Chapter 37: Early Though the Laurel Grows
Six Months Ago
U.A. Hero Course Dorms
"Kurt Cobain, right?"
"Thank you!"
The shout of gratitude burst out from Denki's lips before he even turned to locate the source of the voice in question; glancing away from the bowls of punch on the kitchen counter of Class 3-A's common room with a wide grin on his face, he felt his brows hike in surprise when his gaze landed on 3-B's Yanagi Reiko. Usually gloomy and reserved, she was almost unrecognizable tonight thanks to her costume: Her chin-length silver hair was gelled and swept decisively to one side, with a few stray strands hanging down over her forehead, and a blue and red lightning bolt was painted across her face, stretching down across her right eye to her jaw. In a far cry from the oversized t-shirts and pajama bottoms he usually saw her wearing around the dorms, Reiko had donned a sharp black vest over a white dress shirt and a loosened blue tie, striking a sleek, androgynous figure.
"Oh, sick!" Kaminari gave her an approving nod, one hand perched on his chin. "David Bowie?"
"Bingo." Reiko replied with a grin, hands shoved in the pockets of a pair of black slacks. "I wanted to go for the whole Ziggy Stardust look, but I don't think I could've pulled off the hair, and finding a jacket like that would've been way too much work."
"Well don't worry, man, you're still pulling it off way better than I am with Kurt- So far, you and Jiro are the only ones who recognized me. Everyone else just thinks I'm being lazy and dressing as myself."
He glanced down at his own costume- an olive-green cardigan over an unbuttoned lavender dress shirt and a white graphic t-shirt, Cobain's signature look from Unplugged, one of his most iconic concerts. Denki had even brought one of his guitars to help people catch on, but he'd still received looks of confusion from a majority of his classmates when he tried to explain who he was dressed as. With the Hero Course third years' Halloween party in full swing, it was safe to say that he stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the litany of ghosts, mummies, vampires, and characters from various anime.
"Kids these days, huh?" Reiko stepped up beside him and leaned back against the counter, gazing out over the rest of the party with arms crossed. "Over in 3-B, it feels like me, Togaru and Shihai are the only ones listening to the classics. Everybody else just can't stop obsessing over this new shit."
She nodded over to the portable speaker set on the coffee table in the midst of the festivities, which was currently making its way through a queue full of trendy pop and rap hits. There had been a few rock ballads interspersed with the newer music, mostly thanks to Jiro, but given that partygoers were free to add whichever songs they wanted, modern music still dominated. Music aside, though, it was still a good party by Denki's standards; Hagakure and Ashido had supplied a disco ball and strings of multicolored lights, bathing the darkened common room in a club-like atmosphere of rainbow-shaded hues, and a dozen jack-o-lanterns carved earlier in the evening were dotted throughout the room, their faces glowing with candlelight. An assortment of snacks occupying one side of the counter had already been devoured after an hour of partying, with only a few stray pumpkin-shaped cookies remaining, though there was still plenty of punch for the taking.
"Ah, it's not like it's all bad," Leaning back alongside her, Denki shrugged his shoulders. "I try and listen to everything, and there are a lot of newer bands I like too. But I gotta say," he added with a smirk, glancing over at Yanagi and nodding towards the speaker, "this song's pretty shit."
"God, thank you," Reiko replied with a sigh of relief, running one hand down her face as the peppy, staccato melody of the song in question continued to blare out over the sounds of chatter and laughter. "The chorus makes my ears bleed. I won't be surprised if Togaru cuts the speaker in half before it's over."
"Wanna bet who picked it?" Still grinning, Denki turned back toward the counter to finish filling his plastic cup with punch. "My money's on Hagakure."
"Solid guess." Reiko replied, nodding in agreement. "I could see it being Pony or Kinoko, though- they both love this type of shit."
"I wonder if Pony would get my costume," Denki mused aloud, scooping up a few extra chunks of apple and pear bobbing around in the bowl. "I haven't seen her yet, but she's gotta know Nirvana as an American, right?"
"You'd think, right? But whenever I mention music around her, all she wants to talk about is this old popstar called Taylor Swift."
"Sounds familiar," Denki replied, eyes narrowed in contemplation. "Anyway, you want some?" He glanced back towards her and gestured with the ladle, then swiftly blinked and shook his head in embarrassment. "Sorry, stupid question. No shit you want some punch, that's why you came over here."
"I came over here because I wanted to tell you that like your costume." Reiko replied, a soft smile on her lips. "But sure, I'll take some if you're offering."
Holy shit. Denki felt his heart skip a beat, his cheeks rapidly flushing with color and his brows rising in surprise; it took a great deal of mental fortitude to try and keep the shock off his face, and he wasn't entire sure whether he succeeded. No fucking way. Is she…?
No, dumbass, a second voice in his head replied, trying its best to squash his hopes with pragmatism. She's not flirting with you- don't be delusional. You've barely spoken to her for five minutes in the past two and a half years. She's just giving you a normal compliment like a normal person, so take it and don't make things weird.
Okay, fair point, the first voice replied as Denki's gaze flit briefly from Reiko's eyes to her lips and down to the casually undone first button beneath her dress shirt's collar. But was she always this hot? This costume is fucking with me, man. And is it just me, or is she acting different from usual? I guess that's a thing, right? People acting different at parties?
"S-Sure thing," Kaminari finally managed, after a momentary pause that had felt like an eternity. "Coming right up, ma'am."
'Ma'am'? Fucking 'ma'am'?! Where did that come from, moron? Are you pretending you're her waiter?
Cringing internally, Denki forced a grin back onto his face as he grabbed a second cup, then blinked again in realization.
"Oh shit, sorry- forgot to mention. I've been letting people know on the down-low, but I didn't see you before now, so maybe you didn't hear. I sort of-"
"Spiked one of the punch bowls with sake?" Yanagi finished, smirking. "Don't worry, I heard. It's this one, right?" She gestured to the bowl on the right, the one Kaminari was about to serve from, and he nodded in reply.
"…Guilty as charged."
"Wow, look at you- still Class A's resident delinquent, huh?"
"In my defense," Denki replied, his cheeks still flushed red as he attempted to maintain his nonchalant demeanor, "Ashido was the one who brought the booze. I just happened to accidentally spill some in the bowl- total slip of the hand, y'know?"
"What tragic accident," Reiko countered, arms crossed in mock disapproval. "But then again, I guess it'd be a shame to waste good punch, right?"
"Right you are, ma'am- a shame indeed."
Goddammit.
Wincing briefly in mental anguish, Denki swiftly filled a second cup and held it out in Reiko's direction with as earnest of a smile as he could manage.
"What do you wanna toast to?" Reiko asked as she took the cup in hand, still grinning despite his momentary awkwardness. "To the classics?"
"To Kurt and David," Kaminari offered after a moment's consideration.
"To Kurt and David, then," Reiko replied, clinking their plastic cups together before they took a sip in unison.
A moment of silence passed between them as they drank, and Kaminari glanced back over at the rest of the party, his gaze gravitating instinctively towards his former and current romantic interests. The first he spotted was Jiro, one of his bandmates from their ill-fated first-year Cultural Festival performance and Class A's other resident music aficionado. Though he'd tried to signal his interest in her a few times over the course of their first year, Jiro had either been oblivious, uninterested, or both, and Kaminari had felt his chances with her diminishing as she slowly grew inseparable from Kendo in the months after Yaoyorozu's disappearance. Even now, she was practically glued to Itsuka's side as they chatted with Tetsutetsu, Kirishima, and Awase off in one corner of the room- the pair were even dressed in matching vampire costumes.
I've always felt like those two aren't 100% platonic, Denki mused, watching as Kyoka laughed at a joke from Kirishima, one hand resting casually on Itsuka's arm. Well, more power to 'em, he reflected with a quiet sigh before taking another long sip of punch. They'd make one hell of a hero power couple. Or throuple, I guess, if you add in Tetsutetsu- he's always been down horrendous for Kendo.
Towards the center of the crowd, Denki's eyes landed on Tokage Setsuna, who he'd spent much of his second year trying to woo. They'd gone out for lunch or coffee together a few times, and exchanged a fair bit of flirtatious banter, but in the end, nothing came of it; she turned him down when he tried to take things to the next level, and the current rumor was that she was dating Kamakiri Togaru. I guess can see it, but if they are going out, they're definitely keeping it on the down-low. Wonder if that's got to do anything with his suspension- maybe she's embarrassed? At the moment, Setsuna was chatting excitedly with Shiozaki and Uraraka, two more of Denki's failed pursuits, though at least they'd been frank enough to reject his advances relatively quickly.
Now, as they reached the midpoint of their third year, and the ticking time limit on successfully scoring a relationship in high school grew more urgent by the day, Denki's interests had turned towards Class B's quiet beauty, Kodai Yui, and he'd spent most of the party up until now trying without much success to hit things off with her. None of his usual icebreakers and small talk tactics seemed to be effective at breaking through her stoic demeanor, though, and a quick glance confirmed that she'd already walked away from the spot where he left her a few minutes prior, joining Kinoko, Juzo, and Ashido by the coffee table, where a game of cards seemed to be reaching its climax.
Moments later, Denki felt a slight grin spread across his face as he watched Mina jump to her feet with a yell of triumph and brandish her winning hand towards her opponents with a peal of smug laughter. Ironically, despite the fact that he viewed her as closer to a sister than anything else, Ashido Mina had been his first kiss in high school. Still not sure if it counted, though, he mused, thinking back on the night in question. Is a kiss from 'spin the bottle' actually a legit kiss at the end of the day? Either way, I could never step on Kirishima's toes by going after her- the guy's been wanting to ask her out for ages.
The point is, Denki reminded himself, trying his best to reset his wandering stream of thought, it's been two and a half years of trying and failing to score a girlfriend, and somehow Yanagi never even crossed my radar. I totally had her pegged for the gloomy introvert type- I thought there was no way our personalities would ever gel. But was she really this chill the whole time? Shit, man, what if she's been into me for a while now and I didn't know it? I thought I was good at reading signals, but maybe I just-
"Goddamn, this shit's dangerous- you can't even taste the booze." Reiko's voice swiftly dragged Denki to the present, and he turned to meet her eyes as she gave him another coy grin and delivered a light, playful punch to his arm. "Not bad, Delinquent Boy."
"Y-Yeah, I mean…" He gave a sheepish shrug and grin, rubbing at the back of his head. "What can I say? I try to make sure everyone's having a good time."
"Oh, I'm aware." She replied with a chuckle, shaking her head in amusement. "Y'know, it's kinda cute, the way you always try so hard to make sure everyone likes you. You've got that golden retriever-type vibe."
…Wait. Did she just call me…?
Once again, Kaminari was left blinking in shock, fumbling without success for a proper reply as his heart quickened its pace even further. He still hadn't fully processed the rest of what she said- his brain had largely short-circuited on the word 'cute'.
"Well, I, ah… t-thank you. You're also really-"
"Oh god, not this song too!" Yanagi let out a loud groan as another kitschy pop anthem began to play over the speakers, prompting cheers of glee from Ashido, Hagakure, and Kinoko. "We need to stage an intervention on this playlist, man. You have any Nirvana songs queued?"
"Yeah, 'Come as You Are' and 'All Apologies'. But they won't come up for a while, I think."
"Going with the Unplugged setlist to match the costume, huh?" She crossed her arms and cocked one brow, her smirk returning. "Still playing it safe with the mainstream hits, though."
"Guilty as charged," he replied sheepishly. "I've been working on learning a few of them myself for a while now- I was planning on bringing out my electric later and doing a little mini-concert, but I'm starting to feel like that might be a bit… extra, y'know?"
"Yeah, I hate to say it, but it might not land with this crowd's vibe." Reiko gave a nonchalant shrug, and her smirk widened. "Still, though, it'd be a shame to let all that practice go to waste."
"Uh… y-yeah, true."
As the music blasting through the speakers reached a crescendo, threatening to drown out her voice, Reiko leaned in closer, until their heads were almost pressed together.
"I've been looking for an excuse to ditch this party for a while now. So how about a private concert, just you and me?"
Denki felt his eyes widen once more in surprise, blood rushing both to his cheeks and to various other locations as his mind raced through the potential implications of Reiko's invitation.
Holy shit. She definitely wants to hook up, right? This is exactly how it goes in every movie and TV show where people at a party sneak away and hook up!
"Y-Yeah, absolutely! Let's go for it, man."
"Alright, perfect." She brushed a gentle hand along his arm before stepping back and taking another sip of her punch. "I'll go get my guitar and meet you at your place in five. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect," Denki replied, giving her the most confident grin he could manage as he struggled to reign in his nerves. "See you soon!"
As Yanagi turned and made her way to the skybridge connecting to the 3-B dorms, Kaminari was left still dumbfounded in her wake, pinching at his thigh to ensure that this wasn't all an incredibly elaborate dream. Rapidly gulping down the rest of his spiked punch in a bid for liquid courage, Denki swiftly filled another cup before starting off towards his room at the briskest pace he could manage short of running; it had only occurred to him after Reiko left that he had approximately five minutes to clean his room to a state acceptable for hosting a girl, no easy task given the fact that it tended to resemble an uncontrolled explosion of clothes whenever he wasn't planning on having over friends.
"Yo, there's our boy!" Halfway across the common room, another voice cut through over the music and chatter, and Denki glanced over to find Sero waving in his direction, his other arm wrapped around a scowling Bakugo's shoulders. "Get over here, bro! We're about to make Katsuki do some karaoke!"
"Don't listen to him, Sparky!" Bakugo snapped in reply, arms crossed in annoyance. "It's not fucking happening!"
"Oh yes it is!" Mina countered in a singsong voice, prancing toward the pair with a microphone in hand. "I've got it all set up for the next song! You coming, Denki?"
"I, uh… I gotta run to the bathroom!" Kaminari blurted in reply, clapping his hands together and bowing hurriedly in apology. "Sorry, it's real bad!"
"You better not clog our toilet!" Sero shouted back amid a peal of laughter; the pair currently shared a common room and bathroom after U.A. decided to switch from single rooms to shared two-person suites for the third-year dorms.
After shooting a final thumbs up in Cellophane's direction, Kaminari whipped back around and continued to speedwalk towards his destination; half a minute later, he was darting back and forth across his bedroom grabbing wrinkled t-shirts and exercise shorts and socks by the handful before tossing them all into his hamper. Manga volumes and textbooks cluttering his desk flew back onto their shelves in record time, the trashcan swiftly populated with crumpled energy drink cans and ramen cups, and a half empty bottle of lotion sitting on Denki's bedside table was swiftly and unceremoniously relocated to his desk drawer. Smoothing out his brightly colored bedsheets with one hand while he doused the entire area in room freshener spray with the other, Denki glanced up at his walls to ensure that none of his decor might offend Reiko's sensibilities. While the majority consisted of band logos, album covers, and movie posters, there was one risqué pinup of a foreign actress and model on the interior of his bedroom door, as well as a 'Japan's Sexiest Heroes' calendar hanging over his desk- the page for October featured Midnight in a revealing witch costume reclining in the midst of a pumpkin patch, a wide grin on her face and two small jack-o-lanterns in her hands concealing her otherwise exposed chest.
These are both… tasteful, right? I mean, Midnight's U.A. faculty and an alumna, so I'm really just showing school spirit at the end of the day. Conflicted, Denki glanced back and forth between the two with a hand perched on his chin; just as he reached out to take down the calendar, though, his phone buzzed with a notification, and he snatched it up from the desk at record speed. Shit is she already here? Was that five minutes already?
Denki's heart sank, though, the moment he saw the caller ID- 'Akira'. All at once, his excitement vanished, replaced by apprehension and unease; a pit of anxiety quickly formed in his stomach, and he felt his heart quicken once more, but for a very different reason. It had been around half a year now since he'd first been contacted by Midoriya Izuku, leader of the shadowy group which had quietly usurped the League of Villains as top dog of the Japanese underworld, stealing their members and driving Shigaraki and his remaining loyalists underground. Denki had lost all contact with Tomura and Kurogiri from that day forward, and hardly possessed the means to seek them out himself; Giran, now acting on behalf of Midoriya's so-called 'Syndicate', had privately urged him to consider the remaining League members a lost cause.
Even when things were good between us, it felt like Tomura was just one or two bad days away from snapping completely, Denki reminded himself, frowning. And I never liked Muscular or Moonfish- that goes double after what they did at that mall in Kiyashi Ward. I hope Kurogiri's okay, though, wherever he is- he always looked out for me.
After being blackmailed into a meeting, with the threat of his affiliation with the League going public hanging over his head, Kaminari had been terrified on the occasion of his first face-to-face with Midoriya, mentally preparing himself for the worst- torture, interrogation, a bullet to the brain. Defying all of Denki's expectations, though, the Syndicate had practically rolled out the red carpet for him, escorting him to an exclusive penthouse suite and supplying him with a seemingly endless supply of fancy drinks and gourmet food as Midoriya explained their vision over a lavish dinner. By the time Monoma and Yaoyorozu, two of Kaminari's former hero course classmates, emerged midway through the evening to reveal that they had helped found the organization, Kaminari had largely been sold on the prospect of joining. Midoriya hadn't made so much as a single threat since their initial call, instead showcasing all the potential benefits of cooperation, but Kaminari was smart enough to understand what the result would be if he declined their offer, even if were merely implied rather than stated.
When all was said and done, Kaminari had transitioned from the League's mole to the Syndicate's rather seamlessly- the latter group was certainly better organized and better-funded, supplying him with thorough and detailed mission briefings that accounted for multiple different scenarios and contingencies whenever he was given a task as 'Emperor'. Sizable quantities of money were deposited on a monthly basis in an encrypted electronic wallet he'd been given access to, and his handlers took every opportunity to cater to his needs and desires, though he was naturally discouraged from overly conspicuous spending that might draw unwanted attention. And after eight-odd months in their employ, they still hadn't asked Denki to do anything unreasonable or difficult to stomach; their assignments were almost uniformly simple reconnaissance and intelligence-gathering, with an occasional smattering of espionage against U.A.'s security infrastructure- planting virus-loaded USBs in school computers to monitor and infiltrate key systems, for instance. There was no evidence that they ever intended to ask him to cause direct harm to his classmates or teachers, and Denki was more or less content to carry on in his role as long as things stayed that way.
It's been a charm offensive with them since the first meeting, he reflected, gazing down at the phone as it continued to ring. But you can still feel it in every conversation- the other shoe, waiting to drop like a sledgehammer if I step one toe out of line. And it's always worst with Midoriya- talking to Toga gives me the creeps, and talking to Monoma wears me out, but whenever Izuku calls in person, it's a reminder- 'Hey, it's me, that guy who still has you by the balls, in case you forgot'.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Kaminari finally steeled himself and pressed 'answer'; it wasn't a good idea to leave Midoriya hanging.
"Hey, man." A brief, momentary pause; Denki never knew how to open these conversations. "H-How are you?"
"I'm doing wonderfully, Denki, thank you for asking." As usual, Izuku took on a polite and obsequious tone, betraying no hint of genuine emotion. "It's been far too long since you and I last had a chat, and I was hoping we could catch up on your current assignments- is now a good time for you?"
"It, uh… actually…" Pacing back and forth across the bedroom, Denki peeked out at the common room and the front door, biting down on his bottom lip in anxiety. "…Is not fully the most optimal time, if I'm being 100% straight with you, Akira."
As always, he referred to Midoriya and the other Syndicate members by their cover identities, and there was an elaborate set of euphemisms and code phrases that they could use to allude to anything sensitive; memorizing it had been one of his first tasks as Emperor.
"I'm really sorry to have to say it," Denki continued, carefully choosing each one of his words to be as diplomatic as possible, "because I know you're a super busy guy, and you made time out of your schedule to talk to me. It's, uh… it's just Halloween, y'know, so there's sort of a… get-together going on, and I…"
As Denki searched for his next word, a soft knock sounded on the outer door, almost inaudible over the faint sounds of the party continuing in the background, and Denki's eyes widened in alarm.
Please, god, please- just say it's okay and hang up, man. Don't you dare cockblock me, Midoriya Izuku.
"Ah, I see. A party?" Midoriya gave a warm chuckle. "How charming. Well, Denki, far be it from me to tear you away from your classmates. I'm sure I can spare some time for us to speak tomorrow- you'll have to tell me all the details."
Another knock came a moment later, followed by a muffled female voice from the other side of the door, and Kaminari held up one hand against the receiver to make sure that Midoriya couldn't hear it; the absolute last thing he needed was the Syndicate following his romantic life.
"Yep, sure thing!"
Please, hang up. Please, hang up.
