his gaze narrowing at the unusual speed of the clouds roaming overhead. Perhaps it was the fact that he had to be on his toes any time he was out in public, but something just felt wholly unnatural about it all, as if the weather was straight up being manipulated by an unseen force…
He heard the sudden shift in the wind behind them before he actually saw anything, and that was enough to send his heightened nerves into maximum overdrive. A fiery, orange wall flared to life behind them right in time for an ultra-sharp gale to slam into the barrier, nearly cleaving right through as mother and son turned in unison to see a man with his silver hair in a long braid on the other end of the roof. His black, armored jumpsuit and silver 8 on his chest gave away his status as a Paragon.
"Good, both Midoriyas are here," he rumbled through his rebreather, and then he pointed the glowing-white sword in his hand at Inko. "Now, we don't have to lure you out. We can kill you both in one fell swoop."
As the rain began to pick up in intensity, the glow of his sword also intensified with visible wind circulating it, and he slashed his sword at them once again. After noting the damage the last one did to his barrier, he refused to chance this one getting through, so he flared his quirk to full power in an attempt to strengthen the barrier tenfold through 2nd Gear. Unfortunately, while the barrier did visibly thicken, he couldn't draw out all the power he wanted, so the razor-sharp blades of wind that shot out of his sword with every slash would cut through the barrier sooner rather than later. Izuku tried even harder to get a grasp of all of his power, but he met resistance every step of the way as if the full extent of his quirk was being doused by-
"Son of a bitch," Izuku growled, the realization finally hitting him that the rain wasn't just unnatural, it was also targeted.
"What is-" his mother began to ask before her gaze shifted to the left and widened in panic. "Dodge!"
Izuku tried, he really did, but the vibrant, exceptionally colorful beam of energy that slammed straight through the barrier like a runaway freight train was too fast for him to evade, blasting him off the roof and torpedoing him into the building across the street with a thunderous crash. He didn't stop there, though; he pinballed through the occupied office building, careening through walls and out the other side in short order before he smacked into the wet concrete like a slice of bologna.
It took a moment for him to collect himself, and the rain seriously wasn't helping. When he finally did, he slowly peeled himself off the concrete to see a tall man(?) with skin that appeared to be made of indigo and magenta crystals. Izuku immediately recognized him as one of the Paragons that was on TV; he wouldn't forget such striking mutations. However, unlike all the rest he had seen who sported armored body suits, this one forwent that for a simple pair of black tights.
"Izuku Midoriya, you are under arrest," the Paragon announced, the crystal horn and singular eye adorning his blocky head fascinating Izuku despite himself. "You can either come quietly, or I can kill you."
Izuku had a sneaking suspicion that the offer was just lip service and that they were going to kill him anyway. With that in mind, Izuku climbed back to his feet and spat the little bit of blood in his mouth at the ground in the Paragon's direction, making his stance abundantly clear.
"Very well," the Paragon said with a nod before raising the back of his wrist to his mouth. "Chromastone to Fujin: proceed with termination-"
Izuku was already on him in a fiery, emerald flurry, slamming a right hook into Chromastone's square jaw before driving his left fist into his absurdly solid diaphragm. Rather than fold over his fist like Izuku intended, Chromastone latched onto Izuku's arm and slammed his crystalline horn into Izuku's forehead, launching Izuku's vision straight into the stars. Being knocked loopy like that even for a moment wasn't ideal with him now being mostly defenseless from return fire, that being the vicious left hook to his kidney, the equally vicious elbow to his face, and the backhand that would have batted him away like a swatted fly had Chromastone not yanked him back by his scarf.
Izuku was mildly grateful that he wasn't yanked back into an awaiting fist, as he was instead flung into the air by his scarf. Fortunately, he had regained most of his bearings by the time he was airborne. Unfortunately, he was right in time to see the second rainbow beam of energy fire straight off of Chromastone's glowing abdomen and blast him away once again. The immense force of the blast would have knocked the wind out of him had he not braced for the impact, but it still rocketed him a good few blocks through the city until his journey came to an unceremonious halt when he crashed into Tsuzumi-mon Gate of Kanazawa Station.
