Chapter 90: Can't Catch a Break
Shoto was familiar with fear.
He'd experienced it almost every day for as long as he could remember, saw it reflected in tired, mismatched eyes in the mirror. Saw it on Fuyumi's face when Endeavor was a little too rough with him (not that she ever saw the worst of it). He saw it on his classmates' faces during the USJ, and even a bit during Aizawa's introductory class.
He saw it on his mother, when she realized what she'd done to him.
"Eraserhead is stalling them, but the Hero Commission is here. I think they know you're here."
When those words left the girl's mouth, he felt like he understood Midoriya a lot more than he did before.
His skin, already pasty and unhealthy, turned almost white. A visible sheen of sweat coated his brow. His pupils became pinpricks, his breathing quickened.
Yet he did not make a sound. If anything, his already minimal presence was reduced to near-nothing. If Shoto hadn't been staring right at him, he may have forgotten the other boy entirely.
That sort of response was warily, sickeningly familiar.
Shoto was very familiar with fear. Whatever Midoriya was afraid of was very real, and was probably on its way directly towards him.
"You should leave." The words felt raspy in his throat, sore and abused as it was. All eyes shot to him as he spoke, so he continued. "Perhaps the window?"
Iida looked appalled for a moment, but said nothing. Midoriya swallowed thickly, shaking his head. When he spoke, it was the barest of whispers.
"I-I can't climb right now. T-t-too hurt. If they know I'm here, t-they're probably watching the outside anyways."
The voices were growing closer. Easy to tell based on Endeavor's volume. Shoto's own pool of fear and apprehension settled in his gut. At least this fear was familiar. Shoto would hurt, and hate, and probably cry when he was alone, but he would not die. Endeavor would never risk losing another child, especially after Shoto had gotten any amount of public recognition.
Midoriya, on the other hand, was a wild card. But what could Shoto do?
…he could be a hero. Even if just for a moment.
"Hide, quickly. I'll cover for you." Green eyes met his own, swirling with more emotions than Shoto was comfortable identifying. One shown through more than the others: gratitude. It made him uncomfortable.
"How much time can you buy?"
He cocked his head to the side. Endeavor was in a particularly foul mood, best he could tell.
"Two, maybe three minutes. Four if I act more hurt than I really am." Showing weakness in front of Endeavor was a risky gamble. Shoto only saved it for dire occasions.
Midoriya grabbed the girl (Shoto already forgot her name, dammit) by the shoulders, staring straight into her eyes with desperation.
"I have an idea. Do you trust me?"
She startled for a moment, before grinning. "Obviously."
He grasped her wrist, dragging her towards the small attached bathroom on shaky legs. Just before he shut them inside, he locked eyes with Shoto, Bakugo, and Iida in turn.
"Remember, Midoriya Izuku doesn't exist. Period."
The door slammed shut. What had he just gotten himself into?
He shared a brief glance with Iida. The boy looked…very conflicted. He wasn't exactly the lying type, was he? He also didn't seem to like Midoriya very much, for whatever reason. Something to do with Ingenium's quirk, apparently?
That…. was a can of worms for later, he decided. Focus on what's in front of you before tackling the more…complicated problems.
Speaking of which…
"-told you, you can't just-"
"I assure you that we can. The paperwork is in order, Aizawa-san. Please step aside."
"Move, or I will move you." Ah, there was the old man. Great.
Shoto slumped in his bed as the door slid open, sinking into his pillows and looking as pathetic as possible. In a well-practiced act, he flinched, attempting to straighten his spine and looking like he failed due to pain, sinking back onto the bed.
He didn't really have to fake the pain, in all honesty, but hamming it up a bit would help as long as he didn't overdo it.
A man that Shoto was unfamiliar with entered the room. He was vaguely middle-aged, with brown hair that was slicked back and greasy looking. He had a bulbous nose with a wart on it, and beady brown eyes. He creased the lapels of his already-pristine suit, stepping aside as Endeavor stormed into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Muffled swearing was heard on the other side, and the voices rose for a moment before quieting down just as quickly. Odd…
"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I am-"
"Where is he?" Endeavor cut in, looking directly at Shoto. The man knew what that look was; it was an order, not a question. Defying orders had consequences.
Shoto was very familiar with fear.
"Who?" he choked out, keeping his face neutral atop a sea of swirling emotion.
Endeavor's eyes darkened a moment, before he scanned the rest of the room. "Enough of this. We know that the vigilante Null is here. We had a report of someone matching his description in the city. We know he came into contact with at least one nomu, and he was spotted in the area of the hero killer as well. We also know the same person was admitted to this hospital at the same time as the UA students involved in this mess. Where. Is. He?"
"Ahem. What Endeavor is saying is that this is a matter of national security. The vigilante in question is in possession of dangerous information, and we believe him to be collaborating with the League of Villains. His capture is one of our highest priorities right now."
There was a moment of tense silence, before a scoff came from the side of the room. Bakugo propped himself up with a bandaged hand, evenly meeting the man's gaze.
"Didn't the hero killer escape? Who cares about some two-bit poser who thinks he's a hero?"
"As I said, he is believed to be-"
"Enough!" Endeavor bellowed. "Shoto. Tell me what you know, and tell me now. I grow tired of your games."
Much like his accursed quirk, a war of two fronts raged within Shoto. On one hand, the League of Villains did seem…weirdly fixated on Midoriya. They apparently knew him, and his quirk…quirks? But they also tried to kill him. Shoto wasn't much of a people person, but he had the feeling that if the League was interested, the feeling was not mutual. Even so, he could probably spare himself a lot of pain by just ratting the boy out and hoping he had a good plan.
…for some reason, the very thought sent a wave of disgust rolling through him like curdled milk. He wanted to be a hero, didn't he?
Didn't he?
Without blinking, Shoto bottled his feelings away, save for the only ones that were useful: spite and pettiness.
"There were no vigilantes in that alley. Just the UA students, as well as…Native." All true, sort of. Kind of. Close enough for him anyways.
Ah, the look was back. This was going to hurt.
Endeavor took a step forward, the temperature in the room ticking up a few degrees. Bakugo started sweating, which actually brought a small measure of comfort, though he looked conflicted. Iida was unreadable.
The heat cut off abruptly, and Endeavor smirked.
"Well, if you say so. Agent Zara, why don't you check the bathroom?"
The man, Zara he supposed, startled, grinning smugly as he walked over towards the door the two students had vanished behind. Just as he gripped the handle, the door slammed open on its own, sending the man stumbling back a step.
"Hey, keep it down out here! What, a girl can't get five minutes to herself?"
The girl from before stepped out, looking…different. She was wearing Midoriya's hospital gown, and her hair had been taken out of the twin buns it was sitting in.
Her pupils were also shaped weird. Were they always slitted like that?
Zara blinked. "Pardon me, miss. What are you doing in here? The only patients in here should be UA students."
The girl grinned, showing off several sharp fangs that had the man minutely wincing backwards. "I am a UA student! Toga Himiko! Nice to meet you! Can I go back to bed now though? It's been a long week."
"I'm aware of you, Toga. You and that boy you murdered. What exactly are you doing here, of all places?"