"Well, someone's certainly rather eager to get back to the festivities. Don't celebrate too vigorously, hm?"
Kaminari couldn't tell whether Midoriya was actually talking more slowly than usual or it just felt that way due to the circumstances, but regardless, each moment he remained trapped on the line was pure agony.
"You got it!"
"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mister Cobain. Talk soon."
Huh? Denki was left blinking in confusion as the call ended. Wait. How did he…? Just as the realization and accompanying sense of dread slammed into his gut- the clear confirmation that he was being watched, either through electronic surveillance or another Syndicate mole, a factor he'd long suspected might be present- a third, louder knock demanded his attention.
"Dude, you alive in there?" Reiko's voice was loud enough to be intelligible now, and Denki practically sprinted towards the door the moment he recovered from his shock.
"Y-Yeah, sorry! Coming!"
Pausing to run a hand through his hair and straighten out his shirt and sweater, Denki squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment in an attempt to purge all thoughts of Midoriya and the Syndicate from his head. Just forget him, forget all of it- you can worry about it later. Focus on right now, and the fact that there's a living, breathing, attractive girl about to be in your room.
Then, he swung open the door and leaned against the frame with all the casual grace he could muster, gazing back at Reiko with a wide grin.
"Hey there- sorry to keep you waiting, David. You here for the private concert?"
"No worries, Kurt- as a matter of fact, I am." Grinning, she adjusted the strap of the electric guitar hanging around her shoulders and nodded towards the room, gesturing with the amp nestled under her right arm. "May I have the honor of entering the venue?"
"By all means."
I hope I didn't accidentally turn this whole thing into a weird historical musician roleplay scenario, Denki mused, brows furrowing slightly in concern as he gestured for Reiko to step inside, then closed the door behind her. But hey, if that's what she's into, I can make it work.
"So, where do you wanna set up?" Reiko paused next to the common area's coffee table and turned back to face him. "Here or in the bedroom?
"W-Well, I, uh…" Unwilling to come on too strong by outright suggesting the latter, Denki simply shrugged his shoulders and gave a sheepish smile. "Whichever's best for you- I'm good either way."
"Well, where's your amp set up?"
"My bedroom, but if you want, I can-"
"The bedroom it is, then," Yanagi declared, a teasing edge to her voice as she continued forward into his room and set the amp down by his bedside.
"S-Sorry if it's a bit of a mess," Denki called, wincing as he remembered he hadn't taken down the calendar or the model pinup. At least she won't see the pinup as long as the door stays open, he reflected, only to immediately backtrack. No, wait… if we're hooking up, it's definitely gonna close, right?
"You're good, man. My place is a wreck sometimes too, and this is positively pristine compared to what Togaru's bedroom used to look like before me and Shihai started forcing him to clean it." Yanagi's gaze swiftly gravitated towards the calendar before Kaminari could try and draw her attention, and she let out a snort of laughter as his cheeks flushed red. "Damn, man. I gotta say, I respect the audacity."
"I mean, gotta show school spirit by supporting our teachers, right?"
"Uh-huh, because Miss November is totally a U.A. teacher too, right?" Smirking mischievously, she reached out and flipped to the next page, revealing a tantalizing shot of Uwabami posing in an autumn forest in a scandalously low-necked dress, an expression of faux shock on her face as she gazed down at a red-hued maple leaf that had landed on her cleavage.
"I, uh…" At a loss for any further excuses, Denki stepped forward and shook his head in apology. "Sorry, I can take it down if it's-"
"Jesus, I'm fucking with you, man." Reiko gave him another punch to the arm, and shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe not my thing, but it's definitely nice to look at- very easy on the eyes. Now come on, are we playing or what? Let's get set up."
"Absolutely, man, let's do it."
Letting out a quiet sigh of relief at the change of subject, Denki set his phone down on his desk and retrieved his own electric guitar from its stand in the corner by his closet, checking the cable connecting it to his amp to ensure that everything was in working order.
"Hey, what model is that?" Reiko asked from behind him.
"The guitar, or the amp?" Denki replied, turning back to face her.
"Your phone, actually." She gestured towards the mobile with a slight hint of a grin. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a tech nerd."
"Oh, it's the new Feel Good Inc. model- FG18, I think?" Turning back to his guitar, he retrieved his favorite pick and strummed at the strings a few times to test the tuning. "I've been a fan of them for a while- they've always had the best specs for the best price, and their contracts aren't total bullshit."
"That's crazy," She replied with a breathy chuckle, shaking her head in amusement as she turned away to tune her own guitar. "I'm actually a big fan of them too. If you're interested in the FG19, you should hit me up in about a week- I know it doesn't officially drop until Christmas, but let's just say I've got a connection in the company."
"Yo, seriously?" Denki glanced back over towards her with wide-eyed anticipation. "That's insane! Do you have a relative working there or something?"
"More like a family friend," Reiko replied with a grin, laying one finger against her lips as she turned and sat down on his bed. "But it's just between you and me- you know how to keep a secret, right, Denki?"
"…Yeah, absolutely." Kaminari felt one corner of his smile twitching slightly in anxiety as he reflected on the cruel irony of her question; his eyes darted back to the phone, and thoughts of Midoriya threatened to resurge to the forefront of his mind. "I've, ah… I've always been great at keeping secrets."
"Glad to hear it." Yanagi gave him playful wink, then turned back to her guitar. "But we can talk more about that later- let's get this show started. You ready?"
"Absolutely, man. What do you wanna start with?" Wrenching his focus back to the present, Denki settled down into his desk chair, rolling it out into the middle of the bedroom so he was sitting directly across from Reiko. "Lately I've been trying to nail the guitar solo from 'Come as You Are'- I think I've got it down."
"That's a good one," She replied, stroking at her chin, "but if you're Kurt and I'm Bowie, there's already a perfect choice from Unplugged, right?"
Reiko raised one brow with an expectant grin, as if she were testing him for the proper answer, and Denki felt his eyes widen panic for a brief moment before he realized what she meant.
"Oh shit, you're right! Not gonna lie, I totally forgot that one was a cover of a Bowie song- I thought it was a Nirvana original until like, a week ago."
"Yeah, a lot of people do- it's kinda like 'Hurt' with Johnny Cash and Nine Inch Nails. You wanna put on the backing, though, or should I?"
"I got it, gimme a sec."
While Denki connected his phone to his portable speaker, Reiko held up her right hand and made a simple swiping motion with two fingers, gently closing the bedroom door with her telekinesis. Denki felt his heart speed up reflexively the moment it shut, his palms growing increasingly sweaty as his eyes darted back and forth between Reiko and the door; she didn't seem inclined to comment on the pinup if she noticed it, but that was a distant second concern compared to the explosion of tantalizing possible outcomes currently unfolding in his mind. Just focus on the music, man. If something happens, it happens, if it doesn't, it doesn't. She's probably just making sure we aren't too loud for the people outside.
"…Alright, we're set." Playing it cool to the best of his ability, Denki glanced back toward Reiko and gave her a grin, his thumb hovering over the play button for the backing track. "Let's do this. 3, 2, 1…"
They strummed the opening chords in almost perfect harmony as the countdown ended, and Denki felt his jaw slacken in awe as the notes reverberated through the room, echoing much more loudly than when he practiced on his own. Before he knew it, they were nearing the first verse, and he realized with a start that they hadn't discussed whether they'd be singing or not. I've never been into singing, that's always been Jiro's thing! If Reiko wants to go for it, though, I've gotta join in, right? But is she even the singing type?
Kaminari's question was answered in short order as they reached the verse in question, and a husky, soulful voice that he would never have guessed belonged to Yanagi began to fill the room.
"We passed upon the stair,
We spoke of was and when,
Although I wasn't there
He said I was his friend."
Reiko lifted her gaze to lock eyes with Denki, and he felt a shiver race through his entire body, fumbling one or two guitar notes as his cheeks flushed an even brighter red than before.
"Which came as a surprise
I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone
A long, long time ago."
Jesus Christ, how am I supposed to duet with her when she's this good? You're telling me she's just casually been holding this in her back pocket for the past two and a half years?! Denki felt a bead of sweat roll down his brow as she finished the second verse, struggling to muster the courage to join in while still concentrating on remembering the guitar notes. His eyes darted back towards Reiko during the interlude before the chorus, trying to discern whether she expected him to join in; meeting his gaze once more, she gave him a soft, earnest smile and a nod of encouragement, and Denki felt his heart skip a beat.
Well, guess it can't be helped.
Compelled by a powerful internal force of will that forbade him from intentionally disappointing an attractive woman, Kaminari steeled himself and began to sing, his voice echoing quietly through the room over the sound of the guitars.
"Oh no, not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the man who sold the world."
Even as Reiko gave him an approving smile, though, Denki felt the pit of unease in his stomach return and begin to widen. Despite the litany of distractions currently in front of him, he couldn't banish Midoriya's voice from his head- couldn't dispel the maelstrom of guilt, fear, self-loathing, and remorse that had been reawoken once more in his chest. Though it lied dormant for weeks at a time, the storm had slowly been gaining strength inside him from the moment the League asked their first 'favor' of him- to help Shigaraki to infiltrate the school and steal a copy of the Hero Course's class schedules by using his electricity to remotely disable key security systems, an action that had ultimately led to the chaos at USJ. No, from before then, he reminded himself. From the moment I fried two innocent people to save my own skin. He missed the first few guitar notes of the next verse before regaining the proper rhythm, his voice soft and solemn as he joined in with Reiko to sing the lyrics as a duet.
"I laughed and shook his hand
And made my way back home
I searched for form and land
For years and years I roamed."
By now their voices were almost perfectly harmonized, and Denki had handily avoided the embarrassing performance he'd been afraid of; that fact was proving to be of much less comfort than he'd anticipated, though. Faced with no other outlet to release it, he'd begun to channel the maelstrom directly into his guitar, and he could feel sparks of electricity crackling out from his fingers along the metal strings as he continued to play, amplifying the sound and reverberation twofold.
"I gazed a gazeless stare
We walked a million hills
I must have died alone
A long, long time ago."
Denki's voice had jumped up in volume in sync with his guitar, and Reiko followed his lead, matching his tone and tenor as they continued their duet.
"Who knows?
Not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With the man who sold the world."
His electricity continued to intensify in the interlude before the final chorus, bright yellow sparks now fully visible as they illuminated the guitar and amp with each note at the point where his pick struck the strings, casting a soft glow on his face.
"Who knows?
Not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the man who sold the world."
As they played through the outro, Denki's eyes squeezed shut; his fingers were moving almost entirely by instinct now, and the guitar had practically become an extension of his quirk- through his electricity, he could feel every centimeter of its metal components, the stress points and the impurities, all coursing with voltage. When the two guitars finally drew silent, the last note still reverberating off the walls, Denki could feel his heart was pounding in his chest, sweat beading on his brow. Slowly opening his eyes again, he flinched in surprise; Reiko was standing directly in front of him now, her guitar set aside and a worried expression on her face. Reaching down with both hands, she gently cupped both his cheeks in her palms, her fingers warm and comforting to the touch.
"Are you okay, Denki?"
"I, uh…" Denki's face had flushed bright red out of instinct, his brain short-circuiting amid the current combination of stimuli and emotions, unable to produce a proper reply. "It's n-nothing, I just…"
As he struggled to answer her, Reiko leaned closer until their faces were only centimeters apart, stroking gently at his cheek with her right thumb. Over the course of his four-odd years of romantic misadventures, he'd experienced physical intimacy on multiple occasions, but he'd never been touched with anything resembling this level of tenderness and care- it was as if a primitive, hard-wired reflex buried deep within his brain had suddenly been triggered, stripping him of all his confidence and defenses until nothing but raw emotion and vulnerability remained.
"Did something happen?" Bending her knees, she adjusted her stance so they were at eye level; her voice had grown soft and reassuring, and her left hand had reached back behind his head, fingers caressing the back of his neck. "You can tell me, if you want."
"I… I just, uh…" He blinked to try and dispel the tears that had suddenly begun to well up in the corners of his eyes, hands curling into frustrated fists at his own weakness. "A few years ago, I fucked up really bad, and ever since then, then things have been…" He stopped short and shook his head, his voice on the verge of breaking. "I-I'm sorry, you don't need to-"
Denki was interrupted midsentence by her lips pressing against his own, a gesture he returned in kind after a moment of initial shock. Heart pounding in his chest, he set his guitar down on the floor as gently as he could manage, then wrapped his hands around Reiko's back, clinging to her for support as she leaned forward and eased herself onto his lap. Their tongues had begun to intertwine now, hips pressed together, and Denki let out a breathless groan, fingers running through her silver-white hair.
What the fuck is happening? He wondered, breaking away for a brief moment to plant a row of kisses down her cheek and neck before pulling her closer to resume their heated embrace. After further consideration, though, Denki decided not to question his current circumstances any further, instead allowing himself to be swept away by the current. The next few minutes passed a dreamlike blur of tongues, sweat, and discarded clothes, and suddenly they were on his bed, a tangle of limbs beneath his sheets; the alcohol from his spiked punch had finally begun to kick in, distorting his sense of time and motion. By the time it occurred to Denki that he was about to have sex, Reiko was already straddling him, pressing him down against the bed with hands gripped tight around his wrists. Their shared cries gradually merged into one, white-hot pleasure coursing through his body like fire.
And then, just as quickly- perhaps almost embarrassingly quickly- it was over, and they were left panting side-by-side, heads together atop his pillow. As the world steadily came back into focus, Denki noticed with a start that a few strands of Reiko's hair were standing on end, crackling faintly with electricity, and he swore under his breath, his eyes widening in fear.
"Oh shit, man, did I- did I shock you?! A-Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, Denki." Her eyes blinked open, and a smile spread across her face. "I think you gave me a little electricity by accident, but it felt good- you didn't hurt me."
"God dammit." Denki pulled back his arms and ran both hands down his face, a wave of bitter self-hatred surging through his body. "This fucking quirk, man. I-I can never control it when I need to, and I always, always end up fucking up. Maybe it was just a little voltage that slipped out this time, but what if next time it's more? W-What if it's too much and I…"
Denki trailed off, his chest heaving; Reiko wrapped her arms around his back and pulled herself toward him, then gently pried his hands away from his face with her telekinesis and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
"…Is that how you messed up before?" Her right hand had begun to caress his cheek again, soft and gentle motions; her eyes were directly across from his own, two pools of sky blue beckoning him to reach out and fall into them. "Did you use too much by accident?"
"…Yes," Denki choked, tears welling up in his eyes once more. "I hurt people, a-and I can't take it back. I… I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid I'm gonna do it again."
Sobs had begun to wrack his body in spite of his best efforts to hold them back, and Reiko wrapped her arms around his head, pressing his face against her chest and easing her mouth towards his ear; her voice dropped to a soft whisper.
"Shhh. It's okay, Denki. It's okay. Your meta ability- your quirk- it's a gift, and you were born to use it. You didn't do anything wrong."
"…B-But I did," he finally managed after a long pause, blinking through his tears. "I was the one who killed them, I-"
Denki halted midsentence, his eyes widening in terror and his breath hitching in his throat as he processed the words that had just left his mouth. Rather than shock or horror, though, Reiko's expression was one of pure empathy; she lifted his chin with her telekinesis to kiss him once more, then eased a hand around to the back of his head and intertwined her fingers with his hair.
"It's okay- I won't tell anyone." Her smile widened; there was no trace of fear or shock in her expression. "Because I know what it's like to have a secret so big it feels like it's going to swallow you whole." She lowered her voice to a whisper once more, forcing him to tilt his head even closer, until their foreheads were pressed together. "To live a double life."
"Y-You do?" Denki pulled Reiko tight against his chest, clinging desperately to her slender frame.
"I do." She answered with a nod, her expression softening; a tinge of unmistakable sadness had seeped into her eyes. "I know how much it hurts, but I also know how to liberate you." Reiko's smile returned, and she planted a kiss on his forehead. "You can tell me everything."
Two Years Ago
Cape Taibusa, Chiba Prefecture
"Keep going, Young Kendo! You're almost there, just one more floor!"
Itsuka opened her mouth in an attempt to reply, but only managed a ragged, panting gasp of exertion as she blinked the sting of sweat from her eyes and continued to plant her feet on one step after the other, driving herself onward in spite of the fiery, aching pain coursing through her legs, back, and shoulders with every movement. Kendo's posture was bent slightly forward out of necessity, to keep herself from swaying backwards and tumbling back down the spiral staircase along with the hefty, 25-kilogram weight strapped to her back, but she had to be equally careful not to lean too far towards the ground. A second 25-kilogram weight was bound to her chest, connected to its counterpart by durable leather straps that looped over her shoulders, and in several instances throughout the climb, she'd very nearly fallen forward and shattered her jaw on the concrete steps.
"Almost there," She echoed through grit teeth, glancing upward toward the patch of sunlight and blue sky filtering down from the end up the staircase, now just a stone's throw away. "You got this," she muttered, struggling to spit out each word with what little air her lungs could muster as the light drew steadily nearer. Every step forward felt like a burst of flame coursing through her body, but the end was so close- a surge of renewed strength filled her legs, the pain fading away to numbness. "You got this. You fuckin' got this."
"Language, young Kendo!" All Might chided with a light-hearted chuckle, his laughter echoing down off the tower's concrete walls. "Come on now, just a few more steps!"
"Yessir!" Itsuka shouted up at him, exhaling in a heavy gasp of exhaustion with the same breath. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she paused briefly to adjust the straps on her aching shoulders, then began to charge upward at a quickened pace, sweat-soaked bangs clinging stubbornly to her forehead and brows. The world around her receded to a blur, and her field of vision narrowed to just the stairs lying before her, passing by with one shaky step at a time.
And then, all at once, daylight- bright blue sky and white clouds overhead, stretching on to the horizon, a blazing late August sun, and All Might, standing just ahead with his hands planted on his hips and a wide, beaming smile on his broad-jawed face. As she emerged onto the tower's rooftop, though, Kendo suddenly lurched forward; her legs had continued to move as if they were climbing stairs even after she ran out of steps.
"Careful!"
Toshinori surged forward with his muscular arms outstretched, his proud expression rapidly shifting to worry, but Itsuka planted her right leg just in time to catch herself, sliding down onto one knee as she shrugged off the weight's straps and lowered it gently to the concrete floor with a resounding thud.
"H-How was my time?" She managed through panting breaths after a moment's pause, springing back to her feet on wobbly legs as her chest continued to heave in exertion- with the weight finally gone, it felt like she was lighter than air, but she still took a moment to double over and plant her hands on her knees. "That one felt good."
"Water first, Young Kendo. There's no skipping out on hydration!"
All Might reached down and pressed a plastic sport bottle into her hands, its sides already dripping wet with condensation, and Itsuka wasted no tilting her head back and spraying a stream of ice-cold water down her throat; mercifully, Toshinori had brought a cooler to keep their supply of water and energy drinks cold throughout the scorching Saturday afternoon. After several long moments spent guzzling down water like she was dying of thirst, Kendo finally tossed the mostly empty bottle back into the open cooler with a gasp of satisfaction, planted her hands on her hips, and broke out into a smile as she gazed over the tower's edge at the vibrant greenery of the forest surrounding them and the sapphire-blue waters of Kaneda Bay lying past the trees. In the far distance, a stretch of land and clusters of tiny skyscrapers were visible on the other side of the bay- the city of Yokosuka, stretching north to Yokohama and Tokyo beyond that. The smell of ocean spray filled Kendo's nose, and the sounds of chirping songbirds and screeching seagulls filled her ears, now that the relentless pounding of her own heartbeat had finally begun to subside. The throbbing and aching of her muscles still remained- her right arm and shoulder were particularly tender, still in the final stages of healing from the grievous injuries Muscular had dealt her several weeks prior- but the rush of adrenaline helped push the pain into the background for the time being.
"God, I'll never get tired of this view."
"It is quite majestic," All Might chimed in with a smile, his massive frame casting a shadow over Kendo as he stepped up next to her. "You came here often with your family, yes?"
"Yep- since our house is just a thirty-minute drive from here, we used to come all the time in the summer, once or twice a week. There's a beach and a campground a little ways down the road, back the way we came." Itsuka turned and gestured back to the east, where a winding forest trail led away from the base of the observation tower. "We'd always start there, play in the water a bit and set up our gear, then me and Itsumi would run off through the forest and race to the top of this tower- I always won, but I don't think it ever bothered her."
"Itsumi- your little sister, correct?"
All Might glanced down at her, one brow cocked, and Kendo nodded silently in reply, grinning softly as a wave of wistful nostalgia overcame her.