The fall back to the ground was marginally more forgiving than the gate was, and he was at least able to climb back to his feet with a pained, annoyed heave. "At least I'm finally out of the rain…"
As he muttered that, the horrible sensation of a steady drizzle returned, and his fortunes remained in the pits as the heavy rain quickly returned.
"Of fucking course," he grumbled, already feeling the rain draping a wet blanket over his quirk. "I need to put these guys down and get back to Mom immediately. I really hope she's okay..."
A blood-soaked Inko quietly sat within the carnage left behind from her vicious (albeit very brief) encounter with the silver-haired Paragon. She recognized him from Hawks's description when he finally spilled everything he knew about the Commission, the Paragon Initiative included. This man was the eighth of nine total operatives, the aptly named Fujin whose quirk, Wind Blade, allowed him to manipulate the air around his hands and fashion it into incredibly sharp blades. He could even imbue objects with this wind, increasing the sharpness of cutting tools and greatly expanding his range.
So, naturally, his hands were the first to go. Swiping his sword to chop them off was child's play once she liberated him of his eyes with her quirk. She could have left it at that and simply abandoned him on the roof to bleed out, but…
"Now, we don't have to lure you out. We can kill you both in one fell swoop."
He had threatened her baby boy, so he had chosen death.
She could have stopped when he was down both of his feet as well as his hands.
She could have stopped when he desperately bargained for his life by revealing that this trap was set for Izuku after figuring that he'd be going after Musha next.
She finally stopped when he was little more than viscera strewn about like a discarded jigsaw puzzle.
There she sat, her expression as blank as the void that resided within her, the void that had been her passenger for twenty-five long years. She superimposed Musha's face onto Fujin every step of the way, and yet, she still felt nothing. It wasn't satisfying because it wasn't him.
Nezu was right. This wasn't going to leave her until she confronted him directly. But that could wait. Her son needed her.
She picked up the newly liberated sword and gave it a curious once over. It wasn't like any sword she had ever encountered before, which explained why she cut through his limbs so cleanly. Musha didn't have anything like it when she interned with him, nor had he ever created any sword of this sort with his quirk. Maybe Power Loader could examine it and find out what exactly it was made of, but she could think about that later. For now, she turned to observe the skyline, and her gaze locked on a burst of vibrant light in the distance.
Bingo.
Izuku didn't realize just how much he loathed rain until today. Not since he was underwater at the USJ had he experienced having his quirk doused in such a way, and it frankly sucked. Make no mistake, though, he wasn't so handicapped that he was powerless. Brutally slugging it out with Chromastone was evidence of that, as his tempered, green flames still offered him considerable strength even if they weren't at full power.
The problem was that Chromastone was also ludicrously strong. He didn't hit as hard as Muscular or Rumi, but Izuku definitely found himself gritting through every bone-rattling punch that managed to slip through his guard. To make matters worse, Chromastone was not burdened with the soft, fleshy body of a regular human, instead having skin composed of some fucking super crystals that made Izuku feel like he was punching Kirishima high off the finest Trigger on the planet. A simple slugfest wasn't going to get Izuku very far, especially in this godforsaken rain.
Luckily, the nature of his gauntlets allowed him to slowly pool his red flames into his fist and remain mostly shielded from the downpour, which was what he had been doing throughout his back-and-forth brawl with this crystalline jackass. Ducking under a right hook that would have rung his bell if it connected, Izuku thrust his right fist into Chromastone's abdomen and unleashed crimson hell at point-blank range, bathing him in as much ungodly heat as he could generate in this downpour…
…Only for Chromastone to literally absorb the flames into his abdomen while flexing. Izuku blinked, and the painfully familiar radiance of a colorful burst of energy began to emanate from Chromastone's body, illuminating Izuku's dumbstruck expression all the while.
"Are you fu-!" Izuku's indignant balking was cut short by an equally point-blank energy beam, the third one he had taken since the battle began.
The beam blasted him across the courtyard of Kanazawa Station like a rock skipping along concrete. When he finally skidded to a stop, the first thing he noticed was the cloud directly above him flashing ominously, and whether through pure grit, unbridled spite, or some combination therein, he fortunately had the wherewithal to unleash his yellow fire with enough ferocity to zoom out of dodge in the nick of time as a bolt of lightning struck the spot he had just occupied.