Murdered?
A sour look passed over the girl's, Toga's, face, before smoothing out into something more natural, if a bit flat.
"I'm part of the support department at UA. I was with Manual for the week."
The two stared at one another for a moment, before Endeavor stalked back towards the door to the hallway, opening it.
"Manual. A moment." the hero himself was led into the room, looking mostly healed aside from a few remaining scrapes. "Do you know this girl?"
Manual raised a brow, before locking eyes with Toga. Something passed between them, though Shoto was unsure what it was.
"I do. Himiko-san is my intern for the week, as a part of Nedzu's special program. Which I told you already, I might add."
The agent frowned. "That's…not Null." He glanced at Toga again, critically. "Where is he? I was informed that he was in this hospital, and he needs to be brought in before he gets away."
Toga frowned, almost in a pout. "I'm the only 'special' student here. Can't say I know whoever that is."
Endeavor squinted his eyes slightly, the room growing warm again.
"...who's your sponsor, then? Nedzu's proposal said that the rehabilitation students would have a hero sponsor in charge of them, for the duration of the program."
"Ah! That'd be Kurose-san! They're super nice, and they have the absolute cutest quirk! It can turn stuff to dust!" she smiled wide, fangs once again on display. Endeavor seemed nonplussed.
"And you're aware of the vigilante we're looking for?" The agent cut in, looking confusedly at Endeavor.
She tapped a finger to her chin, looking up in thought. "I mean, I've read about them in some articles and stuff. Didn't really get a lot of internet time in the hospital. Oh! I got to listen to this super cute radio show, though, it was-"
"What hospital were you put in?"
A moment. Then two.
"Pardon?" Her voice sounded…a bit different. Something…wobbly.
"What hospital. Did you stay at. Prior to your trial?"
Something…odd, came over Toga's face.
"It was Peaks Hospital. Why, Endeavor-san?"
Shoto physically shuddered as all semblance of heat vanished in the room. Iida shrunk backwards, and Bakugo stopped moving entirely.
It was hard to breathe. The lights were on, the sun was up, but he felt almost exactly like he did in that darkened alleyway, smelling smoke and blood, wondering whether he would live through the hour.
Who was this girl? What was she?
"Why? Does that sound familiar to you, Endeavor?"
SLAM!
"THAT'S ENOUGH!"
The shout was loud enough to rattle the windows, causing them all to wince. Of all people, Present Mic stormed into the room, looking angrier than Shoto had ever pictured the man could be. He stalked right up to the number two hero, prodding his chest with a pointed finger.
"I don't know where you get off interrogating our students without a guardian present! I don't CARE that you're one of them! We told you five separate times you couldn't come in here while the students were still recovering!"
Endeavor rolled his eyes, gathering his bearings again. "And I told you that this was official Commission business. It has nothing to do with-"
"NOTHING TO DO WITH US!? You're breaking half a dozen laws by being in here! I WILL be reporting this!"
"Already done."
Shoto finally, blessedly relaxed as Aizawa's cold, threatening voice filled the room. He stalked in on silent feet, one hand in his capture weapon. Just behind him, a man in a police uniform. Shoto vaguely recognized him from the aftermath of the USJ incident.
"Endeavor-san, Zara-san. This line of questioning is over." The cop said. "Official questioning related to the hero killer and the League of Villains must go through me. If you want to speak to the students about the events of the previous night, please go through the proper channels first."
"We're not here for that!" The agent snapped back. "We need to find a dangerous villain that may have infiltrated UA!"
Aizawa cocked his head to the side. "What on Earth are you talking about? Accusing Endeavor's son of turning traitor? That's a new one."
Endeavor visibly tensed at that, the flames on his face flickering.
"Don't presume you understand our motives, just because you operate underground, and under the purview of that rat." The man practically spat the words onto the floor.
The tension spiked again. Endeavor was getting hotter by the second. Bakugo subtly wiped some sweat onto his hand. Aizawa's hair twitched ever-so-slightly, a sign of his quirk about to activate. Manual took a step back from the stare down as the detective's hand drifted towards his hip.
…Was this it? Were they going to fight now? Here?
"Excuse me, sirs!"
Every eye in the room snapped towards Iida's booming voice. He was sitting upright, though he looked very uncomfortable.
"I believe I can smooth over our misunderstanding here. I am aware of the vigilante known as Null." Shoto gaped at the boy. Was he actually ratting Midoriya out?
The agent paused a moment, but spoke before anyone else responded. "Please, enlighten us."
With his unbandaged hand, Iida adjusted his weight on the bed he was on. "During my brother's, Ingenium's, autopsy, a Commission agent told us about an escaped villain with a permanent erasure-type quirk. Similar to Aizawa-sensei's, but much more potent. I believe this is the 'Null' you are referring to, yes?"
Endeavor turned to face him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Yes, we believe he's directly linked to Ingenium's death, the League of Villains, and by association the hero killer: Stain. What do you know?"
Iida paused for a moment, clearly gathering his thoughts. "I am aware of the scope of his crimes, and I am aware that he is likely in league with the villains responsible for the recent attack."
Shoto locked down on his feelings hard. How could he!? Did he not realize what these bastards would do if-
"I can also say with certainty that he is not here."
Shoto blinked, letting out a silent breath as the room stared.
"I've gotten to know Toga, no, Himiko-san since she started at UA. I was suspicious of her, due to her past, as well as her participation in the Principal's special program. I acted rudely, in a manner unbecoming of my position. However," he sighed, running a hand down his face. "I made a lot of mistakes. If not for my classmates, I would likely be dead. Himiko-san is very clearly not the type of person who would hurt Tensei like that. Whoever that monster is, I can say with certainty that no UA student fits that description, nor anyone here. Himiko-san has acted like more of a hero than me this past week. I apologize, Endeavor-san, Sir, but it appears that you've been given a false lead."
The room stood in silence for another minute, Toga giving Iida a completely unreadable look.
The agent sighed. "What a mess. Endeavor, enough. We have more leads to follow up on, let's not waste any more time here. Iida-san, my condolences for your brother. I appreciate your cooperation. Please let us know if you hear anything, your mother has my card."
Iida bowed his head, further cementing the new bizarre reality where Iida, rules-lawyer, 'don't run in the halls' Iida, could look a high-authority figure in the eyes and lie to them.
"Of course, sir. My brother was a most upstanding hero. He would want villains to face justice for their crimes."
With one last glare, promising some form of retribution, Endeavor followed the man out of the room, lead onwards by the detective and a still-fuming Present Mic. Aizawa remained for a moment, lingering in the door.
"We tried out best to ward them off, but no luck. Bureaucrats." he sneered, before his features softened in a way that Shoto was not used to seeing on adults. "You kids alright? Relatively, I mean."
Lost for words, Shoto simply shrugged. Bakugo rolled his eyes, while Iida let out an excitable "Yes, Sensei! Thank you for taking the time to check on us!"
"Hm. And Himiko-san? I was told you didn't see any action. Were you injured?"
Toga smiled, a bit unsure.
…was she trembling?
"Ah, n-no, I'm fine. J-just-" a cough wracked her body. Shoto could see tears building in her eyes.