"There's this old World War II fort through the trees down there that we used to play hide and seek in with the kids of some neighbors and family friends, and then this huge cave a little ways down the shore." Kendo pointed in the direction of each of the landmarks in turn, then leaned forward and gripped her hands against the railing. "One time, back when I was eleven or twelve, Itsumi slipped and broke her ankle while we were running around in there- kids being kids, y'know, just scrambling around and jumping on the rocks like we were invincible. Me and the neighbor's son had to bring her all the way back to my parents, taking turns carrying her piggyback- scariest twenty minutes of my life. She'd scraped herself up pretty bad, so she was bleeding from half a dozen spots, and the way she was crying, I was totally convinced she was about to die. By the time we got her to the hospital, I think I was as much of a wreck as she was."
Kendo shook her head in amusement, chuckling softly, and All Might clapped a firm hand on her shoulder.
"I'd very much like to meet her someday, Young Kendo. But returning to the topic of your time…" He gazed down at his stopwatch and gave a dramatic pause, his face growing serious; Kendo felt her brows raise in anticipation, until Toshinori's stoic demeanor finally broke a moment later, and a wide grin spread across his face. "1:58, your new best!"
Kendo clapped her hands together and pumped her fist with a cry of triumph, raising her aching arms towards the sky.
"Oh, that's what I'm talking about!"
This particular climb, her fifth in the past half-hour, had come as the culmination of a full morning and afternoon of training spanning the length of the nature park and its surrounding beaches, from weight training in the forest and long-distance running along the shoreline to the grueling climax of repeatedly summiting the five-story observation tower with 100 kilograms strapped to her and a goal of making the top in under two minutes. In the two weeks since All Might first asked her to become his successor, she'd spent most of her free time undergoing a grueling training regimen to ensure that her body was ready to receive One For All. Kendo had always prided herself on her dedication to physical fitness, but her mentor had advocated for an excess of caution in this particular matter, warning rather dramatically that her bones might shatter and explode from the sheer force of the power if her body wasn't properly prepared. Thus far, though, Itsuka managed to outpace his fitness regimen in every category, meeting his planned one-month benchmarks after just one week. As a reward for her performance, All Might had allowed her to choose the venue for this weekend's training; most of their sessions had taken place in U.A.'s athletic facilities up until now, but Kendo had eagerly seized at the chance for a day trip out to one of her favorite childhood vacation spots.
"Remember that feeling, young Kendo- the joy of triumph after vanquishing a stubborn foe." Effortlessly lifting the two hefty circular weights from the ground with one hand, Toshinori slid them back into the case of training equipment he'd brought, then turned back to face her with a warm smile. "You will encounter countless formidable enemies throughout your journey- sometimes, victory may feel out of reach, the odds against you overwhelming. That's certainly been the case for me on more occasions than I'd like to admit."
Toshinori paused for a long moment, gazing out over the bay with an uncharacteristically wistful expression on his chiseled face- his smile faded to a grim line, and his voice grew more solemn as well.
"At those times, when defeat is near and hope seems lost, you must find something to cling to- an anchor amid the storm."For a brief moment, Kendo could sense an undertone of deep, profound pain in Toshinori's words, visible just beneath the surface of his stoic demeanor, and she felt her eyes widen in surprise; this was a side of him she'd never seen, kept well-hidden from the public who thought of him as a veritable god. "A feeling, a memory, a fleeting thought- anything to keep your heart from succumbing to despair, because if you give in to that fear entirely, then the enemy has already won. I've found that the most effective solution is to look back at moments such as these. Cherished memories of joy and triumph, our accomplishments both large and small."
Kendo nodded in silent understanding, unsure how best to reply. All Might's normal bombast returned just as quickly as it had receded, though, his smile widening once more as he turned back to face her.
"All of that is a roundabout way to say that you've exceeded my expectations again, young Kendo. I'd planned for another few weeks of training together, but to put it simply…" He shook his head in amusement, then clapped his massive hand on her shoulder once more. "You're ready. More than ready, by now- there's no need to delay the next step any longer."
"S-Seriously? Are you sure we shouldn't… I-I just didn't think it would be so…" Reduced to a stammering mess by the sudden turn of events, Kendo reached a hand up to her sweat-soaked forehead, reeling with a mix of shock and anticipation. As she glanced back up to meet All Might's calm and steady gaze, though, a sense of reassurance settled over her chest, and her composure swiftly returned, bolstered by a wave of renewed confidence.
If he says you're ready, then the least you can do is believe him.
"Okay."
Itsuka took a deep breath and slowly released it before dipping into a low bow, a gesture made considerably more difficult and uncomfortable than usual thanks to the jellylike state of most of her muscles. All the same, though, Kendo forced herself to maintain it, her arms held rigid at her sides as her heart began to quicken anticipation.
"This is the greatest honor of my life, sir- thank you for putting your faith in me. I swear that I won't let you down."
"I'm grateful for your enthusiasm, young Kendo, but please, stand." He reached out and tapped gently at her shoulder, beckoning for her to rise; as she eased back into a standing position, Itsuka found All Might was gazing down at her with a soft smile, more restrained than usual but somehow warmer as well. "I already know you'll make me proud. You've earned this with your hard work and perseverance- with your willingness to sacrifice everything for those around you. I can think of no one better suited to carry on the torch of One For All."
He extended one closed fist in her direction, and Kendo felt her brows furrow in confusion, mimicking the gesture out of instinct.
"So, uh… how exactly do we do this? Do we need to exchange blood, or…?"
"Nothing so grim!" He declared with a hearty laugh, unfurling his hand to reveal a single long, golden hair. "Eat this!"
"So… that's really it? I don't have to do anything else, it'll all just come naturally from the one hair?"
"Yes, that's it," All Might replied with a chuckle, his tassels of golden hair whipping with a sudden gust of ocean wind as they made their way along the cliffs of the cape, waves crashing against the rocks far beneath them. He had reverted to his weakened form now, partly out of necessity to preserve his stamina and partly to avoid any unwanted attention- the nature park wasn't exactly crowded, but they'd already encountered several groups of vacationing civilians as walked along the shore. "It may take day or two," Toshinori continued, stroking at his chin, but the power will come to you- the transfer of DNA is the key, and hair is simply the most convenient method, I suppose."
"Huh." Kendo shoved her hands into her pockets and gazed out at the ocean, watching absentmindedly as a group of college-aged young men and women a few dozen meters ahead of them scrambled across the rocks at the cliff's edge to find the best spot for a photo, laughing loudly. "I guess I just imagined it as a bit more dramatic in my head, y'know? Some big, crazy ritual where a beam of energy shoots between our chests."
"Now that would certainly be a sight," He replied with a wry grin, pausing for a moment to adjust his grip on the handles of the two hefty cases of weights and training equipment he'd brought with them- each probably weighed over 100 kilograms, and he had their cooler of drinks slung around his shoulder on a leather strap to boot, but even in his weakened state, Toshinori was able to carry all three containers with relative ease. "I remember feeling the same way when my master gave me this power. She was an exceptionally wise woman, and I was an exceptionally naïve young man- just a year or two older than you are now, when it was my time to take up the torch."
As All Might spoke, Kendo continued to watch the college students scrambling around on the rocks, more out of idle reflex than any active interest. In her childhood, she, had done the same on countless occasions with Itsumi and their friends- at that young age, the hefty chunks of granite and basalt jutting out along the cliffside had seemed almost mythical, like the stones of some great ruined fortress, and Itsuka could recall playing knights versus dragons and heroes versus villains while perched atop the boulders. On one occasion, Itsuka's parents had come to bring the group of children back for dinner, and found them carousing just centimeters from a sheer, fatal drop- the brutal scolding that followed was still burned into her memory even now.
Probably the angriest I've ever seen my mom, she mused, her gaze drifting slightly downward from the college students to their picnic blanket and cooler, laid out on a patch of grass a few meters back from the rocks. Itsuka's eyes narrowed in frustration at the sight of several discarded food wrappers and empty beer cans scattered by the wind; even as children, she and her sister and friends had known better than to litter along the cape. She could make out some of their conversation over the wind and waves now, though they didn't seem to be discussing anything of substance.
"Yo, Harumi, check this pose! Free ticket to the gun show, just for you, baby!"
"Oh my god, you're so gross, Naru!
"Hey, guys?!" Cutting All Might off in the midst of his explanation, Kendo quickened her pace, waving a hand in the group's direction- they hardly seemed to notice her over the sound of their own voices, though. "Your stuff's gonna blow into the ocean, you need to pick it up!"
"Do as the young lady says!" All Might added in a stern, authoritative tone, dropping the cases to the ground and starting towards the group- a rare expression of visible annoyance had come over his face when he noticed the mess they'd made. "This litter is unacceptable, not to mention unlawful! And move away from those rocks, they're-"
"Why don't you pull the stick outta your ass, gramps?!" One young man sporting aviator sunglasses cut in, prompting a chorus of laughter. "We ain't hurtin' nobody!"
"You can pick it up yourself if you're so worried!" A woman in a patterned yellow bikini chimed in, her hands placed defiantly on her hips. "We'll get it when we leave, so get off our case!"
All Might paused in his approach and turned back to face Kendo with a heavy sigh, his arms crossed and his golden brows hiked in exasperation.
"Well, as you can see, young Kendo, not every citizen you encounter over the course of your work will be a model of civic responsibility." He gestured in the group's direction with one hand, then, shifted back into 'teacher mode' at the drop of a pin. "Now, what course of action would you propose in this scenario?"
"Well, they're already being belligerent, and as much as I want them to be the ones to take responsibility, I don't know if we should risk escalating the situation by pushing things or playing the hero card." Itsuka glanced back and forth between the group and her mentor with a frown, ticking through their options in her mind. "I don't have my provisional license yet, so legally speaking, they don't have to listen to me, and now that they've seen you like this, you can't turn back into All Might in front of them- not unless there's a phone booth around here for you to hop into and pull a Clark Kent."
"Even if there were," Toshinori replied with a grimace, "I'm afraid I'm running quite low on my energy reserves for the day… I doubt I could pull off the transformation for more than a few seconds."
"…Well, it's not how I planned on spending part of my afternoon," Itsuka finally conceded with a huff, "but I think the best option is to just pick it up ourselves. It's better than just leaving it and hoping they do it later. Then we can call the park rangers and let them know about the situation; this is their jurisdiction, so they'll be able to order them to get away from the rocks."
All Might gave a nod of agreement and approval, and Kendo resumed her course towards the students' picnic site, her mouth set in a frown as the wind swelled again around them, scattering the wrappers and cans even further. Toshinori retrieved the cases and followed along a few paces behind her; the group had already gone back to ignoring them, their loud shouts grating on Kendo's ears.
"Hey, hey, Takeshi! Pass me another, man, I'm out!"
"Alright, goin' long! Pop fly!"
"Jesus, that's a lot of beer cans,"Kendo muttered to herself as she drew closer, and the full scale of the mess became apparent."It's only four in the afternoon, how long have they been drinking? They're really…" Itsuka trailed off midsentence, her eyes slowly widening in concern and realization.
They're not just obnoxious assholes- they're full-on wasted.
Her gaze snapped back towards the students just in time to watch the boy with the aviators- the one standing nearest to the cliff- leap vertically into the air, then stumble and fall as he landed, careening over the edge with a sudden yelp of panic. The can of beer he'd been attempting to catch smashed into the rock he'd been perched on and exploded in a burst of yellow-white foam, and then the screams began, drowning out everything else as they merged into a chorus of shock and panic.
"Everybody get back!"
The next few seconds passed in a blur; Kendo was vaguely aware of rushing toward the cliffside at a full sprint- of shouting and waving her hand in the other students' direction- but her mind didn't fully catch up to her body until she was already leaping out over the edge, eyes flitting back and forth in a search for the victim below. Thankfully, Itsuka knew this particular stretch of coast well- the area directly beneath this spot was relatively clear of rocks, and as she plummeted towards the roiling waters roughly twenty meters below, the wind whipping her sweat-soaked auburn hair into a frenzy, she caught sight of a small circle of bubbles and white foam drifting to the right of her current trajectory.
There you are.
In the fleeting moments before she hit the water, Kendo angled her body downward, swelled her right hand into a massive, boulder-sized fist, and held it out beneath her to break the surface tension and keep herself from being knocked into a daze- her fists gained enhanced durability when enlarged by her quirk, but she'd never exactly come close to testing out this particular scenario. It'll have to be enough, Itsuka resolved, making sure to unclench her jaw and blow out through her nose as the ocean rushed up to meet her. Just as planned, her fist slammed into the surface first, kicking up a massive plume of water with a thunderous boom that reverberated through her body; pain jolted along her hand and arm, but there was no time to assess the damage. By the time the sensation even registered, Itsuka was already three meters beneath the surface, surrounded on all sides by a murky bluish void. Her instincts urged her to close her eyes against the bitter sting of salt, but she forced them to remain open, sweeping her gaze back and forth in search of the victim. It only took a few seconds to spot him- a human-shaped shadow a few meters to her right- but it felt like an eternity. Kendo's heart was pounding with a rush of adrenaline, and her perception of time had flown completely out the window- it was difficult to distinguish whether she'd been underwater for five seconds or fifty.
Launching into a quirk-enhanced breaststroke with hands twice the size of oar paddles, Itsuka reached him in a matter of moments- he'd been knocked senseless by the impact, drifting limply in the water with bubbles trailing steadily from his mouth. Just as Kendo grabbed hold of him with her oversized right hand, though, the muffled crash of a wave sounded overhead, and its undertow swept them both away with the speed and force of a freight train, sending the pair tumbling and spinning further out to sea. Any sense of orientation and control that Kendo had previously maintained vanished in an instant; the world was a blur of dark blue and green, and she could no longer tell which way was up or down. To make matters worse, the soreness in her legs and arms was reasserting itself- her limbs were quickly turning to leaden weights as they struggled against the weight of the current, each movement growing more and more laborious.
Shit, shit, shit. Twisting her body back and forth in a desperate attempt to regain her bearings, Kendo used her enlarged left hand to try and slow them down, but it was a futile gesture- even at its maximum size, it couldn't disrupt the flow of hundreds of tons of water. Alright, what was the safety tip here? Pulling the young man closer towards her, Kendo grit her teeth and searched her memories, struggling to recall the instructions from her childhood swimming lessons amid the chaos. Swim parallel? No, perpendicular- right angle to the current. Just as she attempted to reorient herself in the proper direction, though, a massive, jagged black shadow surged into view to her right. A rock?!
By the time she spotted it, though, it was practically on top of them; once more, Itsuka's body moved on sheer instinct, pushing her left hand to its maximum size and placing it between herself and the shadow; she'd likely break her wrist, but it would still be a better outcome than the concussions and shattered bones they'd suffer if they hit the rock full-on. In the same split second, Kendo turned away from the rock and pressed the young man against her chest, shielding him with her own body. As she braced herself for the inevitable impact, though, time seemed to slow to a crawl, and an unfamiliar, electric sensation jolted through her body, starting in her chest and racing down her left arm to her hand. Through the searing salt and the murky darkness of the water, sparks of light lit up Itsuka's field of vision; multicolored energy traced a path along her nerves and veins as tongues of blue-white electricity crackled along the skin of her left hand and forearm. Her brain hardly had the chance to process what was happening, but some deep, primal instinct in the dark corners of her mind told her to curl the hand into a fist- and so she did.
Then her knuckles slammed into the rock, and Kendo watched with awe through stinging, half-shut eyes as the meter-thick basalt pillar burst into dozens of shards of rubble with a deep, thundering crack, shattering like a pane of glass.
Was that… me?
Next came the pain, trails of fire racing up her hand and arm, and Kendo's mouth opened in a cry of agony; by the time her brain caught up to her reflexes, seawater was already flooding down her throat and into her lungs as a flurry of bubbles floated up from her lips. Itsuka snapped her mouth shut again, twisting her head upward towards the surface, but the damage had already been done- her vision was rapidly fading, the water in her throat swiftly choking her from within. Her squinting eyes finally caught sight of the dancing pattern of shifting sunlight that marked the surface, but it was dimming with each passing moment; Kendo couldn't tell whether they were sinking further away from it or unconsciousness was rising up to claim her, but either way, her limbs refused to move another centimeter- her left arm had fallen slack at her side, her right still locked in place beneath the arms of young man she'd jumped in to save.
I'm sorry. Her gaze drifted back towards his limp form, regret and fear welling up in her chest. I'm sorry I couldn't…
Itsuka's mind was growing hazier with each slowing beat of her heart, no longer able to even string together a coherent thought. In the fleeting moments before darkness overtook her completely, though, the same distant recess of her mind that had asserted itself moments prior raised its voice once again. This time, though, there wasn't just a faint instinct, but an image, nestled in the shadows on the knife-edge of consciousness: seven silhouettes wreathed in a halo of multicolored light, all speaking as one.
KICK.
Itsuka's legs had already given up their feeble attempts to tread water, but as her body moved to obey the voices' command, she felt the same electric sensation racing down her right leg- a rush of energy unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.
Then, a low, reverberating thoom, a rush of bubbles rising up from beneath her, the sensation of water flowing past them- and a growing patch of light amid the darkness.
The next thing Kendo remembered, she was retching seawater on a stony beach, her body trembling like a leaf as a pair of sturdy hands pumped up and down against her chest and the ebbing dregs of waves lapped at her side. Light filtered slowly into her aching eyes, and at first, the world was a blur of light and blobby shadows.
"KENDO! Young Kendo, can you hear me?!"
For the moment, she was still unable to reply, still too busy vomiting a mix of water and mucus out onto the rocks beside her; moments later, though, her throat finally cleared, leaving only the taste of salt and acidic bile. Her sinuses, throat, and lungs were all burning with pain, and tears began to well in her eyes as she turned her head back upwards in the direction of All Might's voice, blurring her vision even further. Once she'd blinked the first of them away, though, Toshinori's face finally came into focus; his sunken blue eyes were wide and frantic, his clothes soaked and his mane of blond hair dripping water as he knelt over her in his weakened form.
"S-Sir…" She rasped, struggling to produce even a single syllable from her aching throat.
In response, All Might simply drew her into a tight, wordless embrace, his own body shaking nearly as much as her own. Itsuka attempted to return the gesture, but her arms flatly refused to move, both lying slack at her sides. A stinging lance of pain drew her gaze to her left hand, the one that had broken through the rock, and Kendo felt her eyes widen in horror and dismay as the limb came into view- everything from her forearm down was covered in blackish-purple bruises, her fingers and knuckles leaking blood out onto the rocks from a half-dozen lacerations. All Might's voice drew her attention back upwards a moment later, though, reduced from his usual booming bombast to a hoarse whisper.
"I-I thought I… god, I thought I'd lost you." Reaching up to wipe a matching set of tears from his own eyes, he put on a shaky smile, beaming down at her. "But you're a fighter, aren't you?"
"Sir, where's the…" She paused to collect her scattered thoughts, wincing as the numbness in her limbs continued to give way to throbbing pain. "…The guy? Did he…?"
"He's here," Toshinori replied with a firm nod; some of the confidence was already returning to his voice. "He's alright, Young Kendo. You saved him."
Toshinori shifted his posture and gestured to his right, revealing the young man in question- he was currently seated a few meters away, leaning against a large rock with his knees drawn up to his chest and tears streaking his face.
"I'm s-sorry," he whimpered, slurring his words out of either drunkenness, shock, or a mixture of both. "I'm sorry… I w-wanna go home…"
"I instructed the others to call the Coast Guard," All Might replied, half to the young man and half to Kendo. "Even told them the emergency number, in case they didn't know it. They should be on their way by now- we'll need their help to get off this beach."
A quick glance back and forth confirmed All Might's assessment; the beach itself was part of a narrow cove only a dozen meters wide, surrounded on either side by tall, impassable rocks and backed up against the cliff. He could get us out of here if he went into his muscle form, but he said he only had a few seconds left, and he might've already used it saving us.
The last few words left a pang of guilt in Kendo's chest, and her tears swiftly returned, this time from bitter disappointment rather than pain.
"Sir, I'm… so sorry," she choked, her right hand balling into a frustrated fist and her eyes squeezing shut as another wave washed against her. "You put your trust in me, and I already screwed up. I just started, and you already had to rescue me!"
"Young Kendo, that's not true at all." All Might turned his gaze back toward her, his golden brows furrowed. "By the time I jumped in, you'd already been swept away by the current- I had no idea where you were. I would never have found you in time if you hadn't surfaced on your own."
Itsuka blinked in surprise, her eyes narrowing in confusion as she tried to piece together the blurry memories of her last few seconds of consciousness underwater.
"…What? But how did I…?"