Flashing to one of the trusses on either side of the courtyard, Izuku took a moment to catch his breath; he had just about had it with this whole fucking encounter, and he was ready to put an end to it. As he took note of all the onlookers that he assumed were trying to catch the midnight trains being corralled into the safety of the building by Yoroi Musha's sidekicks, he finally spotted a man with a long head of spiky brown hair garbed in an armored jumpsuit floating in the air near the main building of the station. Izuku closely noted how the rain parted for him and the wind seemed to billow beneath him as he gracefully landed atop Tsuzumi-mon Gate.
"That has to be who's controlling the weather," Izuku surmised before his attention fell back to Chromastone on the ground. "I can deal with him quickly in 2nd Gear if I end the rain."
Just then, he watched Chromastone bring the back of his wrist to his mouth once again, and the clouds above flashed before another bolt of lightning struck Chromastone where he stood. Izuku was completely taken aback by that, but a pit grew in his stomach when Chromastone absorbed the electricity, and the telltale signs of a vibrant rainbow enveloping him emerged. It became clear to Izuku that Chromastone's quirk allowed him to absorb multiple forms of energy and weaponize it after converting it into those beams. In that case…
Izuku blasted off from his spot as an enormous, blinding beam of energy plowed through the newly empty space and blasted harmlessly into the sky. Meanwhile, Izuku was in front of the weather manipulator in a fraction of a second and socked him right in the jaw, rocketing him off of the gate and sending him crashing into the station like a human missile. The goal was for him to meet a similar fate as his mouthy comrade, and within moments, the rain stopped dead, signaling that Izuku had succeeded one way or another.
With the rain gone, Izuku could feel an icy tension settle within the courtyard originating from Chromastone, but he was more concerned with feeling his quirk back at full power. He glowed a bright red, steam from the rain that had soaked him billowing off of him before 2nd Gear roared to life, and a pillar of rainbow fire shot into the sky. Izuku fully turned to face Chromastone, and he met the Paragon's consternation with the dark, taunting smirk of a predator that had finally cornered his prey.
Then, 2nd Gear died down, and Izuku was back to being bathed by his base flames. He jumped down from the gate and landed on the concrete across from Chromastone, cracking his knuckles all the while.
"Nah, I don't need 2nd Gear for this," Izuku chuckled with a look that promised the purest of pain.
Then, he was gone in a yellow flare, appearing in front of Chromastone before he could blink and burying a burning green fist into his gut, this time feeling his crystalline skin crack around his fist with the added oomph granted by not being in the rain. Chromastone put his hands up to defend, but he was too slow for the fiery haymaker that slammed into his face, and that went double for the sweep to his legs that knocked him flat on his back. That offered him no respite, though, as Izuku seized his leg and hoisted him into the air, slinging him over his shoulder and slamming him face-first into the concrete. Then, he pivoted, hoisting Chromastone up once more to slam him again even harder. His green flames flaring like an emerald inferno, Izuku heaved him up a final time and launched him like a ragdoll into the left pillar of Tsuzumi-mon Gate.
Izuku barely had a second to revel in smugness before his eyes narrowed at the emergence of vibrant light from the pillar. Being on the ground level with civilians potentially in harm's way, Izuku forewent his earlier statement by slipping into 2nd Gear for what was about to come. As expected, a powerful beam of energy blasted toward him, and dodging meant anyone past the bounds of Kanazawa Station who just happened to have existed in the line of fire would've been annihilated, so he braced himself as 2nd Gear burned orange and violet, a protective, flaming cocoon strongly resembling a rib cage fashioned out of violet tendrils and orange plating manifesting around him. The beam slammed into the construct, pushing Izuku back a few feet as the ethereal rib cage creaked against the power of the beam.
Refusing to succumb, Izuku gritted his teeth and pushed to his limits, willing the construct to not only hold strong but also evolve. Violet flames fanned out of the rib cage on all sides, coiling together to form even more bones while orange plating slid into place around them. Soon enough, the flaming rib cage had grown into a ghastly upper body sans the head. Sweat steamed off of Izuku's head as he raised his arms, laboring the ethereal arms to raise alongside him before they slammed directly into the ground ahead and, consequently, the beam itself. Chunks of concrete exploded from the impact zone as the disrupted energy fizzled out, and Chromastone stumbled backward onto his ass beneath the gate.