"J-just, um, a-alot. Can w-we…have some time alone, please? E-eraserhead?" the shaking was getting worse. Aizawa had definitely noticed, a stern frown on his face. He took a step forward, but Manual grabbed his arm.
"Let's give them some time to decompress before someone else starts asking questions. Himiko-san? Ollie and Jess say you did a great job. And, well, for any other UA students in earshot…thank you for making it back safe, and for saving all that you could. We'll talk later, okay?"
A round of nods, and the last of the adults left the room, the door clicking shut behind them.
Five seconds passed. Then ten. Fifteen.
Toga fell to her knees, hands cupped over her mouth as horrible coughing and wheezing escaped her. Spackles of red hit the floor…was that blood? Why was there blood!?
"Izu!"
All their heads whipped towards the bathroom as a second Himiko appeared, seemingly out of thin air, wearing the same UA uniform she'd worn before. She slid to her knees beside her twin, rubbing circles in her back as she…melted?
The…not-Toga? Turned to gray goop that slopped onto the ground, pooling in small puddles before evaporating. Underneath, Midoriya emerged, coughing more blood onto the ground and somehow looking even worse than before.
"Dammit! Izu, I told you this was a bad idea! That quirk is no good, it just hurt-"
"Stop, Himiko." The girl froze at the firmness of his tone, coarse as his voice was. "Transform is exactly what I needed. It's a great quirk. It was just too soon for me to-" another round of coughing cut him off. Looking frightened, Toga led Midoriya back to his bed, helping him settle as the hacking fit turned into choppy, wet breaths.
The next ten minutes were spent in tense silence. Shoto watched as Himiko and Midoriya whispered between themselves, the latter hacking up more blood and nearly passing out more than once. Iida's brows were furrowed, but he said nothing. Bakugo stared at the exchange like everyone had grown a second head.
"Care to explain what the fuck that was? Who's fucking quirk was that, Deku?"
"Stop calling him that!" Shoto shrunk in on himself again as Toga leveled Bakugo with a glare nothing short of murderous-
Oh. She had apparently killed someone, hadn't she?
A shaking hand grasped Toga's own as Midoriya caught his breath. After collecting himself, he looked at Bakugo, deep bags beneath his eyes.
"Katsuki. Please, shut the fuck up."
His glare was returned with equal force. "You gonna make me?"
Despite his tone, Shoto was familiar with fear. Was Bakugo…scared?
After another tense moment, Midoriya sighed. "The quirk was Himiko's. She let me take it, and she can have it back whenever she wants." Said girl gained a sour look at that, but didn't argue the point. "Listen, I…you guys probably want an explanation. There's…not really a short one. I don't even know where to start."
Toga reached out, taking his hand gingerly. "Izu, you don't have to tell them if you don't want to."
Midoriya sighed. "Bakugo here knows most of it already, since we grew up together. I…I wanted to tell you the rest at some point, and Iida and Todoroki saw way too much for me to just brush it off…right, guys?"
Iida looked conflicted, but nodded, clearly wanting answers. Shoto shrugged, he really had no idea what to think at this point.
Toga frowned. "If you're sure…"
"I'm really not, but now's a good as time as any. Just…help me keep an ear on the door, okay? I don't need anyone else hearing this."
Toga nodded. Over the next few minutes, she scanned the room with her phone, before leaning against the door.
"Good to go!" Had she been checking for cameras? That was…odd. Useful, though. "Where do you wanna start?"
Midoriya looked at Bakugo. Bakugo looked back, saying nothing.
He sighed. "My quirk came in spontaneously when I was eight years old. My mom pulled me from school after an…incident, but even before then she'd always been…paranoid. To be honest, a lot of stuff about my childhood doesn't really make sense."
"Aunty was always fucking paranoid." Bakugo cut in, looking down at the blankets on his bed. "That's what my old hag always said. She was always glancing over her shoulder, like something was out to get her."
Midoriya nodded. "And that was before my quirk came in. After…after that day? Well…" he paused, and strangely enough, locked eyes with Shoto. Something unknown lingered there, a darkness amongst bright green.
"That part isn't important right now, really. I guess…I guess you could say it all started with Endeavor…"
Chapter 91: Deleter
Akatani Mikumo sat at the table, swinging his feet as he hummed a tuneless song to himself.
He was finally feeling like himself again, after days of…weirdness. His…quirk accident with Kacchan had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and a weirdly empty feeling in his chest. He hoped he'd get the chance to see the other boy again, to apologize. Maybe he could try out his quirk again.
"Okay sweetie, dinner is ready! Sorry it took so long!" He glanced up at Mom, green hair frizzed and messy, subtle bags beneath her eyes. She'd been so stressed lately, more than usual. Even then, she always smiled when she looked at him, even though his quirk was scary.
Even if he did a bad thing. Even if he scared Kacchan.
Being home from school had been…nice. He wasn't getting picked on anymore, and he and Mom had spent a ton of time together! She let him stay up late with her, and watch the new All Might movie, even though it was rated PG-13!
And she'd made Katsudon tonight, which was awesome.
But…
"Are you okay, momma?" Mom paused, food held between her oven mitts. Something passed over her expression, but it was gone before he could figure out what it was.
"What do you mean, love? Everything's fine!"
That…was a lie. Mikumo had gotten pretty good at reading his mother's facial expressions. Normally, knowing she was lying to him would upset him, but…it seemed like she was trying to be cheerful for him. Maybe he should just let it go…
He smiled at her, big and bright as he could. "Okay!" He saw a wave of relief wash over her, and decided he'd made the right choice.
Whatever was going on, she could tell him later. As long as she was happy.
CRASH!
That happiness wasn't meant to last.
Before Mikumo could even register what had happened, what that noise was, Mom had dropped the food, the dish shattering against the floor, and dove over the table at him. He was wrapped in her arms as glass pelted them like rain, but Mom was already backing up, towards the front door.
Did he smell smoke?
An orange light caught his attention, and he wriggled in his mother's grip until he caught sight of the source.
A man stood, nearly as tall as All Might himself, but very different in presence. A dark blue jumpsuit with glowing orange patches. Bright red hair, with flickering flames across his features.
Piercing blue eyes, filled with disdain.
Mikumo gaped at the number two hero: Endeavor. The man had crashed straight through the door to their little balcony, which was impressive, considering they were on the seventh floor.
There was another man, laid out at his feet. He was dressed in dark clothes, mostly leather, with tattoos on his neck. A villain?
The hero looked down. "Well?"
The man coughed, opening one bleary eye as he looked at the two of them, then glancing back to Endeavor.
"Yeah, that's her. Now, you gonna let me go, or do I haveta-"
Crunch.
Mikumo gasped as the hero's boot came down on the man's neck hard. There was a horrible sound, and the man moved no more. Was he asleep?
Those horrible blue eyes trailed over him, before locking onto his mother. His lips curled up in a snarl.
"Found you."
Mikumo noticed his mother shift his weight to the side, freeing one of her hands. It made an odd, clawing shape, like it did when she dropped the remote or-
He gasped as he felt something stir within him. His hand ghosted over her's, and he could feel it. She was about to use her quirk on Endeavor. But why?