All Might glanced towards her feet, and she followed his gaze; her right leg and foot were bruised in a similar manner to her left arm, and the hem of her exercise shorts was scorched and tattered as if it had been burned by some electric force- the same went for the left sleeve of her t-shirt, upon closer inspection.
"You've tapped into One For All's power much more quickly than I expected," He replied, leaning back towards her and lowering his voice to keep the young man from overhearing; there was a soft smile on his face, and his eyes were brimming with joy. "I've never been more certain that I made the right choice."
He pulled her into a hug once more; this time, she was finally able to return it, albeit only with her right arm.
"I'm so proud of you."
Present Day- April 14, 10:39AM
Tokyo Central Hospital
"Kendo? How are you doing in there?"
"Hmm?"
Snapped out of her reverie by Dr. Yochimura's muffled voice filtering in through the door, Kendo blinked in discomfort as the stark, silent hospital bathroom came back into focus, and pleasant memories of days gone by gave way to the aching in her left shoulder and the clammy sensation of her hands gripping onto the porcelain sink for support.
"Y-Yeah, I'm good," she finally managed, her gaze still fixed on the drain. "Thanks for checking, Doc. I just… need another minute."
"Alright- take your time, but let me know immediately if you're experiencing any severe reactions beyond the potential side effects we discussed."
"Yup. Sure thing."
Itsuka had spent the past ten-odd minutes hunched over the basin as alternating waves of chills and nausea swept through her body- the first side effects to present themselves following her first injection of KH-129, the interim designation of the experimental quirk factor-suppressing medication prescribed to her Yochimura.
After further discussion, they'd ultimately decided to begin treatment immediately, in order to maximize the possible benefits from the drug; the isopropyl-soaked cotton swab and empty syringe sat discarded at the back corner of the sink to her left, the interior of the latter still specked with a few lingering drops of the pale yellow fluid. The left sleeve of her patient's gown was rolled up to her shoulder; the injection site was nothing more than a small red dot on her deltoid, barely discernible. The doctor had offered to conduct the injection himself, but Kendo declined, instead opting to familiarize herself with the procedure as soon as possible, given that she'd need to handle it on her own twice a week for-
…For the rest of my life, Kendo mused, gaze shifting back to the syringe, as short as that may be. Six months max, huh? Doubt I'll make it that long, though, she reflected with a faint hint of smirk. Doc said that's only if I stop using my quirks and the medicine's a smash success, and the former's not looking too likely at the moment.
Itsuka lifted her gaze up to the mirror, and the smirk swiftly faded as her reflection came into view.
Sunken eyes ringed with dark purple circles, beads of sweat along her brow, and unkempt and greasy hair, let down from its usual ponytail to fall down past her shoulders, streaked with two swathes of white, the second wider than the first. Her complexion remained pallid as well, despite three hours on an IV drip and the fact that she hadn't lost any blood- it was as if some of the light and color had been sapped away from her body. As Itsuka met her own eyes, she felt her fingers tighten their grip on the rim of the sink, and she was struck once more by a distinct sensation of detachment and dissonance- the feeling that she was watching all of this happen to someone else from the other side of a thick fog, that it wasn't truly reality. That her body wasn't failing, that the power she'd spent the past two years cultivating wasn't slowly killing her. That she would live to see this Christmas, go skiing in the mountains again with her family, celebrate her twentieth birthday.
It had been over an hour since the doctor delivered his prognosis, and Itsuka still hadn't shed a tear. She wasn't sure why.
"I'm, ah… I'm coming out," Kendo suddenly declared- to fill the silence, more than anything else. She grabbed the syringe and swab and dropped them into the biohazard bin next to the trash can, then rolled down her sleeve, pushed the door open, and marched back out into her hospital room at a notably hurried pace, unwilling to be alone with her reflection for a moment longer.
"Is… everything alright?"
Standing next to the shuttered window with a clipboard in hand, Yochimura turned towards her with one brow raised in confusion and concern. Across the room, Sir Nighteye glanced up from his seat in a chair by the doorway, blinking as if he'd been snapped from a trance; his expression was wracked with fear and distress, though he did his best to give her an encouraging smile and nod as their eyes met.
"Yup, all good- the injection went fine. I won't have any trouble with it going forward." Glancing between the two men, she gestured towards the door with a forced attempt at a grin. "I think I'm just ready to get moving, y'know? Gotta get back to work- Syndicate's not gonna stop themselves."
Frowning, the doctor gestured wordlessly for Kendo to take a seat on the bed, then set aside his clipboard and slid an oximeter onto the tip of her finger to check her pulse and blood oxygen. As Yochimura jotted down the results, Nighteye rose and made his way to Itsuka's bedside, his brows furrowed in a mix of contemplation and anxiety.
"It seems that you may not have been listening very closely to me earlier, Kendo," the doctor finally declared with a sigh of disappointment as he removed the oximeter and met Isuka's gaze. "For the moment, your vitals are all stable, but it's my professional opinion that you shouldn't be returning to work in any capacity. Any prolonged quirk usage would only worsen your symptoms and endanger yourself and your colleagues. Ideally, I'd like to keep you for observation and testing for at least another day, but barring that, you should restrict your activities to resting at home."
"I… I don't think that's…"
"Necessary? As difficult as it may be to confront your new reality, the unpleasant truth is that you're suffering from a terminal condition, Kendo. I urge you to make the most of what time you have left- not to shorten it intentionally."
"That decision is not for you to make," Nighteye interjected, stepping between the two with his arms crossed. "And not for me, either. Kendo is fully capable of choosing for herself how to move forward."
"If she were a normal citizen, it would be my decision," The doctor countered, eyes narrowed. "But since she's a hero, it falls to the Public Safety Commission to decide whether to place her on medical leave. Rest assured, though, my recommendation to President Kengen will be quite clear."
He shifted his gaze back to Kendo, and his expression softened once more.
"Please, consider what I've said. Your family and loved ones will need to be notified, and I'm sure they'll want to spend all the time they can with you. I know that your work as a hero is important, and I have the utmost respect for your role as All Might's successor, but the world will keep on spinning if you choose to enjoy your final months at peace. The public will understand."
I wouldn't be so sure about that, Kendo almost replied, opting instead to remain silent for a moment while she collected her thoughts. Ever since the Black Day, the trend in public opinion had been clear- with every week that passed without a definitive hero victory over the Syndicate, and each one of the group's successful attacks, confidence in the heroes- and in Battle Fist, All Might's publicly anointed heir- continued to fall at an increasingly precipitous pace. Nighteye, Jiro, and Tetsutetsu had all tried to convince her not to pay the numbers and the news stories any heed, especially in the days since her public humiliation by Seraph at the height of the Syndicate's assault on U.A.'s commencement ceremony, but their arguments had largely fallen flat.
How am I supposed to ignore an approval rating in the thirties when All Might's never dropped below 90%? People are losing faith in everything he built- I can't just stick my head in the sand and pretend it isn't happening. And while I'm clearly no PR expert, I get the feeling that announcing my retirement in the middle of all this wouldn't exactly improve the situation- I'd either have to tell the whole world that I'm dying, or keep it secret and let everyone believe that I'm just running away from the fight.
Itsuka very nearly cracked a grin at the morbid absurdity of the situation, and suddenly, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Bakugo in her apartment- to his candid, biting assessment of the heroes' performance since the Black Day.
He gets it too, as much as I hate to admit it. At least I can trust him to tell me the situation straight, without worrying about hurting my feelings in the process. Itsuka blinked in sudden understanding and acceptance, her heart steadying in certainty.
It sounds crazy, but he'll be the first one I tell. I can't do that to mom and dad, or Itsumi and Itsuno, or Kyoka and Tetsu- not yet, at least. Not without taking some time to get my thoughts together, plan what I'm gonna say. They'll cry, they'll bargain, they'll probably get me emotional too- but I can trust Katsuki to handle things rationally. Or at least, close to rationally, she reminded herself, her expression lightening for a brief moment.
As she retreated into her thoughts, Itsuka had been vaguely aware of Yochimura and Nighteye speaking to each other in the background, their words muffled and faint- a hand on her shoulder finally dragged her back to the present, though, and she glanced up to meet Sir's golden eyes.
"Kendo, are you…"
He stopped short of the word 'alright', his brows furrowing in recognition of the futility of the question.
"…If you're feeling up to it," Nighteye continued after a moment's pause, "let's go speak to President Kengen. The doctor will be giving her his opinion, but we need to brief her on the situation ourselves, and inform of your intentions- if you've decided, that is."
"Y-Yeah," She stammered in reply, rising to her feet and doing her best to shift back into the mindset of a hero- of the Symbol of Peace. "You're right, she needs to know. Let's head out."
Anything to get out of this room.
Yochimura watched them in silence as they gathered Kendo's things and started towards the door, stern disapproval clear on his face, and Itsuka felt her cheeks flush red out of instinct- whether it was guilt or shame or embarrassment, she wasn't sure, but if she was certain of one thing, it was that she couldn't bear to stay here a moment longer. Over the past decade, Kendo had witnessed more than one relative spend their final days confined to a hospital bed, attached to countless beeping machines, unable to even move on their own; the mental image of being reduced to the same state produced a visceral reaction of fear and repulsion in her chest, along with a burning desire to leave her room behind as quickly as possible.
Finally, though, the door swung open, and they emerged out into the hallway, busy with nurses and doctors rushing back and forth in a flurry of activity; most were so absorbed in their work that they barely noticed her, a welcome change of pace from the past few hours of blinding scrutiny.
"Any updates from outside?" She asked, glancing towards Sir as they started off down the corridor; while they were leaving the room, he'd looked briefly at the screen of his cellphone before returning it to his pocket.
"Suffice to say there are a great many people who are concerned about your wellbeing," he replied, his expression softening for a moment. "I'm sure they'll be very eager to see you, when you're ready, but I've refrained from replying on behalf."
"…Thank you," she managed after a moment, noddingly slowly. "You can go ahead and let Tetsu and Kyoka and the others know I'm okay, though- I don't wanna make them worry."
"Understood."
Wasting no time, Sir began to type out a series of messages at lightning speed; as they continued down the hallway in silence, Kendo found her thoughts drifting once again, trying in vain to summon the proper words to explain her situation to her friends and loved ones.
They don't even know about One For All. Am I supposed to just lie to them about what's killing me? What do I say if they ask me about the medicine? If they all tell me I should retire? She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment in another desperate attempt to summon the Vestiges from the depths of her mind and seek their counsel, but their voices remained silent, their images hidden behind a curtain of fog. The side effects from KH-129 certainly weren't helping; every time she attempted to concentrate on contacting them, another pang of nausea disrupted her focus and dragged her back to the present. A memory resurfaced in the Vestiges' stead, though- of All Might, recounting the story of his falling out with Nighteye- and Kendo halted in her tracks, her brows furrowed in resigned disappointment.
"…You're going to tell me to retire too, aren't you?"
As Sir turned back to face her, his initial expression of confusion quickly shifted to one of keen regret, his mouth opening and then closing again as he searched for the proper reply.
"…Shall we take this conversation somewhere more private?" He gestured over his shoulder to another group of hospital staff rushing past them with a gurney, and Kendo nodded. "Back to your room, then, perhaps? I'm sure the doctor's left by-"
"No." Itsuka gave a firm shake of her head. "I… I'm not going back there."
Not now, not ever, if I can help it.
Sir nodded in understanding, and half a minute later, they'd found a small lounge away from the bustle of the main corridor; three vending machines lined one of the walls, a counter and sink the opposite one, and after borrowing a few coins from Nighteye, Itsuka quickly found herself gulping canned coffee between bites of biscuits covered with matcha-flavored chocolate; after barely picking at her bland hospital breakfast a few hours prior, she hadn't realized until now how hungry she'd become.
"S-Sorry," She stammered after swallowing another mouthful, glancing back towards Nighteye with an apologetic frown. "I've been craving these things for a while, and I just…"
"It's alright- no need to explain. If anything, as you indicated, I'm the one who owes you an explanation- I have for some time now, ever since you first asked me to look into your future back at your apartment."
Sir had begun to pace back and forth across the small lounge, the heels of his shoes clicking anxiously against the linoleum. A small round table and a few well-worn plastic chairs occupied one corner of the room, but neither Kendo nor Nighteye seemed inclined to make use of them; while Sir paced, Itsuka leaned back against the counter, watching her mentor with a growing pit of worry and anticipation in her stomach. All at once, he finally drew to a halt, glancing down to meet her gaze.
"You know how this story begins- or at least, how part of it does. Eight years ago, I lost my best friend because I couldn't stand the sight of him destroying his own body to continue his career, against all medical advice and the pleading of those closest to him, myself included. It's only thanks to you, Kendo, that I was able to reconcile with him before he died. But as we both know, history is keen to repeat itself, often in the cruelest fashion."
Sir's lips drew into a grimace, his brows knit in pain.
"You are not Toshinori, though, and I am not the same man I was eight years ago. I swear to pursue every possible avenue to save you from this sickness, but if you decide to continue on in your role- if that is what you truly wish- I will not deny you that choice. I will not leave your side and abandon you to your fate, as painful as the future might be. All Might's injury came at the moment of his greatest triumph against All For One; his greatest foe was presumed dead, his master avenged and the country saved. Your battle with the Syndicate is still not over, though, and it is no secret Seraph would stand to gain the most if you were to suddenly vanish from the stage. People still need the Symbol of Peace, now more than ever."
A storm of pride and worry in equal measure rose up in Kendo's chest, and she opened her mouth to reply; Nighteye held up one index finger before she could find the proper words, though, and took a step towards her. His expression had softened, but his voice was full of certainty and conviction.
"I will, however, make one plea to you: Allow me to begin searching for a successor."
"…Oh."
In spite of the logical nature of Nighteye's suggestion- and the fact that Itsuka herself had already considered the very same idea over the course of the morning- hearing the word 'successor' spoken aloud still struck her stomach like a sledgehammer, driving the breath from her lungs.
"A quirkless man or woman worthy of taking up your mantle," Sir continued, pacing back and forth again with an almost manic fervor. "Worthy of inheriting One For All. I'll start with U.A. and Shiketsu, begin searching through the ranks of the General Studies, Business, and Support courses- for someone with both physical strength and strength of spirit. If I find a promising candidate, we'll meet with them together- you'll have the final say, of course. I know it won't be easy, and time is working against us, but I can be quite efficient when I put my mind to it. And if I- when I find one, please…"
Nighteye took another step forward and placed both hands on her shoulders, his eyes wide with two emotions she'd seen on his face only once before: desperation and fear.
"Please, pass on One For All before it destroys you."
"And what if you can't find someone in time?" Kendo's brows furrowed in concern, her mouth sinking back into a frown as she returned her mentor's gaze. "What if the Syndicate finds out and kills them after I've passed it on? What if it doesn't stop what's happening to me?"
Itsuka's hands balled briefly into frustrated fists, but relaxed again just as swiftly; though she'd experienced a whirlwind of emotions in the past hour, she knew better than to redirect her anger back at the oldest mentor she had left. Her voice had taken on a pleading tone, growing more strained and desperate with each word.
"You know how to find the answer, Sir. How to find all of the answers." She took a confident step forward and laid one hand across her chest, even as Nighteye's eyes narrowed in pain, his grimace deepening. "Look into my future. I know you told me no after the Commencement, but things are different now- you have to see that. Tell me how long I have, so I can prepare. So my family can prepare. Tell me if we find a successor- who it is, where they are. Just… tell me. Please."
A long silence followed, laden with expectation. Nighteye's gaze had dropped to the ground, his expression shifting to a blank, inscrutable slate; only the buzzing sound of the vending machines and the distant footsteps of doctors and nurses were audible over the feverish drumbeat of Itsuka's own heart. Finally, just as she took another step towards him and opened her mouth to repeat the question, Nighteye stirred from his torpor and reached up to adjust his glasses, lifting his gaze to meet Itsuka's eyes once more.
"…Did you know that I had a brother?"
The question hung heavy over the room for several long seconds before Kendo replied.
"…No, I didn't."
"Not many people do. His name was Soji, and he was six years older than me- strong, handsome, popular, an athlete and a scholar wrapped into one." Nighteye's demeanor and tone had taken on an air of solemn, bittersweet nostalgia, his gaze fixed on some intangible point deep within his memories. "He dated the most beautiful girl in school, won a full scholarship to Waseda University, and earned a coveted, highly competitive spot on their men's rugby team. To say I idolized him would be a gross understatement- he was my hero."
There was a growing undercurrent of poignant, labored grief in Sir's voice, most noticeable in the word 'hero', and Itsuka felt a chill race up her spine, her heart sinking in her chest.
"When I was eleven years old," he continued, a soft, somber smile on his lips, "Soji asked me to use my quirk to look into his future. He wanted to know whether he'd end up marrying his girlfriend, and I suppose his curiosity got the better of him. This was around the time I was first developing some semblance of control over my ability, so I decided I'd look ten years ahead- but the film reel ended after two. I didn't see my brother in a happy marriage, as I expected I would. I saw him dying from a car accident at age nineteen."
In the silence that followed, Kendo opened her mouth, trying to conjure up words of consolation, only to close it again- in the face of a pain this immense, anything she said would ring hollow.
"I watched through my brother's eyes as the paramedics picked his broken, bleeding body off the asphalt and carried him into the ambulance." Nighteye's voice had faded to an emotionless monotone, his eyes glazed over- it didn't take an expert to tell that he was reliving each memory as he described it. "I watched his girlfriend sobbing over him in the ICU as his vision faded. I heard the sound of his final breaths, and the steady beeping on the heart monitor beginning to slow. My parents and I lived too far from Tokyo to reach the hospital before he passed, but his girlfriend called us, put us on speakerphone so we could talk to him- and so before the end, I listened to my own voice, begging Soji not to die."
Blinking as his mind returned to the present, Nighteye forced his lips into a grim half-smile and glanced back towards Kendo.
"Naturally, I was frantic, inconsolable. I tried to explain what I'd seen- I begged him not to leave for university, to stay at home with our family. Young and naïve as I was, I pleaded with him to never get in a car again, recounted every detail I'd seen. But back then, we still didn't know whether my Foresight was foolproof. My parents discussed the matter with several quirk scientists, brought me in for testing, and after four separate visits, they found one who was willing to tell them what they wanted to hear: that my predictions might not be certain fact, and that perhaps I was only seeing possible futures, not an immutable outcome. After that, they stopped taking me seriously- started scolding me whenever I mentioned the prediction. Soji didn't turn on me, though. He promised me he'd be safe; he did everything he could to reassure me before he left for Waseda, and as the months passed, I started to believe him, to believe the doctor. The future wasn't set- it could be changed."
Nighteye shrugged his shoulders, his eyes briefly misting over with tears before he produced a handkerchief from his jacket and wiped them away with brusque efficiency.
"You know what happened next. One evening at the dinner table, we got the call I'd spent the past two years dreading, and all my delusions came crashing down in one horrifying moment. My parents blamed me- they decided that by making the prediction, I had caused the accident, and nothing that I or the doctors could say would change their minds. Suffice to say, our relationship never recovered."
"…I'm so sorry, Sir." Finally breaking her silence, Itsuka reached forward and pulled him into a hug. "I can't even imagine…"
"Garnering your sympathy is not my intent, Kendo- but thank you, regardless." He reached down and gently patted her head with one hand before pulling away from her embrace and turning to face the counter of the kitchenette with a quiet sigh. "I won't bore you with the details, but I was in a dark place for a long time after Soji died. As much as I resented my parents, part of me believed them; I convinced myself that my quirk was a curse, that it brought nothing but pain. Perhaps a part of me still believes that, even after two decades of evidence to the contrary."
Sir reached out and gripped onto the counter with both hands as he spoke, fingers squeezing tight around the edge for a few brief moments before relaxing all at once.
"For years, I was lost- a ship adrift in fog with no lighthouse in sight. Until I found a new guiding light- one that shone just as bright as my brother's." Turning back to face her, Nighteye gave a warm smile, one that Kendo felt spreading across her own face in kind. "I dragged myself out of the muck, and I made it my life's mission to stand by his side. And for many years, I did. I loved him just as much as I loved Soji."
Another pause, and Sir's smile slowly faded, his gaze turning back towards his memories.
"And when he was lying on that hospital bed, his body torn apart and his heart barely beating, I had a moment of weakness. I surrendered to my instincts, I went against all logic, and I looked far into his future- just as I'd done with my brother, just as I swore I'd never do again. I could have stopped after a month, after I was sure he'd survive his wound, but I didn't. I allowed emotion to overtake me, and I watched as far as the reel of film would allow."
He took a step back towards her, his voice and expression heavy with pain and remorse.