Meanwhile, the headless phantom surrounding Izuku went on the attack, snatching Chromastone into its boney clutches. He wasn't allotted a single moment to process what was happening before he was slammed into the ground by the equivalent of a giant. He allowed even less time to process that before he was lifted back into the air and slammed again… and again, and again. On and on it went with Izuku repeatedly acquainting Chromastone with the unforgiving concrete far beyond the point where the concrete was in pieces.
Chromastone was slammed into the ground a twelfth time before he received any semblance of mercy, and that only came in the form of being hoisted back into the air just to be squeezed like a stuffed toy. The grip around Chromastone tightened, drawing agonized wails from the Paragon. Izuku could hear his already damaged crystal skin breaking even more within the ghastly vise, and it was music to his ears. After everything he'd endured on this crusade, he wanted to savor every second of this.
That was, at least, until Chromastone glared at Izuku with a disturbing mania in his singular eye and a twisted grin. Even more cracks began to form all across his body, only now they were glowing with rapidly building energy. Even a blind man could have read the writing on the wall, and Izuku wasn't going to allow anyone to come to harm in this desperate bid to take him out. Gritting his teeth once more, Izuku tightened the grip around Chromastone and willed the other hand to clamp around him, meanwhile, orange flames cascaded up the skeletal arms until they enveloped both hands, encapsulating them and Chromastone in a thick shell that Izuku hoped would hold.
A beat of silence passed before the cocoon began to shake violently, consequently rattling the flaming bones holding it tightly in place. Finally, the energy within detonated, creating a dense shockwave that reverberated through the skeleton and shook Izuku to his core. He kept his feet planted and bore the feedback, pushing his quirk that was already in maximum overdrive even further beyond.
"You need to win in the court of public opinion if you want a real shot at this, Midoriya, even if you have to martyr yourself to do it."
A guttural howl of exertion tore out of his throat as the quirk strain he'd been able to overcome for so long began to overwhelm him once again, but he did not relent for a single nanosecond. Eventually, the shell finally gave way, and the last dregs of the blast shattered the arms of the construct keeping it contained. Izuku was knocked back, but it was primarily the exhaustion that brought him to the ground rather than the shockwave itself. Still, he dragged himself up to see the aftermath for himself, and when all he saw was a smoldering pile of indigo crystals and the remains of clothed legs, he flopped back down with a heaving sigh of relief.
"Fucking hell," was the first thing that left Izuku's mouth. "That was a lot tougher than it should've been. I need to address that rain weakness immediately."
"Don't move a muscle, Beacon!"
"Oh my fucking god…" Izuku bemoaned as he was surrounded by a group of Yoroi Musha's sidekicks.
"We got him, boys!" one of them shouted, bowstring drawn with an arrow ready to fire into his brain should he move a centimeter. "He's not going anywhere after all that."
"I'll get the boss," a woman's voice declared from out of Izuku's line of sight.
"No need. I'm already here."
That voice captured Izuku's attention immediately. His gaze darted to the grizzled man approaching them, and it hardened into steel. Who else but the man himself, Yoroi fucking Musha, to be ambling toward him right now of all times. Even though he was wrecked by exhaustion, Izuku could feel the fiery darkness in his chest steadily roaring to life.
"That was a very captivating battle, my boy," Musha spoke, and then regretfully he shook his head. "An unfortunate waste of prodigious youth you turned out to be. I can't very well say I'm surprised, though. Looking in your eyes right now… you have the same unhinged gaze about you that your mother had-"
"You keep her name out of your fucking mouth!" Izuku venomously spat, his body heating back up before a boot pressed down on his forehead.
"I said don't move!" the man with the bow barked at him, and Izuku was seconds away from incinerating the entire group and living with whatever consequences awaited before another variable entered the fray.
"I can take it from here," a muffled voice announced, drawing each of their attention.