"Mom? What's going on?"
"Not now, Mikumo." Mom said, teeth grit. Her eyes glowed ever-so-slightly, and a vein bulged on her forehead. What was she doing?
SHIINNNNNGG!
A harsh ringing sound filled the room, as all the knives from the kitchen took flight, aimed at the hero's head why was she attacking a hero what was happening-
Endeavor blasted forwards, trails of fire licking at the cheap carpet. The knives missed their mark as he was close too close everything was too hot-
"Flashfire Fist!"
…
…
…
…
…
Mikumo…didn't remember much of what happened after that.
He remembered mom throwing him to the side, and things got very warm. The apartment was on fire.
There was a hole in the wall.
Mom yelled something. He couldn't hear it past the ringing in his ears.
Why was this happening? Why was Endeavor fighting his mom? She wasn't a villain!
…
Why was his mom fighting back? How was she fighting back?
He remembered frantic motions, thrown furniture. Kicking and punching, even a piece of drywall. Wasn't Mom's quirk supposed to be weak?
Then again, it felt really strong, didn't it? Maybe she just didn't use it that much…
Smoke filled the room, and Mikumo started coughing too much to really see what happened next. All he remembered was a hand, far too hot and big to be his mother's, reaching for him, singing the skin and burning-
Mom screamed.
Something groaned, loud and low. It felt like the world titled on its side.
A roar. A shift. Falling.
Endeavor yelling. More fire.
Thin arms wrapped around him, warm and safe.
Mikumo fell.
…
…
…
He woke, unsure how much time had passed.
Everything was hazy. Something wet was running in his left eye, and his feet hurt. His chest hurt, too. He coughed, tasting smoke and ash and what was probably bits of building. He wiped his eyes frantically, trying to piece together what the heck was happening-
"Mom!"
Gathering his bearings, his worst fears had come to fruition: The building had fallen around them. Their little apartment, his home, was gone. Endeavor had knocked it over. Or had mom done that?
But why? He didn't understand any of this why why why-
"Miku…here. Come here, baby, please."
His mom's voice, wet and scratchy, sounded through the rubble and fire. He scrambled, scraping already raw knees and palms on glass and brick, but he didn't care, Mom needed help, he could help, he wanted to be a hero-
Oh.
Mom was…not very okay.
She was face down, mostly buried beneath a pile of debris. Feeling detached, he vaguely recognized the shape of their kitchen cabinets, and the wallpaper from the bathroom.
A brick crashed to the ground behind him, toppled from the shifting of rubble. That snapped him out of it.
"Mom! I'll get you out!"
He crawled up to the pile, moving and tossing things aside with all the meager strength his body had to offer. It was slow, arduous, painful. There were little fires everywhere. His eyes and throat burned from the smoke, his hands bled, he hurt and he was dizzy and he was so tired but Mom needed help he'd be a hero for her-
CRASH!
Mom flinched at the noise, sucking in a wet gasp. Why did she sound like that?
"Mikumo, you need to go."
He looked back at the woman, uncomprehending. "W-what? No! Mom, I can save you! Just…just h-hold on, I can-"
Her hand reached out, sliding against his cheek, like she'd done a million times. After every nightmare, every bad day at school, every skinned knee and papercut and-
Mikumo wiped his tears on his arm, mixing them with blood and ash. "I-I'm strong! I can move this stuff! Or…o-or I can use your quirk! I can do it!" His fingernails cracked and bled as he started trying to ply the ruined cabinets into smaller pieces to move them. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this-
"DID YOU THINK THAT WOULD SAVE YOU!? A desperate attempt! You'll get what's coming to you, scum!"
Mom coughed, staining the ground in red…why was it red?
"Mikumo…"
He shook his head, fat tears obscuring his vision he needed to stop crying and help-
"It's too late, sweetie. Look."
He opened his eyes. His mother shifted slightly, wincing in pain. There was a slowly growing pool of red beneath her. Her breathing had grown choppy, her voice quieter.
"Got stabbed by a pipe. Figures." she smiled, without humor, but frowned again, like she did when he'd gotten in trouble. "I need you to listen to me."
He stared, wide-eyed. He didn't get it. What was happening what was happening why was this happening-
CRASH!
"Search the rubble! I want to see a body!"
More voices joined Endeavor's after a moment. Would the heroes help?
Or were the heroes rotten? They did this, didn't they? He didn't understand why.
The hand was back, cradling his cheek like a precious gemstone, or a delicate vase. It slid down, grasping his own hand and bringing it to her own cheek.
He used his free hand, clearing his tears as best he could. He'd seen a lot of looks on his mom's face over the years. He'd seen her stressed, and happy, and sad, and angry. He'd seen her cry at a sad movie, and he'd seen her cry from laughing too hard when he'd sprayed milk out of his nose.
He'd seen the strange look on her face when he'd asked her where Dad was. He'd seen her glance towards the window with fear in her eyes.
He'd seen her stare down the hero who'd invaded their home. He saw her attempt to kill him.
Why was any of this happening? Why wasn't he strong enough to save Mom-
"Mikumo. Bad people are coming, and more will be looking for you."
He paused. "W-what?"
Silent tears streamed down her face. Her smile was pained, but he could see the love in it. Her quirk pulsed beneath her skin, like a lighthouse on a foggy night. It felt loose, it felt flowy, it felt happy.
It felt like love.
"I'm sorry I can't tell you more. I n-never wanted you to know."
"Mom, what are you-"
CRASH!
"Three things. Three things, Mikumo. You can't everforget. Okay?"
"Mom, I-"
"Mikumo!" she'd never used that tone with him before. He nodded dumbly, and her expression smoothed into something serious, but incredibly sad.
"O-one. Keep your quirk a secret. Bad people will use it for bad things."
One.
"Two." More tears covered her face, her voice coming out messy and garbled. "You're a good boy, Mikumo. My Izuku. Grow up strong, grow up happy, and grow up good. I know you can, baby. I've always known."
Two.
Mikumo still stared. The pool of red had gotten bigger. Mom looked so pale. He went to reach for more stuff to move, but she held his hand firmly against her cheek, rooting him in place.
"Three. I will always, always, be with you. Whenever you need me, I will always be with you. Do you understand?"
Three.
He started to shake his head, of course he didn't understand he didn't understand anything-
CRASH!
"Over here!"
Her grip on him tightened. "Say them back to me, now. Three things."
"I-I-"
"Now, sweetie."
"H-hide my quirk." One. Mom nodded.
"G-grow up, g-g-g-good. Y-your Izuku." She'd told him that once, after a really bad day. She'd wanted to name him Izuku, but Dad had talked her out of it. She told him that Izuku was closer to her given name, that it sounded like the name of a hero. The hero she knew he could be, one day. She'd used the nickname to cheer him up on bad days ever since. It made him feel like she believed in him, even when no one else did.
Two.
"Third thing."
Third thing…. "You'll always be with me?"
Three.
She smiled at him, eyes bright and loving, but growing darker by the moment. He could see Endeavor's fire peaking over some nearby rubble.