"And I saw through his eyes as he was thrown off the edge of a roof by a figure dressed in black, and plummeted to the ground, helpless. As he lied broken and bleeding, his last breaths fading away and a sobbing woman kneeling over him. The image was murky, so it wasn't until the day we met that I realized that woman was you."
Itsuka's eyes widened in shock, her heart freezing in her chest.
"You… from the beginning, you knew that I'd…"
"That you would witness his death? Yes, I knew." His eyes dropped briefly towards the ground, his expression tinged with shame. "It was my burden to carry, not yours. My final years with Soji and Toshinori were haunted by the specter of their deaths- my relationships with them became consumed by fruitless efforts to save them from what I knew in my heart was inevitable. I couldn't pass the same curse on to you. I couldn't corrupt the time you had left with him."
"I could've handled it," Itsuka murmured, half to him and half to herself, although she wasn't sure whether she even believed her own words. Forcing herself to set the matter aside, she steeled herself for one more attempt at her initial request, glancing back up to meet Nighteye's gaze. "We can't change the past, but we can still do things differently now. I know I'm asking a lot, Sir- I know it would be painful for you no matter the outcome. But please, at least consider-"
"I can't do it again, Itsuka." Sir's voice cut through her protest like a knife, on the verge of breaking with each syllable. "I can't do it again, because I have to believe that we can save you." A single tear rolled down his cheek, followed by a second on the opposite side. "If I look into your eyes, and I see that I can't… everything would fall apart. I wouldn't be able to…" He trailed off, leaning back against the counter for support, eyes squeezed shut to hold back more tears; in the end, he left his thought unfinished, but his meaning was clear all the same.
After a long moment of silent contemplation, Kendo gave a solemn nod, breathing out a quiet sigh of acceptance.
"I understand, Sir. But… can I propose a compromise?"
Nighteye raised one eyebrow, wordlessly inviting her to continue.
"Do what you did before I went to see Toga. Look one day ahead, and check if I'll have another Overflow in the immediate future." Itsuka raised her left forearm and gazed down at the bandage, her brows furrowed. "The Vestiges warned me about the one this morning, but only right before it happened. I need to be able to plan for them further ahead, to make sure I can get somewhere secure and away from any people before they come."
"…That's a reasonable request," Nighteye finally conceded with a sigh and a faint grin. "You know, you've always had a much better talent for negotiating than All Might. He had boundless charisma, but rhetoric wasn't exactly his strong suit."
"You learn how to compromise real quick when you grow up with multiple younger siblings," Itsuka replied, returning the smile. "Trust me, it's a necessity for survival."
Sir gave a faint hint of a chuckle, then reached out his hand and laid it on her shoulder as his quirk activated and his expression grew deadly serious once more.
"I'll look three days ahead for now," he declared, his eyes aglow with dull purple light. "For the time being, we'll repeat this process every seventy-two hours until the doctors devise a method to predict the Overflows without my assistance. As before, I won't be examining every detail, merely watching for any large-scale indicators of another incident with One For All."
"Understood." Pursing her lips, Itsuka felt her heart quicken in anticipation as Nighteye's Foresight continued to work in silence; the lingering pain in her muscles from this morning's Overflow reared up again as if on cue, a vivid reminder of what she might be facing again before long.
If the second one was intense enough to melt gravel and knock me unconscious, what the hell's the third one going to be like? What are they gonna be like a month from now? A shudder of dread passed through her body at the thought. At this rate, I'll end up being walking bomb way before One For All kills me.
Finally, after a tense silence that might as well have lasted an eternity, Nighteye pulled away, his quirk receding; his mouth was set in a firm line, his brows knit in concentration.
"Fifty-seven hours," Sir declared in as clinical of a tone as he could manage, eyes squeezed briefly shut as she reached up to adjust his glasses. "That's how long your current reprieve will last. The next Overflow will occur two and a half days from now, at roughly 8:00PM. I'll inform the rest of Fenrir's leadership so that we can plan accordingly. Best Jeanist, Mirko, and President Kengen are already aware of the broad strokes of your condition, but they'll need to know the details."
"Okay." Kendo nodded, flexing her hands back into fists in an attempt to steel her resolve. "Two and a half days. I can handle that. Eight in the evening is better than four in the morning, at least."
"There's one more upside," Sir continued, one brow raised. "The next Overflow will be less powerful than the one that occurred this morning, closer in strength to the first. This may be thanks to KH-129, or perhaps today's Overflow was especially potent due to the fact that you unlocked another of the Vestiges' quirks yesterday; it doesn't seem that you'll gain access to any more of them during the period I examined. In summary, we can't say for certain which factors affect each incident's relative strength without further data, but this is a considerably better outcome than a direct upward curve."
"You can say that again," Itsuka replied, doubling over in a heaving sigh of relief with her hands planted on her hips. "That's the best goddamn news I've heard all morning." When she glanced back up, though, Nighteye seemed distracted, gazing off into the distance with an expression lost in contemplation. "So, uh… see anything else interesting in there?"
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Nighteye answered with an attempt at a reassuring smile. "What's important is that we've pinpointed the next Overflow."
Once again, though, Kendo saw faint glimmers of other emotions hidden just beneath the surface of Nighteye's demeanor- sadness, concern, and most prominently, bittersweet nostalgia.
Huh. I wonder what that's about.
"Itsuka!"
Kendo's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps and two familiar voices crying out in unison; before she could so much as turn to face their source, she was being mobbed by Tetsutetsu and Jiro, wrapped into a group hug by two frantic pairs of arms.
"So that's where you were hiding, huh?" Trailing a few paces behind them, Mirko stepped into view, her muscular arms crossed and an amused smirk on her face. "Feels like we've been trying to track you two down for ages now. The others all had to head out, but these two insisted on staying until they found you."
Behind her grin, though, Usagiyama's eyes betrayed an unmistakable tinge of deep concern; she'd likely overheard at least part of Kendo's conversation with Nighteye thanks to her quirk, but Itsuka was forced to set that aside for the moment as Tetsutetsu and Kyoka proceeded to bombard her with a barrage of questions so rapid-fire that she could hardly discern who was asking what.
"Are you okay?!"
"Did the doctors figure out what happened?"
"You're really pale, did you eat breakfast?"
"Do you need some water?"
"How's your arm?"
"Jesus, you two- slow down." Mirko stepped forward and clapped a hand on either of their shoulders, gently pulling them back out of the clumsy embrace. "Let her breathe, alright? She's been through some rough shit this morning, but you don't have to smother her. Kendo, you good?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm alright," Itsuka stammered, glancing rapidly between the three of them as her mind searched for the proper response- for a fitting half-truth, comforting enough to reassure them while still withholding all the most important details. Just for now, she reminded herself, her brows furrowing briefly in discontent. Just until I can plan out how to tell them the truth.
"The doctors said… well, they said there's some abnormal readings with my quirk factors, and they think that's what caused it, but they gave me some medicine to keep it from happening again- preventative treatment." She forced her mouth into a well-rehearsed smile, fighting through the pain of another sudden pang of nausea from the medication in question. "And I'm already feeling a lot better- I'll be back out in the field by the end of the day."
"…Babe, are you sure that's a good idea?" Tetsutetsu reached out and clasped her left hand in his own, his brows knit with concern as he gazed down at the bandages covering her wrist and the faint outline of the two jagged black scars beneath them. "Listen, Kyoka told me about the first… incident that happened the other day, before the interrogation. I get that you didn't want to make me worry, but now, after it happened again?" He lifted his gaze back up to meet hers, his grey eyes wide and earnest. "Even with the medicine, maybe the best thing would be to take it easy for a while."
Jiro nodded in agreement, taking hold of Kendo's right hand.
"Exactly. Whatever the tests said about your quirk factors, you need to let the medicine do its work. Just get some rest, and let us handle the frontlines for a few days."
"Guys, I'm fine- really, it's not a big deal." Kendo shrugged her shoulders, watching out of the corner of her eye as Nighteye and Mirko stepped off to one corner of the lounge and began to converse in hushed tones. "Sir checked, and I'll be okay for the next few days. Besides, I really don't wanna be cooped up here in this hospital any longer than I have to."
"It doesn't have to be here," Jiro countered, tightening her grip on Kendo's hand as her worried expression deepened. "We'll go back to the apartment, I'll stock the kitchen with all my favorite foods for when I'm sick, send you all my latest playlists, Yui can bring some of those teas she loves, and you can just relax for as long as you want. Focus on yourself for as long as you need, without thinking about Seraph or the Syndicate or any of that bullshit."
"And I'll bring over my PlayStation and all my games," Tetsutetsu chimed in with a widening grin. "Maybe some weights, too, if you wanna keep up with your gym routine."
"Guys, this is a really sweet idea, but I can't just…" She squeezed her eyes shut in exasperation, pulling back her hands to run them down her face. "I can't do that- I would be miserable if I tried. Less than twenty-four hours ago, my boots were covered in Awase's blood. I watched Gang Orca die in front of me, saw Kinoko's stomach cut open. And the one leading all of it was Kamakiri Togaru. Our classmate, our friend- at least, that's what I thought. How am I supposed to go home and 'relax' with all of that still in my head?!"
"W-We don't know if it was really him," Tetsutetsu protested weakly, his eyes lowered to the floor. "It could've been mind control, like with Uraraka."
"Maybe they're all being controlled," Jiro added, desperation in her eyes. "Kamakiri, Monoma, Tokoyami…" She stopped short of the next name, as if the word itself had caught in her throat. "…Pandora. All being puppeted by those implants, or brainwashed by Synapse."
"Whether they're brainwashed or not, our job is the same- they need to be captured and brought in as soon as possible. That goes for all of the Syndicate, Seraph included. And it's my responsibility to make sure it happens- it's been my responsibility ever since the Black Day. Nothing's going to change that."
Itsuka had begun to pace back and forth in front of them as she spoke, her body tensed and her cheeks flushed red; her mind had shifted instinctively into a defensive stance.
"This war isn't the type of thing I can just 'take a vacation' from. I have a hard enough time just sleeping every night- every time I close my eyes, my brain starts thinking about what they're going to do next, who they're going to kill or torment, whose mind they're going to defile. They won't just stop because I decide to take a vacation- if they notice I'm gone, they'll probably take the opportunity to stage another attack, then post a propaganda video about how I'm slacking on the job."
"Whatever they throw at us, we can handle it," Tetsutetsu countered, thumping his fist against his chest. "President Kengen trusts all of us, or else we wouldn't be on Fenrir- don't you trust us too?"
"Of course I do! It's just…" She trailed off and cradled her head in her hands for a moment, wincing as another pang of nausea slammed into her stomach. Tetsu and Kyoka both started towards her, but she waved them away, fighting through the pain to meet their eyes once more. "All Might would never be able to quit until he caught them, and neither can I. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is."
An uncomfortable silence followed, broken by Nighteye a few moments later.
"Shall I inform President Kengen of your decision, then?" Sir met Kendo's gaze and started towards the hallway, hands clasped behind his back. "I can go speak to her on your behalf- you should stay here with your friends."
"No, it's okay." Itsuka shook her head and followed after him, her expression somber. "I need to be there- to talk to her face-to-face. Let's go."
"Itsuka, please."
Jiro reached out and grabbed hold of Kendo's arm from behind; as Itsuka turned back to reassure her, Kyoka suddenly pulled her into a kiss, gently pressing their lips together. Surprised at first, Itsuka reciprocated the gesture, her cheeks flushed slightly red in embarrassment as she recalled that Nighteye and Mirko were both watching. When they broke apart, there were tears welling Kyoka's eyes.
"Please, stay. Let's… let's go home, okay? The three of us, together."
"I can't, Kyoka." Kendo reached up and stroked Jiro's cheek with one hand, trying and failing to give her a reassuring smile. "I want to- I swear, I I can't."
"Do you trust us?" Jiro asked in quiet yet urgent voice, pulling Kendo's hand away from her face and gently intertwining their fingers.
"Of course I do." Kendo repeated, blinking in confusion.
"Then why are you lying, Itsuka?"
Despair and disappointment spread across Kyoka's face, and Kendo felt her eyes widen in dismay, flinching backwards as if she'd been slapped. She opened her mouth to dispute the allegation, but faltered, cheeks flushing red. Once again, she was the guilty party- there was no defense, and Kyoka could see right through her.
"…Tonight." She finally managed, eyes lowered to the floor in scarcely concealed shame and remorse. "We'll talk tonight, and I'll tell you everything. There are things I have to do first, though. Responsibilities I can't avoid. I'm sorry. I know it's not fair."
At that, Itsuka turned and started down the hallway after Nighteye, biting down on her lip in bitter frustration as Mirko stepped forward to reassure the pair. As they rounded the corner towards Kengen's room, though, hurried footsteps sounded behind them, and Kendo glanced back to find Tetsutetsu standing a few paces away, his expression torn between affection and despair.
"I almost forgot- you've probably been missing this. Kyoka had me swing by your place and grab it." He pulled Kendo's phone from his pocket and held it out in her direction, a faint hint of a grin on his face.
"Thank you, Tetsu." She leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his mouth as she took the phone in hand and swiftly shoved it into her costume's hip pocket, unwilling to glance at the notifications for the time being.
"Kyoka understands why you have to keep doing what you're doing," he declared as he pulled away, brows knit in contemplation. "I get it, too. But this past month, all her friends that have been hurt or killed or… or worse… it's been hard her- on everyone, but her especially." Tetsu paused for a beat, his voice and expression softening. "She's just scared of losing you too. And… so am I."
"…You won't," Kendo lied, smiling sadly.
"Will you at least still come this afternoon?" Tetsutetsu asked, frowning, and Itsuka felt her brows furrow in confusion at the sudden change in subject.
"Come to what?"
He blinked in surprise, though his expression swiftly shifted to one of understanding.
"To Uraraka's funeral."
"Oh god, I'd totally…" She trailed off and shook her head in exasperation, then glanced briefly over to Nighteye; he gave her a small nod of encouragement. "Y-Yeah. Of course."
"I'm glad," Tetsutetsu replied, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on her forearm. "One last thing, before you go. I know what I'm about to say might sound like an insult, but I swear, it's not."
Tetsu's voice and demeanor had grown serious, his voice dropping in volume to ensure that only Itsuka could hear him.
"You may be his successor, but you're not All Might, and you don't have to force yourself to become him."
"I…" Itsuka's eyes blinked shut for a few brief moments as she tried to compose as benign of a response as possible; there was no use to getting in an argument at a time like this. "…I understand what you mean."
"Understanding isn't the same as believing," Tetsu replied quietly, brows knit together in concern. "I know you wanna fix all this yourself, Itsuka. To get payback, justice, whatever you wanna call it. To save everyone you can. Me and Kyoka want the same things. But there's only so much weight you can carry on your own before your body gives out, no matter how strong you are." He gave her bicep a playful squeeze, a soft grin on his face in spite of the profound worry in his eyes. "Please, just don't forget that there are people standing right beside you who love you, and who don't like watching you suffer. People who want to help you carry that weight, if you'd let them."
Kendo nodded silently; as she gazed back at him, she could feel herself teetering at the edge of a great pit of pain and despair deep within her chest- one that had been steadily widening from the moment Yochimura delivered his prognosis. One wrong step, and the pit would swallow her whole, overwhelming her with a flood of emotions- her façade would break, and everything she'd been holding back would come spilling out at once. Sucking in a deep breath, Itsuka stepped back away from the edge and reached out to caress Tetsutetsu's cheek, a bittersweet smile on her face.
"I won't forget."
Syndicate Headquarters, Kyoto
14 April, 11:32AM
"And in addition to the contacts, we'll need to dye your hair, of course. You have a rather distinct appearance, after all, so these are just some of the basic measures necessary to keep you from being recognized, Shoto. You can leave the matter in my capable hands, though- disguises have been a matter of necessity in a vast majority of operations over the past two years, so I've become quite adept at crafting them!"
"O-Of course- that makes sense. And my scar? We'll need to hide it with makeup, right?"
"Not to worry, Shoto- I've planned for that as well."
Perched in a brown leather armchair, Monoma watched with a faint hint of a grin on his lips as Yaoyorozu continued to fuss and fret around their captive, glancing away from the pair every now and then to take another sip of tea. The pair had moved on from the dining room to Pandora's suite some time ago as they continued their preparations for the afternoon's mission; this particular penthouse often served as her de facto base of operations when she wasn't needed elsewhere for missions or meetings, and as such, she commanded a spacious set of rooms with an attached study and a lavish, marble-floored bathroom. Over the past half-hour, Chaudron had largely been content to sit back and spectate as Pandora spun her web around their newest 'Recruit', briefing Coldflame on the plan of attack and the various Syndicate protocols and tactics he'd have to memorize before moving on to cover the basics of disguising his identity.
It's safe to say that deceiving him will be the easy part. The true test will be whether he can deceive the heroes without realizing it.
Given that Monoma served as one of the Syndicate's primary points of contact with candidates for recruitment- a duty he shared with Toga, thanks to his ability to copy her quirk- he was already quite familiar with the delicate art of winning a target's trust through deception, and watching Yaoyorozu's skills of deception at work was proving to be a thoroughly entertaining diversion while he waited to speak with Midoriya; once Seraph finished his meeting with Overhaul, there were several urgent matters to attend to.
Namely, his apparent intent to bend the knee to a cult of psychotic quirk supremacists. Neito felt one of his brows twitch in frustration; his fingers tightened instinctively around the handle of his mug, straining the porcelain close to its breaking point. Selling us off to the highest bidder, as if we were some fat tech corporation up for grabs on the open market.
Todoroki- or 'Magician', as Neito had selected for his new codename- was currently seated at Yaoyorozu's makeup counter, doing the best to hide his confusion and unease as Pandora scrutinized his facial structure in a tripartite mirror and ran her fingers through his shoulder-length hair.
"Yes, I don't think we'll need any further facial modifications- you've always been handsome, Todoroki, but I doubt that you'd be spotted by your nose or jawline alone once we deal with your hair and eyes."
"Careful not to inflate his ego too much," Neito called, his grin widening as his Shoto turned and met his eyes from across the room, brows furrowed in frustration. "You know it's already large enough as is. Daddy's little prince, born with the perfect quirk, endlessly doted on by all his peers- it's a wonder he can still stand with a head so swollen."
In contrast to Momo's kindness and sympathy, Neito made no effort to hide his contempt and lack of trust in their captive; after all, a charade this intricate required someone to play the role of the skeptic. As foolish and naïve as he is, Chaudron mused, sipping again at his tea as he continued to return Coldflame's gaze, even Todoroki Shoto might grow suspicious of our true intent if everyone in the Syndicate rushed to welcome him with open arms. If we are to truly convince him that our recruitment offer is genuine, then there must be some pushback- that much would only be natural. It's always a delicate balancing act, winning the target's trust without giving away the game, and the fact that he's also trying to deceive us makes this process even more deliciously complex than usual- a deft touch is required.
"Pay him no mind, Shoto," Yaoyorozu cut in before Todoroki could reply, drawing his attention back in her direction with a gentle brush of her hand along his shoulder; as she spoke, she spared Monoma a brief glance and a teasing grin. "Even after all this time, Neito remains rather… touchy when it comes to the subject of Class A; seeing the two of us work together is clearly proving quite difficult for him to stomach."
"Oh, on the contrary!" Neito countered with a chuckle, draining the last of his tea before rising to his feet with a sigh of satisfaction and advancing across the study towards the pair. "Personally, I think it's quite inspiring to watch a three-year member of that cult of self-obsessed media darlings be reformed by one of his own." He drew to a halt in the entryway to the master bathroom and leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed and lips curled into a wide, beaming smile. "Your story of redemption is truly poetic, Lord Shoto- Shakespeare could never hope to match such a beautifully woven tale!"
"Glad you're enjoying yourself," Todoroki murmured, one brow twitching in poorly concealed frustration. "I'll try my best to stay entertaining."
"Moving on," Yaoyorozu interjected, gently wrapping her fingers around Todoroki's chin and guiding his head back towards the mirror, "let's discuss the matter of your facial hair, Shoto- it can either stay or go, provided that we use dye in the former case, but I'd prefer the latter, truth be told."
"Yeah, that's fine by me," Todoroki replied hesitantly, brushing his fingers along the red-white stubble that had grown in over the course of his captivity, divided by color down the middle of his face. "It's been getting a bit scratchy lately, so I say we go ahead and shave it."
"Excellent!" Momo clapped her hands together in delight, then reached out and tapped at the display screen on her left gauntlet. "Seraph, has your meeting with Overhaul concluded?"
"Just finishing up now," Midoriya replied a beat later, his voice echoing off the bathroom's lavish marble flooring and counters. "Shall I join you and Magician?"