Izuku looked up to see the weather manipulating Paragon walking toward them with purpose. Despite being punched into the tenth dimension, he looked no worse for wear. Curious, that.
"Ah, it's you," Musha greeted with a respectful nod as the Paragon callously stepped over the smoldering remains of his comrade. "Indra, correct?"
"Yes," Indra confirmed before looking down at Izuku. "Thank you for the assistance, but I will collect him and take him into custody."
Now that Izuku could get a good look at him, he took a moment to really analyze this operative. His black rebreather with a small, blue 3 engraved on it hid half of his face, drawing more attention to his rather confusing gaze. It wasn't his dull, dark brown eyes in particular that were noteworthy, but rather what laid behind them that puzzled Izuku. They were focused entirely on him, but there wasn't any caution or hints of attempts at analyzing him to speak of. His gaze was brimming with barely contained excitement.
The group stepped aside to allow Indra to collect him, but a cry of, "HOLD IT!" from the direction Indra came from stilled his hand. The group turned to see another one of Musha's sidekicks frantically sprinting toward them, this one in similar samurai regalia as his boss.
"I don't know who that is, but he's an imposter!" he shouted, pointing directly at Indra.
"What are you talking about, Benkei?" Musha questioned.
"I saw him," the newly identified Benkei emphasized, gesturing at Indra. "His body. He's lying dead in a broom closet in the station with a slit throat!"
Murmurs of surprise, confusion, and slight horror emerged within the group, but Izuku kept his gaze on Indra. He was… smiling?
"Whoever this is," Benkei darkly continued, drawing his sword from the sheath on his hip, "it's not him."
"Guess the cat's out of the bag, huh," Indra said, his unsettling smile not faltering.
The sidekick with the bow switched targets from Izuku to Indra, but a knife plunged between his eyes before he could fire, a knife that miraculously appeared in and left Indra's hand without Izuku even noticing his arm move. A sword phased into Yoroi Musha's awaiting grasp courtesy of his quirk, but Indra ducked under the slash that followed and stabbed Musha in the kidney, bringing him to a knee with a grunt as Indra deftly evaded the onslaught of attacks to collect Izuku into his arms and book it out of the courtyard. Izuku's immense confusion at the situation bloomed into surprise when "Indra's" skin began to melt into grey sludge, and that surprise grew tenfold when long, brown hair was replaced with blonde hair in two messy buns.
"It's you?" Izuku muttered, thrown for all kinds of loops by this development as his rescuer leaped onto the nearest wall and expertly bounded from building to building until they were on a roof.
Himiko Toga smiled down at him all the while, her golden, cat-like eyes half-lidded and dressed by a deep blush on her cheeks. "I've got you now, and I'm never letting you go-"
"Not so fast!" one of Musha's sidekicks shouted, appearing overhead on a hoverboard made of fire before cutting them off with an equally flaming arrow.
He hovered in front of them, fire forming into another arrow along the invisible bow in his grasp as he primed to shoot it at them, but a sudden and nasty-sounding pop in his ribs stopped him cold. He dropped out of the air like a fly with a shrill scream of agony serenading his descent, and a fourth figure quickly joined the fray to silence him with a swift hit from the butt of a sword.
Izuku immediately recognized this one, and unbridled joy filled his soul. "Mom!"
Inko turned to them with a smile that grew perplexed when she took in their current state, and it was at this point that Izuku realized that all of the sludge had fallen away from Toga, leaving her completely naked. Inko shook it off a lot faster and motioned for them to follow her.
"Come on, there's a safehouse close by."
Would you believe that this chapter was originally going to be even longer? There was a scene that would've followed up with the MLA, but I'm pushing it to next chapter for the sake of brevity. 15K words is more than enough.
There's also a pretty obscure Simpsons reference nestled somewhere in this chapter (amongst the more obvious ones to other things), and I love you if you got it.
Super side note: to alleviate any potential confusion, the Chromastone you see here is not actual alien Chromastone that would violate the verse something fierce like most Ben 10 aliens would. It's just some dude with a quirk here. The only living aliens on Earth right now are Wash and Mina.
I hope everyone affected by the fires in LA is safe and in good health.
Thanks for reading.