He felt true fear for the very first time.
"Good…." her hand squeezed his against her cheek, tight enough to hurt.
"Take my quirk, Mikumo. Take it and run, and don't look back."
His world froze.
His world crashed down around him.
He stared, gaped, silently pleading for her to say no, to say it was all wrong that this was some kind of sick, twisted joke-
CRASH!
"NOW, MIKUMO!"
His palm flashed bright red. Mom's tears stopped, a smile blooming across her face as she closed her eyes, slumping against the ground.
Her quirk filled the gaping void in his chest, a single star amongst the darkness.
Her hand fell from his own.
Mikumo ran.
Smoke and fire burned his lungs, tears burned his eyes, cuts burned his skin.
Grief burned his heart, scarring it in a way that may never heal despite the pulsing energy in his chest.
He made it two, maybe three buildings down before he fell. He was tired, and dizzy, and he wanted Mom back he didn't want this he hated this-
"Oh, dear. Are you alright, hon?"
His head snapped up. A woman was crouched in front of him, looking like she just came from work. She had dark blue hair that looked like thin rocks, and both it and her deep blue eyes were glowing with some kind of flickering light. She had a soft frown on her face, eyes sympathetic.
Mikumo was so tired, and confused.
"M-my mom was, w-was in the b-building! Our building f-fell and s-she-" his babbling quickly turned into hysterics, but he choked the tears down, Mom told him to run he had to run-
"Here, let me help." She reached out, brushing a tear from his cheek but not like Mom something was wrong why was she smiling like that-
Something sharp and hot and painful coursed through his body. His joints locked and his hair stood on end. He may have screamed.
His eyes rolled back, and he hit the ground in a heap. He vaguely heard the woman's voice again before he lost consciousness.
"Sir, the boy is in custody. The mission was a success, asset retrieved."
—----------------------------------
It was a long time before Mikumo came to again. Longer still before he understood. A few things were clear.
Mom was gone. That was obvious. She would've come to get him by now. From wherever he was. He could also still feel her quirk, softly thrumming within his own. He had yet to reach for it. He'd spent the first hour after he'd woken up sobbing, and mourning. That was all the time he was allowed before he started to take in more details.
He had no idea where he had ended up. The walls were plain and gray, and he had yet to see a single window. He'd spent what felt like hours getting checked over by a doctor, some lady with a neat bug quirk, but before long he'd been shepherded to a different area entirely.
This room was bigger, and a bit more colorful. The far wall was lined with five bunk beds, while the rest of the walls were either covered in what looked like crayon, random pieces of paper taped or tacked up, or the occasional burn or scratch mark. The center of the room had a few round tables, big enough to sit four or five people, covered in various books, school supplies, and a few other odds and ends. He idly noticed that one of the tables looked a bit…melted? The side was drooping.
More importantly, there were other people here, other kids here.
They seemed to range in age, from about his age, at least as best he could tell, to teenagers, with a mix of boys and girls. As Mikumo's chaperone, some blonde lady in a suit that hadn't bothered introducing herself, ferried him in, all eyes snapped towards them. Items and conversation alike were dropped, and all the children stood in a vaguely neat line in the center of the room.
"Children, this will be our newest recruit. He'll be sent in for his first examination in just a few minutes, but we wanted him to meet you, first."
Was he imagining it, or did a few of the other kids suppress a wince at that?
A hand shot up, a young teenage boy with blue hair and slitted green eyes.
"Yes, Panther?"
"What's his quirk? Does he have a codename yet?" Codename?
"To be determined. He's new to the program. Let's see….Bestia, introduce yourself, and give our new friend here a brief overview of the program."
"[Yes, ma'am!]" Mikumo blinked at the foreign language…was that English? The girl who had spoken had blonde hair in a messy bob, tanned skin, and bright blue eyes. She was…a few years older than him? Probably?
She continued in stiff, if pretty understandable, Japanese. "My name is Bestia! My quirk lets me turn into animals! This is the Paladin Program, where talented children train to become the best heroes in the world!"
Reactions to that were…mixed. His chaperone nodded with approval, and a few of the kids' eyes lit up in excitement. A few others, however, namely the blue-haired boy from before, as well as a boy with white hair and nasty-looking burns on his face, both rolled their eyes. A third boy, with hunched posture and straight black hair, didn't seem to be listening at all.
"Very good. You see young man, you've been chosen as one of the elite. You have the potential to do great things, and we are here to help you reach that potential. You want to be a hero, right?"
Mikumo nodded, but flinched when she pinched his shoulder.
"Answer aloud when someone asks you a question."
"Uh, y-yes, ma'am!" His voice cracked, hoarse from the tears he'd cried throughout the day.
She nodded, before turning on her heel and walking towards the door.
"Excellent. Now come along. It is time for your assessment."
Mikumo followed numbly, but turned back towards the group. Now that the lady had turned her back, their posture had slumped, but nobody had moved yet. He saw a few of the kids giving him weird looks. That made sense, he thought, he didn't even know what he was doing here.
But a thought occurred once they were down the hall. A few of those looks had been…oddly sad.
Almost like they were mourning him.
—-----------------------------
"Okay, young man, explain to us what your quirk does. It says here you're listed as quirkless, but we heard a report of you robbing someone else of their own quirk."
Something pulsed in his chest, painful and groggy.
"Keep your quirk a secret. Bad people will use it for bad things."
"I-I can…stop people from using their quirks. I-I'm not stealing! It just…turns off?"
"Well, we can test that. Bring in subject 0435!"
The tests went on for hours. Shocks and scalpels and people so many people quirk after quirk after quirk it hurt it hurt it hurt-
"And you're SURE you can't use their quirks? It seems like their quirk factor disappears entirely once you touch them."
Mikumo shook his head for the hundredth time, wincing at the pinch on his shoulder.
"I-I'm sure. It's just turning them off!"
"Let's keep testing."
More tests, more pain, more victims.
He made sure to give them all their quirks back, no matter how much it hurt him.
"Alright, that's all the data we need for now. Looks like a dead end on the useage, but even so that quirk has a lot of potential. More even than that Eraserhead we've been looking into."
He managed to lie to them. Would Mom be proud?
"Alright, let's get you back to bed. The real training starts tomorrow."
Would it be worth the cost?
"So, what's your name?" The boy with the red wings asked. "I'm Keigo, but call me Hawks!"
"M-Mikumo."
"Yeah? And what name did they give you? They gave you one, right? You lived, after all." said the burned boy, glowering from his own bed. The blonde, Keigo, shot him a look, but still turned to him expectantly.
His chest hurt. His head hurt. His heart hurt he wanted his mom back, where was he why was he here, why couldn't he have his mom back-
"Kid? Mikumo? You with us?" Keigo asked crouching down and putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Y-yeah. S-sorry."
"Stop crying, pipsqueak! Tell us your damn name already!" The blue boy shouted, looking cross.
What was the name they gave him? Something to do with his quirk, right? He was so tired.
…
…ah, right.
"I'm Deleter."
Chapter 92: Contested
As the days passed, Mikumo became more used to his new life as a hero-to-be.