"Please do- and bring Overhaul with you, if he's available. His quirk would speed this process up considerably."
"No promises," came the response, a slight tinge of amusement audible in Izuku's tone, "but I'll see what I can do- he does seem to be in an amenable mood this morning."
Well, it seems I'll be waiting a bit longer for that discussion, Monoma mused, making a conscious effort to keep his annoyance from showing outwardly; he had an image to maintain for both Todoroki and Yaoyorozu, after all. In the end, Neito's satisfied grin only twitched for a fraction of a second, and thankfully, neither of the pair seemed to take note, swiftly returning to their banal back-and-forth over the minutiae of Shoto's disguise.
Midoriya has been harder to pin down than usual these past two days. Monoma's brows furrowed ever so slightly, the voice in his head taking center stage as Pandora and Coldflame's conversation swiftly faded to background chatter. Ever since we received the footage of his double's negotiations with the MLA, he's always been too busy with something or other to make time for a serious conversation, despite my numerous requests to that effect. First, it was preparations for Scimitar's debut- understandable, given the magnitude of the operation. But afterward, to claim he was busy planning for today's farce with 'Magician'? Nonsense. Unable to keep the growing frustration from his expression any longer, Monoma turned away from Pandora and Coldflame and strolled back into the study, pacing back in forth in front of the dozens of neatly organized Creation schematics that adorned two of the room's walls and pretending to study them. We all know Yaoyorozu is handling all logistical and tactical matters for this operation, that's been common knowledge for over a week. He was avoiding me- that much is crystal clear.
And now, the morning after the Liberation Army infiltrates and bugs our facilities, he spends his time cozying up to our new overlords and fornicating with his subordinates. Neito's hands curled momentarily into fists, but swiftly relaxed again, as he pinched at the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Calm yourself, Neito- be reasonable. It's a normal human response to stress, not some exotic taboo. Their timing could have been better, yes, but you can hardly fault them for succumbing to their more primal urges on occasion.
Unable to contact him for most of the early morning while he was test-piloting Talos, another of Hatsume's babies, Monoma had attempted to meet with Midoriya an hour prior, striding confidently into Seraph's office ten minutes after his call with the MLA was scheduled to end. To his distinctly unpleasant surprise, he'd been treated to the sight of Izuku, Mei, and Hitoshi in various stages of disrobement and in the midst of various intimate acts, and swiftly took his leave without exchanging so much as a word with the trio. Returning to the dining room and Compress and La Brava's morning tea, Chaudron had resolved to wait politely until Synapse and Longshot took their leave, only to watch from afar as Overhaul jumped his spot in line.
I hope they locked the door after I left, Neito mused, thumbing idly through one of the books on Yaoyorozu's shelf as his momentary burst of anger subsided. Otherwise, it's a stroke of luck that Chisaki knocked instead of barging in- knowing his temperament, he'd likely have disintegrated the entire building on instinct if he walked in on the three of them in the same state that I did. Sparing himself a brief, quiet chuckle, Neito closed the book and ran one hand through his hair with a sigh of exasperation. It's enough to worry about our plans being exposed to the heroes- I shouldn't have to worry about Midoriya's entanglements being exposed to our colleagues. Between this morning's events and Yaoyorozu's heavy-handed attempts to seduce him while Toga is in Tartarus, it feels as if it's becoming a full-time job.
In contrast with his relationship with Toga, which ranged from ostentatious to borderline exhibitionist depending on Himiko's mood, Midoriya took active measures to conceal the extent of his intimacy with Hatsume and Shinso, for reasons that seemed relatively self-evident to Monoma. New members of the Syndicate were always hesitant to accept the authority of Seraph and the other Founders at first because of their youth, and the revelation that Midoriya was in romantically involved with his top two lieutenants would only make that hurdle all the higher. Perhaps more importantly, though, it helped keep Midoriya's outwardly visible emotional weaknesses to a minimum; any heroes or rival criminals looking for an easy way to gain psychological leverage over Seraph saw only Carmilla, whose infamous reputation for violence and psychopathy helped to discourage any such course of action. In a figurative sense, Himiko filled largely the same role as the warning coloration of a poison dart frog or the plumes of a male peacock, drawing the attention of any would-be predators or rivals towards herself, to the benefit of Mei and Hitoshi.
I often wonder how much of that arrangement is coincidence and how much is by design, Neito mused, glancing back towards the bathroom; at the moment, Pandora was in the midst of shaving Todoroki's stubble with a straight razor- part of her attempt to rapidly foster a sense of intimacy between them, and in so doing lower his guard- as they both chuckled over some joke Monoma was too far away to hear. I'd like to think I'm somewhat skilled at determining when attraction is being feigned; Midoriya's infatuation with Toga can't all be an act, as opposed to the farce currently playing out in the other room. He's simply spent too much time with her over the years, known her far too intimately- and carnally, as she's often keen to remind us- not to develop an emotional attachment. It's more likely that he's simply content to exploit a set of circumstances he encountered by chance and luck.
Regardless of the precise motives behind it, the apparent gentlemen's agreement between the involved parties seemed to have been largely successful thus far; as far as Neito knew, he was the only one aside from Himiko herself who was aware of the situation, and given that Carmilla hadn't murdered or maimed Longshot or Synapse thus far, her tendency toward jealousy must have somehow been mollified.
Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. Neito's grin returned, and his gaze drifted over towards the bedroom suite's entrance as Midoriya strode through the open door with Overhaul in tow. As usual, Chisaki wore a thoroughly unenthused expression, and his scowl only deepened as he brushed past Monoma, throwing Chaudron a spiteful sideways glance.
"Ah, is something the matter, Overhaul? Perhaps your little…"
Monoma trailed off mid-insult, his eyes widening in alarm as his gaze shifted instinctively from Chisaki to Midoriya, and he realized with a start that Izuku's artificial left forearm was simply gone, nowhere in sight. That's not normal- not normal at all. He only ever takes it off to shower and sleep, as far as I know.
"Seraph, is…" Neito paused for a beat to collect his thoughts, still blinking in surprise as Midoriya glanced back in his direction with cold, emotionless green eyes. "…Is everything alright?"
"Ah, my arm?" Shifting to an air of confident nonchalance in the blink of an eye, Izuku glanced down at his amputated limb and shrugged his shoulders. "Mei wanted to make some adjustments to the servomotors, and as you're well aware, Neito, I'm quite powerless to stop her when she has a goal in mind. I'm sure she'll have it ready for me well before this afternoon's operation."
That's a lie, Neito knew, exchanging a brief, furtive glance with Momo from across the room that confirmed she shared his confusion. When it comes to her truly prized babies, Mei always works on a copy when she's experimenting with new additions or modifications- the risk of damaging or destroying the original is too high otherwise, and she can be surprisingly sentimental about these things.
"Hatsume does seem quite… strong-willed," Todoroki added hesitantly, still testing the waters to see whether his input was welcome. "I look forward to working with her more. If there's time, maybe we could collaborate on some support items to enhance my abilities before the mission."
Oh, how cute. All their heads turned in unison toward Todoroki, and Monoma's smirk widened as Coldflame flinched momentarily at the sudden shift in attention. Already trying to act like you're part of the team, hm? Your sheer gall is breathtaking, but I suppose we'll need to indulge you.
"My goodness, another brilliant idea from our resident genius!" Neito clapped his hands together in mock satisfaction and strode back into the spacious bathroom, grinning eagerly as he clapped an affectionate hand on Shoto's shoulder. "And suppose you'd have no choice but to very reluctantly recommend that we remove those quirk-suppressors for the testing process?"
Todoroki's eyes flit down to the metal bracelets fixed about his wrists, and his face flushed red in a mix of frustration and embarrassment.
"Wha- no, of course I wouldn't ask something like that!"
"Surely not, indeed!" Monoma made sure to seem properly aghast at his own words, laying his free hand across his chest. "I hope you can forgive me for making such a reckless assumption, Lord Shoto."
Running a hand down his face with a deep sigh of genuine exasperation, Todoroki paused for a beat before speaking up again.
"…Listen, I know you don't trust me, Chaudron, and at this rate, it doesn't seem like anything I say is going to change that. So could you at least give me the chance to prove my loyalty with my actions?"
"Oh, rest assured, I intend to watch your actions very closely."
"Both of you, quiet, before I fuse your goddamn mouths shut." Overhaul stepped up to Monoma's side, gazing towards Neito in the vanity's mirror with utter contempt in his golden eyes. Gesturing with one gloved hand for Monoma to step away, Chisaki glanced back to Midoriya.
"Alright, what am I doing? Let's make this quick, since I seem to be the only one here who values his own fucking time."
Midoriya nodded in turn to Yaoyorozu, who paused for a brief moment to clear her throat before speaking up; it was only the faintest hint of anxiety, but still enough to remind Chaudron that Pandora found Overhaul's presence somewhat disquieting.
"Well, first of all, I've selected a shade of blue hair dye for him, and I was hoping that your quirk could help us apply it instantly rather than waiting for the usual-"
"Pass," Overhaul declared bluntly, shaking his head. "I'm not doing something you can do yourself, and I'm not a goddamn barber."
"I'm sure it would only take a moment, and it would save us quite a bit of prep time. Please, if you could just-"
"I said pass, so drop it, princess. There isn't enough money in the world to convince me to touch some teenage brat's oily, mite-infested scalp."
Still seated at the vanity between Chisaki and Yaoyorozu, Todoroki gingerly reached a hand up towards his hairline, his brows furrowed in sudden, silent concern.
"Fine, so be it," Pandora replied with a huff, arms crossed. "His scar, then. Could you remove it?"
"Remove it?" Shoto asked, blinking in surprise. "I… I thought we'd just be using makeup."
"Hm."
Roundly ignoring Shoto's confusion, Overhaul responded to Pandora's request with a simple grunt of affirmation; in one swift and fluid motion, he removed his left glove, reached down, and pressed three fingers against Coldflame's cheek. After a brief, almost imperceptible shifting of flesh, the distinctive red burn mark simply melted away, fading into Shoto's skin.
"There, done. That it?"
"Yes, I think that will be sufficient for now," Pandora replied with a curt nod of appreciation. "My thanks for your assistance."
"Yeah, yeah." Chisaki waved a dismissive hand in Yaoyorozu's direction as he turned and started for the door. "I'm headed back to finish prepping. See you at the mission site."
"We should take our leave as well," Midoriya patted his remaining hand on Monoma's shoulder and gestured towards the door with a faint grin. "I think Pandora has things well in hand from here, and we wouldn't want to distract her, would we?"
"Hmm." Nodding, Monoma lingered for a brief moment to watch Todoroki's reaction in the mirror; Coldflame appeared to be at a loss for words, his eyes still wide and his mouth slightly agape. "Yes, I'm right behind you."
"What a lovely gift we've given him,"Neito murmured as he followed Izuku back through the study and paused to retrieve his mug and saucer, keeping his voice low enough that Shoto couldn't hear. "We finally freed him from the shackles of father, and yet he still intends to run right back into Endeavor's arms at the first chance we give him. It's tragic, really."
Midoriya chuckled, but otherwise remained silent until they reached the penthouse's kitchen, watching a glint of amusement in his hollow green eyes as Monoma diligently rinsed out the mug and placed it in the dishwasher- he abhorred dirty dishes, after all, and preferred to keep the kitchen spotless whenever possible. Though that's not an easy task with slobs like Twice and Dabi around. Despite his flaws, at least Overhaul understands the value of proper hygiene.
"You haven't been trying to meet with me so desperately all morning just to talk about Todoroki Shoto, have you, though?" As he spoke, Midoriya retrieved another mug from the cabinet and filled their electric kettle with water from the sink before setting it to boil. "As fascinating as his plight may be, I suspect there's something else on your mind."
With the whirring hum of the kettle filling the air, Midoriya locked eyes with Monoma, then gestured with one finger to several different points around the room: the pantry shelves, beneath the sink, behind the fridge, a silent reminder of the locations of the Meta Liberation Army's bugs throughout the kitchen.
I'm aware of them, Monoma wanted to snap, stung by the mere implication that he could possibly forget their presence; he'd been the one to advocate for destroying or hacking them when La Brava first detected the devices in the early hours of the morning, after all. Smothering his annoyance, Neito managed a curt nod, and forced a grin back onto his face.
"Yes, indeed. I've been looking over the plans for today's operation, and frankly speaking, I'm a bit concerned about the ingress route that our team will be taking to reach Nighteye's agency."
"Oh?" One brow raised, Midoriya plucked a piece of paper from the fridge door- a grocery list for their next shopping run- and set it down on the counter next to Neito, leaving the blank side facing upwards. "Do tell, Neito- you know that I'm always open to making adjustments to our plans, as long as they're justified."
"Of course- it's just that my suggestions might be easier to explain in situ, with the layout of the neighborhood in view." Now speaking largely on autopilot, Neito plucked a pen from his chest pocket and began to write a series of coordinates on the paper; as intended, any scratches from the pen were masked by the sound of the kettle. "Perhaps we could make a short visit to the area? Just a brief bit of scouting to review a few alternate routes."
"As long as we take the usual precautions against detection, I don't see why not," Midoriya replied with a shrug. "Come on, then- let's not waste any time."
Striding briskly through the penthouse, they quickly reached Mei's workshop, a converted guest bedroom which had long since ceased to resemble its original form, aside from the sleeping bag rolled up on one corner beneath a bank of monitors where the bed used to be. The walls were coated in soundproofing panels to spare the rest of the apartment the noise of her work, and were streaked with grease stains and burn marks. A hazy aura of smoke and sweat greeted them as soon as the heavily fortified steel door slid open, and Monoma felt his nose wrinkle in displeasure at the all-too-familiar odor. Across the room, Hatsume was currently tinkering away with the skeleton of a sniper rifle at her welding bench, while Kurogiri waited patiently in a chair by the doorway, arms crossed and yellow eyes closed, a steaming cup of tea perched on the side table to his right. At the moment, he was on standby to create a warp gate to Etna or any of the workshops at the Syndicate's other facilities should Longshot find herself in need of specific supplies that weren't on hand here in Kyoto; this tended to be his default assignment when he wasn't needed for an active operation.
"Yo, Izuku!" As usual, Mei demonstrated an uncanny talent for knowing when someone entered one of her workshops, even over the sound of welding torches and blasting pop music with her back to the door. Swiveling around in her chair and lifting up her facemask to reveal a wide, manic grin, she hopped to her feet and bounded across the room towards them, practically prancing with joy. "Great news, I've got your new arm ready to go!"
Mei paused to lower the volume of her music with a tap on her gauntlet, then grabbed the mechanical arm in question from a side table, rocking it back in forth in her arms like a newborn before holding it out towards Izuku with an expression of radiant, beaming pride.
"This model's got some special little treats for ya- I added a miniature version of the plasma cutter from the Furies, plus the same electrified hook and cable that I've got in mine, and a wrist launcher that can shoot three different types of darts- sedative, neurotoxin, and hallucinogenic! Almost completely silent, too- perfect for stealth missions!"
"All that and the concealed blade?" Midoriya let out a warm chuckle as he held out his severed left elbow for Hatsume to do the honors of attaching the prosthetic. "And yet you managed to keep the design as compact as ever- you've outdone yourself again, Mei."
"Flatterer," Mei shot back with a giggle as she fastened the limb's connection points and adjusted the nerve sensors that allowed Midoriya to manipulate the limb with the same speed and precision as if it were flesh and blood. "You always say that."
"How can I help it if each of your babies proves worthy of the same praise?"
"Well, I guess you've got a point." Hatsume paused her work on the sensors to shoot Izuku a playful wink, and it took all of Monoma's willpower not to roll his eyes at the sight. "Can't fault you for telling the truth, after all."
For god's sake, Neito found himself praying, please don't start flirting in front of me. I've already been forced to witness more than enough of your intimacy this morning.
Monoma caught a momentary wince of pain on Midoriya's face as Hatsume secured the limb in place, but it vanished just as quickly, and Izuku's gaze flit suddenly to the right to meet Neito's own. Driven by some subconscious instinct, Monoma found himself averting his eyes and his cheeks flushing a faint red, unable to shake the worry that he might have angered Midoriya merely by witnessing such a display of weakness, however slight.
No, no, that's ridiculous- once again, I'm reading meaning into the minutiae of his behavior that simply isn't there. A bad habit, in need of correction.
"Working like a charm," Izuku declared a moment later, drawing Neito's eyes back in his direction as he flexed the mechanical fingers back and forth. "As always, Mei, I'm in your debt."
"At this rate, you'll be in deep shit if I ever decide to collect." She shot back with a teasing grin, hands perched on her hips. "So, what are you boys up to? Mission prep?"
"In a sense," Monoma replied, eager to assert his presence as his eyes drifted between the various bugged points in the workshop's walls. "We're going to scout out the mission site a bit, do some last-minute recon."
Pausing, Chaudron beckoned for Kurogiri to approach them; as he rose to his feet and started across the room towards the trio, Monoma held out the scrap of paper, one finger to his lips as Kurogiri took it in hand. His yellow eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment, then widened in understanding- once he'd given them a nod, Monoma clapped his hands together in satisfaction.
"Alright, then. You know where to send us, I trust."
"Of course- I'll begin probing for an optimal location near the mission site."
"Very good," Seraph chimed in, glancing from Kurogiri back towards Longshot. "Mei, dear, one of your stealth-focused babies would be quite helpful, with so many heroes prowling the streets and skies in Tokyo these days."
"Coming right up!"
While Kurogiri created a warp gate at the center of the room, Hatsume began to dig through the cluttered cabinets beneath one of her workbenches, finally producing two folded blankets made of a lightweight, silvery material. Tossing them nonchalantly towards each of the pair in turn, Hatsume gave them one final mock salute before hopping back into the chair at her welding station.
"Best of luck, boys! Now if you'll excuse me, this baby's just begging for mama's attention."
"The same to you, Mei. Shall we, then?"
Izuku turned back to Neito and gestured towards the waiting warp gate, and they strode through together, emerging out into the verdant grass of a vast, picturesque alpine meadow. Towering mountain peaks surrounded them on all sides, marked with patches of white from lingering snow drifts, and a serene blue lake stretched along the valley floor beneath them. The only visible sign of civilization was the snaking line of a hiking trail alongside the wake but for kilometers all around their current position, there was nothing but wilderness. Opting to remain silent until the warp gate closed behind them, Izuku finally let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in a mix of amusement and awe as he stepped closer towards the edge of the meadow and gazed out at the valley beyond.
"Well, Neito, I have to admit- when it comes to venues for a private conversation, you certainly know how to err on the scenic side. Might I ask where exactly we are?"
"Towada-Hachimantai National Park, in Akita Prefecture." Monoma replied, shivering as a gust of mountain wind swept past them. "It's another month or two until peak hiking season begins, so this location should afford us a bit of privacy. I know the area well- my family vacationed here a few times when I was younger. My father has quite the passion for mountaineering, in fact."
Slipping his hands into his pockets, Izuku turned back to face him, wearing the customary playful smirk that Neito had long since grown accustomed to- an expression that presented an affable and easygoing façade while revealing precisely nothing about Midoriya's actual mood and state of mind.
"A sentimental location for you- how lovely. Are you planning to fall down on one knee and propose to me, perhaps?"
"I would appreciate it if you gave me the slightest indication that you're taking this seriously, Izuku." Neito ran a gloved hand down his face in exasperation, straining to keep the bitter frustration out of his voice. "You can use that act to disarm the others all you like, but you should know by now that it won't work on me." He paused for a moment as the wind whipped at their clothes, gazing out over the valley, and weighing his next words carefully. "After all, I'm the one you learned from, aren't I?"
Silence followed, interrupted by nothing but the intermittent whistling of the wind, and Neito felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment once more, his blond brows furrowing. Was that too far? Perhaps I can play it off as-
"You're right."
To Neito's surprise, Izuku simply offered a sheepish grin, shrugging his shoulders as he turned and began to stroll deeper into the meadow.
"There's no need for me to hide it. When I met you, Neito, I was fascinated by the persona you'd so constructed for yourself- the theatricality, the showmanship, your dedication to maintaining character no matter the circumstances. And when we left U.A. to strike out on our own- when the path we were traveling began to reveal itself- I realized that I was in need of a 'character' as well."
"My old self- that frail, weak boy who dreamed of nothing but heroes- he wasn't suitable anymore, not for the life I'd chosen. We were starting to sell weapons on the black market, to make contact with criminals and villains and all the other unsavory personalities of the underworld. I needed to be able to charm them, to win them to our cause, and to convince them to take us seriously, view us as their peers- no easy task for a high school dropout. That type of charisma never came naturally to me before, so like any actor, I began to research the role. And as it happened, you were the ideal material."