It was grueling, and easily the hardest thing he had ever done. Exercises that lasted hours, drills that persisted until one or more of the candidates were puking on the sidelines, weeks worth of school education crammed into a single day.
Mikumo was getting stronger, but it felt like he was getting beaten down at the same time.
They taught him skills, like martial arts, parkour, and lockpicking. He increased his strength, agility, flexibility, and general fitness. Meals were planned down to the calorie, no deviation allowed.
Then there was the quirk training.
"Alright, Deleter. Today, you'll be using your quirk on a volunteer to see how long it actually lasts. We need to know if the erasure is permanent."
Why was this man tied up if he was a volunteer? Was he wearing a muzzle?
He refused at first, but then they brought in one of the other kids, the boy with black hair.
"You can either use your quirk on the volunteer, or on Gargoyle, here. Take your pick. We need to see how you effect transformation quirks, and how long it lasts."
Mikumo had refused at first. When he did, one of the men in white coats came in, strapping him and the other boy to adjacent chairs. They said he couldn't go until he used his quirk.
He sat there for an hour before the shocks started.
He took the boy's quirk, he barely reacted but he could tell how much it hurt. At least he was able to give it back once he agreed to the rest of the tests.
Then he had to use it on the man with the muzzle. He took the quirk, something weird and spikey. The man screamed.
They wheeled him out, and Mikumo never saw him again.
A second quirk with a permanent place in his chest.
He deserves it m o r e.
He'd collapse back into his bed at the end of each day, exhausted and sore in ways he could never have imagined. The others were usually about the same.
The others…that was another thing.
There were eight of them, including him. Best he could tell, most of them were…orphans, just like him, or had apparently been sold to the Hero Commission. Could that even happen? According to Pyre it could.
There were eight of them at the start. A wide range of quirks, ages, personalities, and talents. They were meant to be the best of the best, the heroes of the rising generation. Shining lights in the dark, comparable to All Might at his prime.
That's what they were told. That was not what happened.
The first was an accident, or so they were told.
Bestia, the charming American girl with the shapeshifting quirk, had left for training one day, just as usual, but had come back looking pale and shaken.
"A quirk awakening." she had said. "I could only turn into an animal if I've seen it before. Something…happened, today. I turned into…something else. I imagined myself as a dragon."
The others looked at the girl in awe, even Panther, who was a lot more standoffish than the others. "Why the hell do you look so beat up then!? That's awesome!"
The girl shrugged, sitting at the foot of her bed.
"It hurt. It hurt a lot."
After that night, all of their quirk training had been postponed…except for Bestia's. She, instead, had quirk training every single day, in place of most of her other lessons.
He had been curious. He'd watched her for weeks, just as he had the others, but he had never triedbefore.
He was so curious. He was so h u n g r y.
He approached her one night after dinner, just before lights-out, whispering so only the two of them could hear (Keigo could obviously still hear them, but chose not to comment. He was nice like that).
"Hey, Bestia?"
The girl looked at him, eyes red with burst blood vessels. Her hair had started falling out, too…
"Hm?"
"Give me your hand for a second?"
She cocked her head, the bones in her neck making a horrid clicking sound.
"Why?"
"Wanna try something."
She put her hand into his, and Mikumo gasped.
Her quirk was strong, the strongest he'd felt before. It was bright, like a lightbulb, twisting and writhing over on top of itself, like a serpent eating its own tail. It was amazing, it was…it was…
It was dying.
He 'watched' as a part of her quirk crumbled into nothingness, becoming slightly smaller than it was before. The bright yellow dulled into a pale-beige color.
He opened his eyes in utter shock, but to his horror, Bestia had already fallen asleep where she sat.
---------------------
Zara, their primary handler, had come to retrieve her the next day for her quirk training. She looked terrible. Pale and shaky, with a noticeable wobble to her step.
"Come, Bestia. We have significant progress to make today."
Bestia went to stand, but Mikumo put a hand on her shoulder (had she lost weight? She was so thin…)
"U-um, excuse me, Z-Zara-sensei?" he stuttered out. A few of the other kids looked at him in shock. Their handlers typically did not respond well to questioning.
"What is it, Deleter? We have a schedule to keep." he said, eyes narrowed.
"Bestia looks, um, sick. I-I don't think it would be a good idea for her to train today."
"T-that's right!" One of the other girls said, standing up to join him. She was the oldest of the bunch, with a bob of dark greenish-blue hair. Her quirk let her summon blizzards around her, though she couldn't move while it was active. Her codename was Snowstorm.
"R-Rachel's been off the last few days-eep!" the girl flinched as a blob of silky spider webs latched itself over her mouth. She tore at it in a panic, but only succeeded in getting it tangled in her fingers. Zara's hand was extended, a cold look on his face.
"There is nobody here by that name. Do not make that mistake again. Second, Deleter, you have no business interfering in the training regiments when you yourself have been performing so poorly. Once Bestia's supplemental lessons are through, I think we'll start you on a more advanced training program. Bestia, to me. We've wasted enough time here."
Mikumo went to say something, anything, but a thin hand rested on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Bestia smiled at him, before turning and leaving.
She never came back.
—-------------------------
True to his word, once Bestia was gone, the rest of them saw a noticeable uptick in their training. Mikumo wasn't always privy to what the others were doing, but a few things usually stuck out.
Panther's fingers would often bleed, the wicked-looking claws at the end of his hands chipped and split. Pyre would reek of smoke and burned flesh, and was usually wrapped in bandages. Snowstorm would have blue lips and a bloody nose. Hawks would rub and preen at his wings more than usual, claiming the feathers were sore. Gargoyle, the quiet boy, didn't really show many signs of quirk exhaustion, but Mikumo did notice the boy eating a lot more than usual.
The final member of their little group, dubbed Twister, had it the worst. She was a short girl with green hair, a rude personality, and she pretty much hated everyone. Even so, Snowstorm always attempted to smooth things over before a fight could break out. Whatever her quirk did, whatever training it involved, it usually left her comatose for a day or more at a time. Someone would be assigned to watch her until she woke, but even when she did, she usually didn't return to normal for an extra day or so after that, staying quiet and subdued until one of them (usually Panther or Pyre) made her mad enough to lash out again.
Mikumo himself was, unfortunately, getting better with his own quirk. He often went to bed with a sore chest and frazzled nerves, but he was learning. He could take quirks and give them back much faster now, and had worked on lessening the amount of pain it caused. He'd even practiced moving his current stockpile of quirks around in his chest. He never openly used them, since he was sure there were hidden cameras in their room somewhere, but he at least knew how to call on them, should he ever want to.
This came with a few…less than pleasant discoveries as well.
He learned he could take quirks from a corpse, so long as they weren't dead too long. The nice hero man had died nine hours into their training session, and then they made him use his quirk on his body again anyways, just to test it.
He learned he could take mutation quirks, watching as a man drowned in dry air, staring at Izuku in abject horror as his body was changed so drastically the shock killed him.
He learned what the Commission did to the villains they didn't like. Dictator screamed over and over and over again as they made him torture the man. They told him what the man's crimes were, but Mikumo never ended up deciding whether he deserved the treatment or not.