He paused and gave an affable shrug, turning his palm upwards in a gesture of mea culpa.
"In my defense, it's not as if I attempted to copy your personality wholesale- there are elements that I borrowed from Himiko and the others as well. But you did inspire me, Neito- that much is the truth."
Another long silence between them followed; Neito found himself torn between shock at the ease of the admission and a sudden surge of pride.
I inspired him. Monoma Neito, condemned to exist as an unremarkable afterthought in the stories of others, laid the foundation for the rise of Seraph, the titan who has brought this society to its knees.
And who besides the two of you will ever know? The voice at the back of his head whispered, and the grin that had spread across Neito's face swiftly faded to a grim line.
"…You honor me, Izuku." The words rang hollower when spoken aloud than they had in his mind.
"And here I thought you wanted to move past the pleasantries." Midoriya let out another quiet chuckle, gazing out over the distant lake with hands clasped behind his back. Regardless, we've meandered down another tangent- let's return to the reason why you've brought me here, yes?"
Neito nodded silently in reply, wrapping the optimal camouflage blanket about his shoulders for warmth as they continued along the ridgeline. The expectant silence that followed lasted several long moments as Chaudron took in a deep breath and composed his reply.
"You mentioned our first meeting- I also remember the day we met in almost perfect clarity. I'd just finished some sparring matches- thrashing most of 1-B with their own quirks, as usual- and I was just about to the showers when a few fans approached me in the locker room. Looking for autographs from the great Phantom Thief, no doubt."
Neito chuckled warmly at the memory, allowing a wave of pleasant nostalgia to wash over him as he continued.
"I was happy to oblige them, especially when I saw Shinso Hitoshi; he was the only one I had any interest in. Despite his enrollment in General Studies, his quirk was of the highest-caliber, and he'd garnered quite a bit of media attention after his showing at the Sports Festival. 'Here's one with some real potential', I remember telling myself. Hatsume, the Support Course darling, barely registered on my radar, by comparison, and Shinso's quirkless classmate- he might as well have been invisible, at first."
Neito turned back to meet Midoriya's gaze and shrugged his shoulders, eyes narrowed in amusement.
"We both know that state of affairs didn't last long. I quickly found my attention diverted from Shinso to you, and the more you talked, the more I found myself… fascinated. Here was someone with a force of will unlike any I'd ever seen- someone dedicated by necessity to studying and adapting to those around him in order to stand a chance in this society, just as I am. Like me, you were aware that fate had consigned you to a background role, but you were determined to usurp the position of protagonist. Your road was so much more arduous than mine had ever been, though- I couldn't help but be awed by your devotion."
"Now who's relying on flattery?" Midoriya interjected with a teasing smirk. "You're certainly laying it on quite heavily, too."
"Not flattery- simply the truth." Neito gave another shrug, his eyes still carefully scrutinizing Izuku's reaction as he spoke. "You had a clarity of vision unlike anything I'd ever seen, and the will and patience to execute that vision, even if it would take years to orchestrate. Suddenly, the life I'd envisioned for myself- a pursuit of fame and recognition above all else- seemed so small and meaningless in comparison. You humbled me, shamed me, and showed me that there was another path- a better path. For that, I owe you a debt of gratitude that I'll never truly be able to repay."
Midoriya nodded in silent understanding, his expression now serious rather than teasing.
"And in the two years since that first conversation," Neito continued, resting a hand on Izuku's shoulder, "you've never given me reason to doubt you. You've always been prepared for each adversary we've faced- in most cases, you were running circles around them before they even knew who we were. We carved through gangs of yakuza and arms traffickers like butter, toppled criminal enterprises that had been standing for decades or centuries in a matter of months. And when the Black Day came, when we revealed ourselves to the heroes, we triumphed over their greatest champions, just as you planned."
"Just as we all planned," Midoriya noted, one brow raised. "The victory wasn't mine alone- none of it would've been possible without the other Founders, and the team we've gathered."
Monoma nodded silently, then withdrew his hand and gazed out over the valley; his expression had hardened, and when he spoke again, he made little effort to keep the frustration and exasperation from his voice.
"But ever since we first encountered this this 'Meta Liberation Army', something has changed in your leadership, and not for the better. Where we usually move to swiftly decapitate and dismantle an enemy force, you have instead made every effort to appease and accommodate them, giving them chance after chance to sit down at the negotiating table, even after they initiated our relationship by alerting the heroes to our presence and abducting our members."
Izuku opened his mouth to reply, but Neito cut him short, unwilling to hear another bout of equivocation until he'd presented his position in full.
"I've made my position clear enough already, I've voiced my objections- loudly, mind you- at every possible opportunity. And yet, against all logic, you insist on continuing on our current course of submission, when it would be an easy matter for us to destroy them."
Raising one hand, Neito began to tick off offenses on his fingers, his tone curt and clipped.
"You insist on honoring the results of negotiations conducted under duress with a double, and when they blatantly violate the terms of that agreement- when they ransack our villa in Yokohama as a 'reprisal' and mutilate Mei in a twisted display that could have very easily killed her, invade our facilities in the dead of night and plant hundreds of bugs in blatant violation of our agreement- your response is to simply smile and walk hand-in-hand towards oblivion?"
Monoma threw up his arms in exasperation, his speech and gestures growing more animated and passionate with each passing moment.
"In just over twelve hours, we're scheduled to hand over almost complete control of our operations to them, to give them the keys to our bases and the right to give orders to our members. And amid all of this, they continually insult your quirklessness- they'll only allow you to remain our leader on the condition that you successfully gain a quirk from All For One in Tartarus, a task I needn't remind you is likely impossible. It's a tall enough order just to kill him, as we've planned since before all this mess- but to attempt to coerce him to do anything on our behalf, through Hitoshi's quirk or otherwise, is sheer madness."
"Surely you realize that, and yet you've given me no indication that you have a backup plan for dealing with the MLA should things go awry. And even if you do the impossible and secure a quirk, they'll always look down on you for the way you were born. Under their control, you'd be throwing away what you've worked so hard to earn these past two years- you'd no longer be the main character, just a footnote in their story! Is that how you want all of this to end?!"
Neito was left red-faced and panting in the thin mountain air, his cheeks flushed red both from the cold and his frustration. Left with a chance to reply, Midoriya turned and gave him a slight frown, his green eyes narrowed.
"Apologies, Neito, but I didn't catch what exactly your question was amid that lovely bit of rhetoric."
"The question is simple." Neito shot back, eyes wide and hands grasping outward in Izuku's direction. "I want the truth, Izuku, not the flowery language you use on the others. What is your real plan for defeating the MLA? Does it even exist, or have you finally bitten off more than you can chew? Why have you insisted on cooperating with them instead of devising a counteroffensive? Why do you continue to tolerate their clear disdain for you?"
Seraph took a thoughtful pause, stroking at his chin with his new mechanical hand as he continued along the ridgeline and motioned for Chaudron to follow.
"You asked a simple question, and I'll give you a simple answer. Because it's the smart choice, Neito." He paused and gazed back in Monoma's direction with his brows knit, a mix of annoyance and confusion on his face, as if he were perplexed that Neito still failed to see the obvious. "By the time we became aware of the MLA's existence, they had been surveilling us for months- years, to some extent- and we had already revealed ourselves to the world and launched into open war with the heroes. From an information standpoint, they've had us at a disadvantage from the very beginning, and that's before we even touch upon the subject of manpower. The MLA has spent almost two centuries gaining converts and building covert infrastructure across Japan- in a contest of numbers and resources, they simply-"
"In a contest of numbers and resources, they would lose, because we have Twice, Pandora, and me!" Neito jabbed a finger back towards himself, raw anger and indignation spilling into his voice. "I could have destroyed their precious tower with those two quirks alone if you'd allowed me! Even now, at the snap of your finger, we could descend upon Deika with an infinite army and an endless barrage of artillery, crush the bulk of their forces in one decisive blow! Their hundreds of thousands of warriors would scatter in the wind without Re-Destro's leadership!"
"And if they're able to successfully capture or kill either of the three of you, as they very nearly did with Pandora and yourself?" Midoriya halted in his tracks, his voice taking on a cold, harsh edge. "If they eliminate Kurogiri? If they locate Etna and destroy Mei's primary workshop and weapons depot? What happens to our offensive then? What happens to the backbone of the Syndicate's operations against the heroes if we have strike teams of MLA fanatics launching constant suicide assaults against our bases, giving away positions of our key facilities?"
"Then as with any wartime government, we relocate to new, more secure ones and ensure that our key personnel are well-hidden and well-guarded." His emotions stabilizing following his brief outburst, Neito forced himself to keep an even, steady tone as he spoke- he knew full-well that Izuku would never take him seriously if he continued to shout and rage. "Even their satellites can't reach everywhere; we find a safe place to hide, then watch the fireworks from afar as they exhaust their soldiers against hordes of doubles. As for the heroes, they can wait a few weeks. While we deal with the MLA, they'll still be fumbling around in the dark and digging their own graves, as they have been for months now- just as you anticipated, I might add. From the Black Day onward, you've been able to predict almost each one of the heroes' actions with nearly perfect accuracy; outmaneuvering these pathetic cultists would be trivial by comparison."
"I'm able to anticipate the heroes' actions because I understand them," Midoriya countered, holding up one hand to halt Monoma's line of argument. "I've spent most of my life in that pursuit. Their key weakness is their adherence to a set of government-dictated regulations and protocols, not to mention their own moral and ethical code. To put it simply, their actions are easy to predict because they're all bound by the limits of a rigid framework- there are lines that they are simply unable to cross, or they'll cease to be heroes, and lose the precious public support their industry relies on. Take our dear mutual friend Kendo Itsuka, for example."
Neito's brows hiked instinctively at the mention of Battle Fist- a flood of memories threatened to burst forth, but he held it at bay as Izuku continued.
"In her role as All Might's publicly designated successor, she is forced to conduct herself only in the same 'honorable' manner as he did, lest she be seen as betraying her dear master's memory. It's a wonderfully effective weapon to wield against her, as we saw at the Commencement, when her moral code forced her to emerge from cover and rush headlong into Mei's crosshairs in an attempt to rescue Uravity and Eraserhead. It wasn't a logically or tactically sound move, of course, but it was what All Might would have done, so I could confidently predict that she'd do the same."
Neito gave a silent nod of understanding, lips pursed in a frown as his thoughts drifted back to his brief standoff with Itsuka at the Public Safety Commission tower, when he arrived to extract Scimitar and the rest of the assault team.
A shame that there was no time to talk. I'd like to think I could get under her skin just as effectively as Izuku- perhaps I could even help turn her, if given the chance.
"Yes, she is rather malleable in that sense," Monoma finally replied, wringing his hands together for warmth amid another gust of wind. "Her desperate need to be seen as the 'protagonist' had already warped her judgement when I knew her back in 1-B, and it's clear that this process has only accelerated over the past two years."
"Indeed it has," Izuku replied with a nod and a soft smirk, "and she remains increasingly vulnerable to our tactics as a result. As the heroes grow more desperate, though, and the prospect of their defeat looms nearer, they will become less and less predictable, because they'll slowly begin to abandon those codes and regulations, feeling that their hand has been forced. This will play perfectly into our plans, of course, because it will drive the final nails into the coffin of their already moribund reputation with the public, but it will also make them exponentially more dangerous in their final months, as they cast off the shackles of morality to defeat us at all costs. Like any wild beast, they will be at their most dangerous in their death throes, which is why the final stages of our war against them will be the riskiest."
Neito gave another nod of acknowledgement, his mouth fixed in a grimace as he thought back to the Founders' discussions on this subject, and the contingencies they'd ultimately chosen to enact.
"Contrast that dynamic to the MLA, though," Izuku continued, his tone and cadence now growing pedagogical, as if he were a professor delivering a lecture. "I have spent only a matter of weeks studying their doctrine, and while their rigid adherence to Destro's principles will surely be their primary weakness, they are bound by no semblance of morals and ethics, as the heroes are. No tactics are off-limits for them, no cost in manpower or collateral damage would be too high to eliminate us. If we expose their existence to the heroes- the natural first act of any offensive against them- it's possibly that we would only be strengthening their offensives against us by bringing the war out in the open rather than forcing them to remain restricted to covert action. And unlike many heroes, they are almost uniformly true believers- willing to die for their cause, and to fight until the last man. You say they would collapse if we killed Re-Destro, but I say he might simply become a martyr, a beacon inspiring their remaining forces to continue the fight."
"Then we make it our primary objective to capture him," Neito declared, brows furrowed. "We force him to surrender and to tell his soldiers to stand down. Use the same tactic the Americans did at the end of the Second World War- broadcast him renouncing his divinity to his entire army, and watch his soldiers lose heart."
"Once more, you're relying on hypotheticals." Seraph shook his head and continued his trek along the ridge- they were nearing an alpine pond now, a pristine reflection of the clouds overhead visible in its crystal-blue water. "It's my job as leader of this organization to plan for all contingencies, Neito- and most of them don't look nearly as optimistic as the scenario you project. Are you truly so overconfident that you don't believe the MLA are doing the same? They've been able to track our positions and whereabouts far better than the heroes ever have, and I can guarantee you that if the war begins to turn against them, they'll leak all the intel they have on us on a continual basis, in the hopes that the heroes or military will be able to finish the job. Japan would be plunged into a three-way conflict- one that would likely become a scorched-earth bloodbath before long. If the MLA are denied their chance to rule the country, they may choose to destroy it instead- neither of us wants that."
"Am I really the only one relying on hypotheticals?" Neito countered with a biting dose of sarcasm, arms crossed. "No matter how you look at things, we have the better hand- the advantage in any conflict belongs to us, and the alternative scenarios aren't any more dire than the worst case we've discussed if a joint international military force were to intervene to support the heroes. There's still something you're not telling me!"
Monoma took a step towards Midoriya, closing the gap between them and narrowly resisting the urge to reach out and seize him by the arm- instead, he settled for leveling an accusing finger towards Izuku's chest.
"You describe the scenario as if we're two great powers in a cold war, relying on the principle of mutually assured destruction to keep us from open conflict. If that's the case, though, why submit to them at all? Why not reject your double's treaty and return them an ultimatum- leave us alone or hostilities will commence. You have the perfect excuse to do just that, now that they've violated their own terms by bugging our facilities last night!"
"Yes, the bugs," Izuku replied with an exasperated sigh, running a hand down his face. "You've made your displeasure regarding that development quite clear. La Brava's security systems didn't detect their presence at any point until they were already planted, and we still haven't found so much as a single residual trace of the infiltrators- all because they have quirks at their command that I'm not aware of, and can't plan for. They've gone so far as to quietly erase many of their followers' quirk data from Deika's public medical records in order to conceal the full extent of their arsenal, removing a key weapon that I'm able to wield against the heroes."
"No quirk exists that can't be countered by the proper technology. You should know that better than anyone, Izuku." They'd reached the pond now, and Neito knelt down at the shore, gazing at his reflection. "We simply need to upgrade our security systems; I'm sure Mei, Momo, and La Brava will relish the challenge."
"Easier said than done," Seraph scoffed, "especially by someone with no technical acumen or experience of his own. You seem to be forgetting we were only aware that Sapporo and Yokohama were compromised- not Nagoya, not Osaka, and not Kyoto. They located those bases without our knowledge, they bypassed our security, and they had us at their mercy." Midoriya reached down and yanked Monoma back to his feet, staring him down with cold fury in his eyes."If they'd decided to plant bombs instead of bugs, then you and I would both have been incinerated in our sleep. Out of the inner circle, only Hatsume would have been left alive, spared by their failure to locate Etna. Do you have the faintest idea how infuriating it is to be faced with that scenario?"
Neito remained silent rather than reply, eyes flitting down towards the rocky shore and cheeks burning with humiliation.
"Contingency plans would have been activated if that had come to pass, of course," Midoriya continued with a deep sigh of frustration, "and Hatsume would still have been able to rain righteous fire on our enemies, but it would have been a defeat all the same. I do not enjoy the prospect of defeat, Neito."
The icy venom dripping from Izuku's last few words sent a chill down Neito's spine and quickened the beat of his heart; thankfully, he could tell that Seraph's anger wasn't directed towards him.
"Nor do I, Izuku." Monoma's eyes narrowed, and he rested his hands on Izuku's arms, both of which were still outstretched, gripping onto Neito's jacket. "In the end, it's their mistake that they didn't pull the trigger- and it's our duty to make them regret that."
"And we will!" Midoriya snapped, releasing his hold on Monoma and turning away with a scowl. "But it will take time. Time to win their trust, time to lower their guard, time to embed ourselves within their ranks and their covert infrastructure. Time for us to learn their protocols and the distribution of their forces, and time for them to expand their reach into the government and dull the weight of the heroes' offensive against us, buying us the reprieve necessary to regroup and replace our losses. And most importantly, it will take humility- the willingness to place our own egos upon the altar and sacrifice them in the short term to secure the future!" Seraph slammed a fist into the open palm of his mechanical hand, then pressed his index finger against Chaudron's chest. "Ask yourself, Neito- are you capable of that?"
"So at last, he admits that there is a plan!" Neito cried in triumph, clapping his hands together with a gleeful cackle before pivoting back towards Izuku with an expression of abject confusion. "Why refuse to tell me?! Why keep me in the dark, clueless as to whether this organization is about to plunge headfirst into its own doom?!"
"Has it ever occurred to you that it may be in the best interest of the Syndicate for you not to know the full extent of my plans?!"
A shocked silence passed between them, broken only by the call of a distant bird; Neito had frozen mid-gesture, eyes wide. He… he can't actually mean that. He's offended and attempting to get a rise out of me- that's all, surely.
"Your anger towards the MLA," Izuku continued reluctantly, pinching at the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut, "your very real, very candid anger- has been instrumental in convincing them that we're genuinely at a loss for how to deal with them. That they have us thoroughly outplayed, and we have no choice but to submit. If I were to tell you now exactly how I plan to deal with them in the long-term, you would-"
"I would what? Lose my authenticity?!" Neito let out a loud scoff, his attempts at controlling his emotions swiftly collapsing as anger and humiliation surged up in his chest. "After two and a half years, you have that little faith in my skills of deception? You don't think I'm capable of fooling them?! I thought you trusted me! I thought I was more than a prop for you to use and discard as you please! Have I not earned that much?!" Each of his words echoed out over the water of the pond, reverberating through the frigid morning air; Neito's chest was heaving, cold sweat rolling down his brow.
Midoriya forced Monoma to wait in silence for his reply, his body language and demeanor perfectly calm and collected by comparison. Turning to gaze out over the pond, he clasped his hands behind his back and narrowed his eyes.
"Well, it goes without saying that we would be all in a very different position had your mission to Deika been successful."
Monoma's mouth fell agape, hands curling into fists.
"T-That mission was under Yaoyorozu's command! You can't possibly-"
"Hiding behind Pandora now, are you? You were the centerpiece of that operation, Neito- or do you claim otherwise?"
"…Perhaps, but I don't see how-"
"And more recently, during the MLA's reprisal attack on Yokohama- you struggled quite considerably with their strike team. Perhaps if you had captured them rather than burning yourself alive with an untested quirk, we'd be able to exert a bit more leverage over our current circumstances."
"You stopped us from pursuing them!" Neito shouted in reply, his body trembling from both his anger and the cold.
"Only after it was clear that further engagement would be counterproductive." Izuku replied with a shrug, casting a sidelong glance in Neito's direction. "You, Dabi, Scimitar and Mustard were already wounded quite severely by that point, and required swift medical attention. If it had been a fight to the death, without Overhaul waiting in the wings to heal your wounds, you likely would have perished. What a sad end to your tale that would've been, hm?"
"N-No! That's not…" Not fair, Neito wanted to say, but he knew perfectly well what an impotent, meritless response that was. Fear and self-loathing were now swelling up inside him alongside his anger, and the voice at the back of his head had begun to whisper once more.
He's right- you know he's right. Compared to the others, you've been nothing but a liability from the beginning, no matter how desperately you try to deny it. You've limped your way this far, riding on the other Founders' coattails, but the game is up- he's finally run out of patience for your failures.
"And need I bring up the engagement with Hawks during Operation Brennus?" Midoriya continued, taking a step towards Monoma with one brow cocked in incredulity. "Your team had him surrounded, and yet you suffered heavy casualties before eliminating him, needlessly drawing out the battle and coming close to total defeat. A rather sloppy tactical display, all things considered, though Pandora and Mr. Compress still managed to salvage your mess in the end."