He was better with his quirk. He was stronger, faster, more deadly. He could pick a lock in under a minute and strangle someone with dental floss, at least in theory. He could fall from over five meters up and hit the ground in a harmless roll, and he could bounce from wall to wall to vault over obstacles.
He was improving, but he wondered why, sometimes.
The handlers, as they'd been called since he arrived here, all preached the same thing. The Paladin Program made them special. They would be special heroes. They would be the best heroes. They would save the world, and everyone in it.
Mikumo had wanted to be a hero, when he was little. When Hawks had asked him, he had agreed wholeheartedly.
That was at the beginning. Now he wasn't so sure.
He did want to be a hero, but was it worth the cost? Was it worth more people dying?
He was going to find out. A little over a year into Mikumo's training, the competition began.
—--------------------------
"The Higher-Ups have decided that you've all made sufficient progress. Therefore, we'll be advancing everyone to the next stage of the program."
It was a rare event, for all seven of them not eight anymore Bestia was dead to be gathered at once outside of mealtimes. Given their different quirks and ages, they usually worked on different things.
Today, they stood in a line inside a large open room. There was little detail, other than the cameras along the ceiling and a slightly raised square platform in the center of the room…maybe thirty or so feet on a side?
"Today will mark the beginning of a competition of sorts. You'll be competing with one another through various trials, though it will typically involve combat."
Panther, ever the courageous one, raised a hand. When their handler nodded, he smirked.
"So, what's the winner get? You said it was a contest, right? Don't contests usually have prizes?"
Zara nodded. "Indeed. We felt it fruitless to challenge you in this way without some kind of incentive." The man sighed, straightening the lapels on his ever-flawless suit jacket. "The winner will receive three extra hours of recreation time, per week. They will also be given the choice between a selection of library books, or one hour of monitored internet access during their extra hours."
The group of them gasped. They only got a few hours to themselves each week! An extra three hours!? Not to mention the internet! That sounded amazing!
"That being said, there is a catch." The mood sobered instantly as Zara's face darkened. "You're here to become the ultimate heroes. Protectors of our superhuman society. Failure will not be tolerated." The man walked over to a small table set up near the closest wall, grabbing a clip board sitting atop it.
"Whoever comes in last place will be dropped from the Paladin Program."
Mikumo frowned. He thought that none of them were really here by choice, more by circumstance. It's not like they were allowed to just…leave, right? He glanced at Snowstorm. As the oldest, she'd been here the longest, so she probably had an idea what-
The girl was shaking, desperately trying to school her pale face into something neutral, her pupils pinpricks in her eyes.
What was she so scared of?
It wouldn't be long before they found out.
—-----------------------------------------
Where before the group of them had a sort of tentative comradery, now there was only tension.
Every single lesson, every quirk test, every push up and spar and swim and everything else was scored. They didn't even explain the scoring system to them, but whenever they returned to their room at the end of the day, there it was, on a newly-installed screen in the wall.
Each of them had a number of points, ranking them one through seven, with the bottom name appearing in red. It changed frequently, nearly daily. Because they had no idea how long the 'competition' was going to last, whoever's name was at the bottom of the list broke themselves in training, trying to improve their scores and edge ahead.
The whole thing just made Mikumo anxious (or more anxious at least). He never liked these types of contests. It felt like the kind of thing Kacchan would excel at.
Panther had started reminding him of the explosive boy, a little bit. He was usually in one of the top three spots, and had no problems boasting about it to the others. He and Pyre had actually come to blows over it a few times, even though Pyre didn't actually seem to care about his placement much. Apparently he'd been making progress with his quirk, and that alone netted him a fair number of points.
Twister and Snowstorm usually did pretty well, too, constantly jockeying between second and fourth place with Panther. Their little rivalry seemed a bit…healthier than the boys'. Or at least less outwardly violent.
Mikumo, being among the youngest and least-experienced, usually skated by at fifth or sixth place, depending on how Pyre was feeling that day. He was only really kept ahead because his quirk tests had been going well, and because he was good at the school subjects. His martial scores were quite good, but not great, and his aim with firearms was still awful.
Even so, almost a month in and Gargoyle had taken a near-permanent position in last place.
The boy just didn't seem to care. He showed up to everything on time, went through the motions, listened to the handlers, but he never really seemed to be there. Pyre called him 'a depressed bastard', while Keigo just kept saying he 'was working through some stuff'.
Keigo was on another level entirely.
He still preferred to be called Hawks, but Pyre had insisted that they call him Keigo, probably to spite him. Regardless, the boy was talented beyond belief. He excelled in every subject. Could use every weapon. Passed, aced, every single test.
And his quirk. Fierce Wings was the first quirk Mikumo had actively salivated over. It could do so much! Flight was one thing, control of additional limbs was another, but the quirk came with a specialized telekinesis! AND he could detect vibrations through the feathers!? It was ridiculous! It was…it was so cool!
Mikumo wanted it he needed it he needed to t a k e i t
But it was more than that. If it hadn't been for Keigo, the group of them probably would've imploded by now. Despite his complete monopoly of the first place slot, Keigo was always working hard, and kept everyone smiling as best he could.
He would put his wings around Mikumo after a long day, when his chest ached like death and the absence of his mother wore on him.
He braided Snowstorm's hair, after she'd offhandedly mentioned she'd never had someone do it before.
He arm wrestled Panther whenever the other boy wanted to blow off some steam.
He would read next to Gargoyle during recreation time, silent but appreciated company.
He bantered with Twister on her bad days, slowly but surely bringing her out of her quirk-induced funk. Even though she yelled, she was always grinning by the end of it, back turned towards them.
He listened to Pyre. Listened to him after one too many burns, when frustrated tears fell from his eyes.
He listened to him talk about Endeavor. The training he had gone through to be like his father. The dreams he and the man had shared.
The dream that had shattered when his quirk outpaced what his body could take, and Endeavor tossed him to the side like a broken doll.
He listened to Mikumo too, when he hugged Pyre around the middle, careful of his burns. The boy had tried to shove him off, but froze solid when Mikumo tearfully recounted the night of his mother's death.
Keigo had slowly, carefully, draped his wings over the two of them as they'd cried, mourning the parents they'd never have again. Keigo had even numbly recounted his own childhood, 'less spectacular' he had called it, but no less disappointing, with criminals for parents that had never once wanted him.
"Pyre…Endeavor…he…I don't know what to say. He inspired me to be a hero! I don't…I don't know why he would just give up like that. I…I'm so sorry."
Mikumo squeezed his arms around Pyre a bit harder as Keigo failed to find the words. "Sorry, Pyre."
The boy stared into the distance blankly. Blue eyes bright with something Mikumo wouldn't understand for a long time.
"Call me Touya."
—-------------------------------
The three of them became closer. They trained together when they were allowed to, and gave each other advice when they couldn't.
Mikumo picked Touya's quirk apart as best he could. At night, he would rest his hand against the older boy's arm, memorizing every flicker and spark of the blinding ball of blue and red flames within him. He'd been tempted to take it a few times, but his mother's warning always held him back, barely.
Keigo helped them both with their combat. Touya abhorred hand to hand, and sucked at it, but even he improved under Keigo's watchful eye. He helped Mikumo learn to wield swords, practicing with dulled feather-blades in the early hours of the morning.
Touya wavered between complete determination and this…sense of emptiness. Sometimes, he'd be on board for being the best hero he could be, to prove his father wrong if nothing else, but sometimes Mikumo would look at him and see…someone else. His eyes would change, looking somewhere between empty and distant. His smile would be crooked, and he'd come back with more burns than usual. Even so, he still helped.
Touya kept them sane. He'd crack jokes under his breath, even when the handlers punished him for it. He'd bait Panther into stupid games and challenges, things to do that weren't just fighting. He teased Twister, and spent an entire training session just melting all of Snowstorm's blizzards just because he thought it'd be funny. He gave Keigo time to vent, to not be so on all the time. Let him be a tired kid too, instead of just an example of success for the rest of them.
Three months went by, and their little slice of peace was shattered.
"Today will begin your next round of assessments. We'll be doing one on one combat, based on your rankings. This will be the final day for them, so take a look." The group stiffened as the man held aloft a tablet, familiar words burning into their brains.
HawksPyrePantherBlizzardTwisterDeleterGargoyleMikumo internally sulked at his poor showing, but he was the youngest. Even that was overshadowed by his pride in Touya's progress as of late.
"Huh!? Second?! I was second just this morning! We haven't even DONE anything today!" Panther cried out, looking completely aghast. He'd always taken the ranking more seriously than the rest of them.
"Silence, Panther. Do not speak out of turn."
"But I-" Whatever he was about to say was cut off as a sharp quill punctured the ground between his feet. This particular handler had a porcupine quirk, and he was never shy about using it when they got 'rowdy'. Mikumo didn't care for him.
"We'll begin immediately. By the end of the day, you'll all have fought, so no complaining about brackets. First match: Deleter and Twister."
The day carried on, long and brutal. There was only one rule: you don't lose until you can't go on anymore. 'Because that's the standard villains will hold you to'. Restraints did count, though they didn't have any rope or anything, so it was usually decided by whoever got knocked out first. It wasn't pretty.
Blizzard had given three of them frostbite. Touya had burned himself more than anyone else, and Keigo had accidentally slit an artery on Twister that required actual medical attention. Even Mikumo was not immune to accidents, and had actually broken Panther's arm during their own spar when he reacted to a sneak attack on instinct.
Those claws were dangerous.
Panther and Touya, being the most aggressive among them, were both getting more riled up as the day went on, until it was finally time for the two of them to face off.
"Begin!"
Panther's quirk, Rend, allowed him to stockpile energy in his claws, unleashing it as pure cutting force. It basically allowed him to cut through anything. Versatile and powerful, even more so when paired with his secondary cat mutations, which included an enhanced jump (or pounce, as he called it) and sharp teeth.
Touya though, was his worst nightmare. Each swipe, pounce, or lunge was met with a wall of hot red flames. The temperature in the room had been increasing steadily all day, until Snowstorm had started using her quirk to cool them down, even the handler.
"STOP MOVING AROUND SO MUCH, YOU CRISPY FUCK!"
Panther had always had a temper, but it usually came out the most during training. Mikumo was never really sure why, but it was easy to take advantage of.
"I dunno. I would, but you're just so slow. You some kind of fat lap-cat, or something?"
So of course Touya taunted him at every opportunity. It was a valid strategy, but only if the match ended quickly.
Which it did not.
After a few more minutes of dodging and gouts of flame, Touya's quirk sputtered and failed. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath as his skin smoked. The burn scars across his body had grown steadily darker with time, turning from a faint orange to an angry, permanent red.
"Got you now!"
Panther lunged in, claws glowing bright blue with a manic grin on his face, but when he got within reach, Touya perked up.
"Still too slow."
In a maneuver he had clearly picked up from Keigo, Touya launched his elbow right into the boy's stomach, using his own momentum against him. He slipped his ankle around the other boy's, twisting his shoulders and slamming him against the ground head-first.
Panther was out. Touya had won.
"Match: Pyre! Work on maintaining your quirk more, Pyre. Even so, keep up that improvement on your martial arts." That was as close to a compliment that any of them ever received. A good sign.
Touya nodded, rubbing his wrists and sauntering back towards the group.
"We're not…done yet." Panther was up again, bleeding sluggishly from a cut on his forehead. "Get back in the ring, crispy. I want my second place back."
"The match is over, Panther. Next up will be-"
"IT'S OVER WHEN I SAY IT'S OVER!" he took one step towards the group when another sharpened quill punctured the ground in front of him.
"Stand down, Panther. Since you're so energetic, we can do your next match instead. Gargoyle, to the ring."
The silent boy meandered into the ring, slouching. Panther glared at him, readying his claws again.
"Begin!"
This match was over faster. Gargoyle had an impressive quirk- he could literally turn parts or all of himself into a traditional gargoyle, with batlike wings and claws, but he never put much effort in. The handlers had lectured him for this over and over again, but he always said the same thing.
"I do care. This is just how I do things."
The frustrating part, especially for Panther, was that he could clearly be so much stronger if he wanted to. All of Panther's attacks were dodged with the minimum effort needed. Each pounce was countered with a flap of darkened wings. Even a surprise kick was caught, wrapped up in a leathery tail with a spike at the end.
Panther growled, bearing his teeth. "Take this seriously!"
"I am."
Another lunge, a flash of blue. Another effortless dodge.
"Don't bullshit me! You're not even trying!"
His movements became sloppy, less coordinated. From his spot on the sidelines, Mikumo could see the handler's disappointed face before he spoke.
"Panther. Finish this fight in the next ten seconds, or you'll be put in last place."
The boy froze for a second, shocked.
"Nine. Eight."
Panther rushed forwards, desperation clouding his features. Gargoyle still dodged, always just out of reach.
"Stop moving and let me hit you!"
"...why would I do that?"
"Five. Four."
"I have to! I can't- I CAN'T!" The look on Panther's face was different then normal. It was wrong something was wrong why was he panicking-
"Two, One-"
Schink!
Silence.
The group stared up with wide eyes. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word.
Panther was breathing heavily, sweaty and pale. He looked like he might be sick.
"Why…why did…"
His voice was smaller than Mikumo had ever heard it. Like a scared kid. Weren't they all just kids?
Panther looked down at his hand, currently sunk into Gargoyle's chest up to the wrist. The boy was pale and expressionless aside from a sad smile, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth.
A whisper.
"It's just how I do things."
Gargoyle's body fell to the ground with a wet thud.
"Just in time. Well done, Panther. I believe that concludes training for the day." The group stood in silent horror as the handler brought the tablet around again, the still-bleeding body of their friend dead on the floor next to them. Even Keigo was pale and uncomprehending, golden eyes flittering between the handler and the corpse.
"The second competition starts now. I expect improvement by next assessment."
HawksPantherPyreBlizzardTwisterDeleter
…Oh. They were going to have to do this again, weren't they. Mikumo stared, not understanding as Touya and Keigo looked at him in abject panic. What was the matter?
…Oh. Mikumo was in last place now, wasn't he?