"Hawks' performance exceeded his anticipated quirk limits by a wide margin," Neito countered, his efforts to regain control of the arguments growing increasingly strained and desperate. "And we couldn't have known that he would-"
"More excuses for your own shortcomings, hmm?" Despite his choice of words, Izuku's voice had grown cold rather than mocking- his eyes were brimming with thinly veiled contempt and disappointment. "You seem to have an endless supply of those."
"No! I'm simply stating the realities of the situation! There were factors that were beyond my control!"
"Perhaps you haven't learned as much these past two years as I thought you did." Izuku turned away again and shook his head, leaving Neito behind as he continued along the shore. "It's disappointing, but I suppose my expectations were too high. If you have no confidence in my leadership, there's not much of a role for you left in this organization, is there?"
Neito's breathing had grown rapid and shallow, his heart beating like a drum and his cheeks flushed bright crimson in shame, fear, and embarrassment- his neatly organized mind had been reduced to a tangle of scattered thoughts and emotions, unable to cobble together a cogent defense of his performance. Over the course of the Syndicate's rise to power, Monoma had been party to countless negotiations between their fledgling organization and the litany of criminal groups that had stood in their path; he'd always taken great pleasure in watching Midoriya verbally dismantle two-bit arms dealers and antiquated yakuza, laying bare their organizations' inadequacies and failings. If they were stupid, they would reach for a weapon and spring a carefully planned trap, usually involving a suppressed bullet from Hatsume or a well-timed command from Shinso; if they were smart, they were now subordinates of the Syndicate. It was because Monoma had witnessed this display so often that he was able recognize it instantly- the tone of voice Izuku was using now was the same one he reserved for the criminals he respected the least.
No, no, no, it can't be over- not like this. Please, not like this. I went too far, I overstepped. What was I thinking?!
"…Wait, please," Neito followed after him, reaching out with one hand, only to stumble on the rocks and fall down to his knees, frigid water lapping at his legs. "I-I have won you so many victories, Izuku. I can still be an asset, I swear! I didn't mean to…" He trailed off, gasping for breath, knuckles curled white against the stony ground for support.
"I know, Neito."
Suddenly, Izuku was standing over him; his voice and expression had softened, cold contempt giving way to genuine regret and tender warmth. Reaching down, he rested his right hand atop Neito's head, his mechanical left hand gently stroking his back.
"I know you've been trying your hardest. I know it's not easy, dealing with so much pressure. It's hard for me too. It takes a toll on you, doesn't it?" Midoriya gave a quiet chuckle followed by a heavy sigh. "Your emotions become unbalanced, your judgement is impaired. You build up fatigue and stress, you end up making mistakes you usually wouldn't. It's alright- I've made them too. We all have, in fact. It wasn't fair for me to single you out like that."
"I'm sorry." For the first time in ages, tears had begun to spill down Neito's cheeks, burning and stinging and blurring his vision as a growing lump in his throat made each word a painful labor. "I'm sorry I'm not strong enough. I'm not as strong you want me to be. I'm not as strong as I want to be either."
"That's not true, Neito." Midoriya shifted his mechanical hand to Monoma's forearm and gently pulled upward, easing him back to his feet. "You have the most potent quirk out of any of us- I've always known that."
They were back at eye level now, but Neito found himself avoiding Izuku's gaze out of instinct, too ashamed of his current state to meet Seraph's eyes. His voice had dropped to just above a whisper, his body language meek and cowed.
"No, I… I have a quirk, but I'm still not as strong as you. I never have been. I never will be."
"Look at me." Izuku grabbed hold of his face and turned his head until their eyes met, then wrapped an arm around Neito's shoulders. "You are. You are, even if you don't realize it. I know I've always been hard on you, now more than ever, but that's only because I can see how much potential you have- and you know that I hate wasted potential, Neito. Do you understand?"
After a moment's silence, green eyes staring into teary grey, Neito gave a shaky nod in reply. A broad smile breaking out across his face, Izuku leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed; slowly and unsteadily at first, Neito returned the embrace, fingers brushing hesitantly along Izuku's back and shoulders before finding purchase.
"I'm glad to hear that, because I have a very important task for you." After a shared moment of silence, Izuku gently pulled away and resumed his course along the shore of the pond, pausing to wait for Neito to follow at his side. "You remember the plans for the assault on Tartarus, yes?"
"I do." Neito nodded more confidently now, his tears dissipating and some of his capacity for rational thought returning.
"I've made some revisions to them. I know we'd planned to kill All For One by flooding his cell once Hitoshi has done his part, but last night, I changed my mind." He paused and turned on a dime, aiming a finger towards Monoma's chest. "I want you to be the one to kill him, Neito."
"W-What?" Neito blinked in confusion, shaking his head. "But… that's absurd. What purpose would that serve? And how would I…?"
"If all goes well, by that point in the operation, you'll have a copy of Lady Nagant's quirk- Mustard's or Dabi's or half a dozen others would serve just as well, though. With Hierophant's assistance in accessing the internal security feeds, we'll be able to broadcast your execution of history's greatest archvillain to the entire world."
Seraph clapped his hands together and spread them apart in a 'ta-da' gesture, his eyes aglow with a familiar, gleeful anticipation that sent a shiver coursing through Chaudron's body.
"And in that moment, your name will go down in history- forever revered among the ranks of this nation's greatest saviors." Midoriya reached out and cupped one hand against Monoma's cheek, his excitement shifting to concern. "But before any of that can happen, I need you to trust me, Neito- just as I trust you. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes. I-I can." Neito gave another eager nod, relief crashing over his body like a wave. His heartbeat was steadying again, his fear and panic receding, though some of the self-doubt still lingered, not so easy to dispel. "I can do that."
"Good." Izuku's thumb brushed along Neito's cheek, an earnest smile spreading across his face. "I'm so proud of you."
Keiyo Industrial Zone, Chiba Prefecture
Etna Workshop and Testing Facility
Three Months Before the Black Day
"There- that's the final component. It's…" Momo paused to swallow, but the lump of dread in her throat refused to vanish; in her chest, her heart had begun to quicken. "It's done, for better or for worse."
Yaoyorozu turned to the side and exchanged a glance with Hatsume, then took a step back from the worktable, her eyes flitting up towards Seraph and the others, watching the two of them work from behind a thick screen of safety glass. Under the current circumstances, it was an almost laughable sight – though the sealed, airtight walls of the Etna facility's designated hazardous materials laboratory served their function well when Momo and Mei were crafting new toxins and explosives, they would provide approximately as much protection as a sheet of wet tissue paper if an accident occurred with her current creation. Midoriya seemed to come to the same conclusion moments later, advancing towards the lab's entrance with a slight grin on his face. Typing in the entry code with one hand, he waited patiently as the door slid open, then turned and gestured for the others to follow him inside.
"Come along, then- if there were any danger, we would've certainly known it by now. Let's inspect the fruit of their labor, shall we?"
Nodding in wordless agreement, Shinso and Monoma stepped forward from the shadows to join him, passing beneath the bright glow of the ceiling lights as they approached the lab's entrance. This particular workstation was located in Etna's basement, concealed from outside view with no windows in sight; though her watch told her that it was mid-afternoon, the entire floor was pitch black aside from the immediate area around the hazard lab, an island of light in a sea of darkness. Though a portable heater provided by Hatsume kept the lab itself at a comfortable temperature, a biting chill swept in through the open door as Midoriya and the others entered; newly fallen snow was currently piling up outside the facility, and the frigid January air seeped in through the warehouse's walls at every opportunity. All three were dressed in winter coats, but Midoriya was quick to shrug his off as he entered, hanging it on a wall-mounted rack beside the door before turning back to face the workbench and clasping his gloved hands together in anticipation.
"It's quite strange to finally see it completed," Izuku began, his brows furrowed in a mix of fascination and bemusement as he made his way across the length of the lab, his pace slow and deliberate. "I always thought it would be bigger- more imposing, somehow. Did you imagine the same, Yaoyorozu?"
"I… a-at first, perhaps. But as I became acquainted with the specifics of the… device, it became clear that its true size was in fact quite modest- before it's housed in the delivery mechanism, at least." Pulling her safety goggles up over her forehead, Momo gestured up toward the dozens of diagrams and schematics that covered one of the lab's glass walls, neatly arranged for easy reference. Despite her absolute confidence in her work, however, Momo found that she was suddenly struggling to speak without stammering, and a sheen of sweat had formed on her brow; her stomach was twisting in knots. She'd understood from the start the gravity of this project, but there was a vast ocean of difference between pondering the abstract morality of the situation in the planning phase and seeing the final result firsthand. "We, ah… we could have made it even smaller, in fact, but we determined that these were the easiest measurements to work with."
"Hmm."
Standing alongside her now, Midoriya had grown silent, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed down at the device in question. Tentatively at first, he reached out and laid his hands against it- it was just over a meter in length, a tapered metal cylinder that ended in a rounded tip, seamless joints barely visible. Though she knew there was no risk from mere physical contact, Yaoyorozu still felt her breath catch in her throat as Midoriya's fingers brushed along the casing; when he spoke up again a moment later, his tone calm and contemplative, she flinched in surprise.
"You know, I've always disliked the myth of Prometheus."
Still smiling softly, Izuku glanced upward to meet Momo's eyes, and she found herself frozen in place, unable to tear her gaze away.
"It's written that he stole fire from the gods and gifted it to mankind," Midoriya continued, glancing to each of the other Founders in turn, "but the more you ponder it, isn't that notion quite insulting to our ancestors' intelligence? Fire occurs naturally and in abundance almost everywhere on earth- lightning strikes, forest fires, volcanic eruptions; this world was born in fire, and eventually, it will end in fire as well. Humanity required no 'divine intervention' to discover it- its power to create and destroy is self-evident, and harnessing it requires no more effort than picking up a burning log. Fifty-thousand years before the Greeks ever wrote of Prometheus, Cro-Magnons and Neanderthals were already using it to warm themselves in their caves. Personally, I find no hint of otherworldly power or inspiration in the wielding of an ordinary flame."
Midoriya let out a quiet chuckle; his mouth was curled up in an amused smirk, but as he turned back to face the device, his expression rapidly shifted to one of pure awe and fascination.
"But this… this is a fire worthy of the gods. This represents creation in its purest form, the energy that fuels the universe. And no savior gifted it to us- humanity discovered it for ourselves, without computers or algorithms or quirks. We took the power of the sun and replicated it here on earth- we bent physics to our will. I don't put stock in any higher power, but in my view, this is the essence of divinity itself- the single greatest triumph of the human mind in recorded history."
Midoriya let out a quiet, wistful sigh, then turned to Yaoyorozu once more, green eyes alight with curiosity.
"This is an approximation of a Teller-Ulam configuration, yes? Tell me- which material did you use for the core?"
"P-Plutonium-239," Momo replied, struggling to purge the anxiety from her voice and body language as she gestured down at a holding rack containing a series of small metal spheres, dull grey in color. One was missing from its niche, inserted into the device lying before them. "The critical mass is considerably smaller than uranium-235, and with my quirk, I'm able to produce the plutonium at 100% purity, with no plutonium-240 contaminants."
"That's quite impressive," Monoma declared from behind them, his blond brows hiked in surprise. "Weapons-grade is usually 93 to 97- I doubt any nation in the world can claim to have cracked 100."
"No, they can't." Yaoyorozu glanced down again at the spheres of plutonium, frowning, then shook her head and launched back into the specifications. "The, ah… the secondary consists of a uranium-238 tamper and a plutonium-239 sparkplug. There's also a supply of lithium-6 to generate the tritium and deuterium, and a layer of an aerogel substance that I custom-designed, which will be converted into plasma when the… the firing sequence begins."
Total silence dominated the room for several long moments; the air was charged with a palpable sensation of apprehension and unease. To Yaoyorozu's right, Hatsume was fidgeting anxiously with her welding torch, shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to another, and to her left, even Shinso's usual stoic expression seemed disquieted, his blue brows furrowed and mouth turned down in a subtle grimace.
"…It was a hell of a pain making sure all those components were aligned and fitted together properly," Hatsume finally chimed in, breaking the tension as she pulled off her heavy welding goggles and tossed them down into the workbench along with the torch. Her usual breathless enthusiasm for her work was somewhat subdued, though; Mei was still smiling, but her demeanor lacked the customary gushing excitement that she displayed whenever one of her babies was completed.
"My job wasn't that hard compared to Momo's, though- she's the one who had to memorize all the molecular specifications and sciency shit- but you definitely don't want any engineering mistakes with a project like this."
"Which is why I opted to assemble the final product in stages," Momo added, gesturing appreciatively towards her partner, "with Hatsume overseeing the integration of the individual components, rather than attempt to create the entire thing at once with my quirk. There are too simply many delicate components and internal points of failure to risk producing the mechanism without independently verifying each element's stability and structural integrity."
Yaoyorozu laid a hand on Hatsume's shoulder before thinking better and withdrawing it a moment later; Hatsume's welding jacket was as much of a grease and soot-ridden mess as ever, more blackish grey now than its original reddish brown, but it was anyone's guess how much of the dirt and grime had actually originated from this particular project, and Momo privately doubted whether the jacket had been properly washed at any point in the last two years. Her own white lab coat, on the other hand, had accumulated a few small grease and chemical stains over the twenty-odd hours of work it had taken to perfect the device, along with a few singe marks from stray welding sparks, but it was practically pristine by comparison. It had been an arduous process, easily among her most complex and delicate creations, but hygiene aside, Mei's presence had helped keep her sane through the worst of it.
"And we're sure it will work?" Monoma asked, leaning forward to peer down at the device with one gloved hand perched on his chin. "Not that I don't trust your craftsmanship, my dear, but I don't suppose there's any way to…"
"Test it?" Midoriya cut in before Yaoyorozu could reply, chuckling in amusement. "No, Neito- not unless you wish to alert the entire world to its existence."
"We could conduct a test underground," Momo offered, her brows knit in contemplation, "but it would require digging several kilometers' worth of tunnels and producing a massive amount of supporting equipment. Even then, there's still a sizable chance it could be detected and identified by seismologists."
"I don't see anyone here volunteering to pick up a shovel," Izuku countered, still grinning. "No, I think I'll choose to trust you- the both of you- and the quality of your work." Midoriya reached out and squeezed Yaoyorozu and Hatsume's shoulders reassuringly, his expression warm and affectionate, and Momo felt a hint of color creep across her cheeks.
"Thank you, Midoriya. That means a great deal."
"Of course. Now remind me, Yaoyorozu- what's the final yield you were able to achieve?"
Momo blinked in surprise, any flush vanishing from her face; the knots in her stomach swiftly returned as she mustered a reply.
"…Approximately 500 kilotons. But that…" Pausing midsentence, she forced a nervous smile onto her face. "That won't ever be relevant, will it?"
Midoriya said nothing in reply, simply staring back at her with a faint grin on his lips. The deafening silence had returned, even more oppressive than before.
"You told me it would only serve as a deterrent!" Momo finally managed, her voice steadily rising in indignant fury. "That's what you said when you commissioned this project! Are you reneging on that claim?!" She glanced from side to side, looking to the other to gauge their reactions, but none of their expressions offered anything in the way of support- merely quiet acceptance. "Y-You don't intend to use it in the operation against Hawks and All Might, do you?! Because I doubt you need me to tell you what a disastrous tactical blunder that would be!"
"No, no, nothing of the sort." Midoriya waved his hand in dismissal, his expression almost offended. "It would hardly be a useful asset for any of the components of Operation Brennus."
"Then swear to me, Midoriya." Straightening her posture so that her eye level crested even his own, Yaoyorozu stared across at him, her eyes wide and her gloved hands curling into fists. "I need you to swear to me here and now that we will never use it offensively. If you can't do that, then I'll destroy it."
"Careful with your phrasing," Midoriya chuckled, raising his hands partway into the air with his gloved palms facing her. "That kind of statement could have rather unfortunate results, if you're not careful."
"This isn't a joke, Midoriya!"
Momo slammed her clenched fist down against the workbench, and the resulting bang echoed through the basement, made all the more eerie by the total darkness that surrounded the lab.
"I… I'm no stranger to violence and death." She managed a moment later, cheeks flushed red. We've all done horrible things for the sake of our mission, killed and maimed and tortured to give this nation a brighter future- I'm no exception. But this…" Momo reached out a hand and pointed an accusing finger at the device- at the result of her painstaking hours of research and labor. "This isn't a tool for economic reform or societal change, it's an instrument of mass slaughter. And if you plan to use it as a weapon of war or a… a means of revenge, then as its creator, I would be responsible for every life takes. Do you understand that?!"
"…I must also object to the deployment of this weapon in an offensive capacity," Shinso declared, his gloved hands clasped together behind the back of his dark winter coat. "With all due respect, Izuku, it's my belief that using it would run the risk of compromising our overall mission. Even after we reveal ourselves during Operation Brennus, it will remain in our best interest to keep from drawing the attention of the world's militaries- this would all but ensure their immediate intervention, and undermine our efforts to win the public's trust."
Midoriya glanced between them, brows hiked in apparent curiosity, and after another few agonizing moments of silence, he gave a slow nod of agreement.
"Of course- you're both quite correct." As he spoke, Izuku's grin vanished, along with any prior trace of amusement- his expression was deadly serious now, his eyes cold and piercing. "Hitoshi, Momo- allow me to be perfectly clear." He laid his hand over his heart and locked eyes with each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Yaoyorozu. "I swear to you here and now that I have no intent of using this weapon to attack the people of Japan, or any other nation, for that matter."
Momo gave a slow, hesitant nod of acknowledgement, and opened her mouth to thank him, only to be cut short as Izuku held up one finger.
"What I do intend to use it for, however, is a means of deterrence and defense, exactly as I told you when we began this project, Yaoyorozu- defense both of this organization and of the new society we intend to build. In the grand scheme of things, you all know perfectly well that the odds are stacked against us by an astronomical margin. We intend to tear down an entire nation and build a new one practically from scratch, and I have no doubt that the current system will thrash quite ferociously to preserve itself as its demise approaches. When we consider their potential responses to our revolution, there is almost nothing outside the realm of possibility, and we would all do well to remember that."
"You're correct, by all my predictions." Momo perched a hand on her chin, frowning. "In their desperation to stop us, it's likely- if not practically guaranteed- that they'll resort to brutal and oppressive measures. But as we defend ourselves against them, we mustn't stoop to their level in the process- if we do, we'll appear no better to the people of Japan than the government we're striving to replace!"
Rather than respond straight away, Midoriya turned and leaned back against the edge of the workbench so that he was facing all of the other Founders, his brows furrowed in contemplation.
"Allow me to present you all with a rather optimistic picture of our organization's future. Two years from now, let's say that we're well on schedule for our timeline- we've seized control of most of the levers of organized governance, deposed the current regime, and broken most organized opposition from the heroes. The military is in disarray, overwhelmed by endless hordes of Twice's doubles and demoralized by the fall of Tokyo and Kyoto, and we've gained a loyal following from among the people- not yet a majority of the public, but a minority of sufficient size and dedication to flood any major city in Japan with mass demonstrations, should we give them the order. In this scenario, the remnants of the government and military are left with increasingly limited options if they wish to claw back their former influence, and as their prospects dim, their desperation will only increase. Like any animal, they will be at their most dangerous when cornered."
Momo felt her eyes flit down to the floor, her lips pursing in a frown. Izuku was right, of course. He was almost always right. That was what she loved about him most, but she hated it sometimes as well.
"Perhaps they begin to impose mass arrests and executions of our followers in their remaining strongholds," Izuku continued, gesturing to each of them in turn as he spoke to ensure that he was holding their attention. "Perhaps they pass a new 'law' declaring that association with the Syndicate is punishable by death. Perhaps they turn their remaining arsenal of cruise missiles against the facilities we've seized from them in a scorched-earth bombardment campaign. Perhaps they turn to the UN and beg their allies to intervene and restore them to power- imagine fleets of American, Indian, and Korean warships and nuclear submarines bearing down on us from three sides as their bombers blacken the sky. Or perhaps it will be China and Russia, leaping at the opportunity to conquer a weakened Japan and divide the spoils amongst themselves."
He paused to gauge their reactions; none of them could dispute anything he'd said. Economics had grown to be Momo's strong suit as opposed to geopolitics, but she still knew with certainty that all of the possibilities he mentioned could easily come to pass- even recent history was littered with examples of nations weakened from within being conquered or occupied from without.
"One must consider, after all, that should we claim a victory over Japan's government, the rest of the world will hardly welcome us with open arms- they'll fear and resent us, and everything we represent." Izuku had resumed pacing back and forth along the room, his tone animated and full of passion. "It will be no different than the West's fear of communism during the Cold War; in their view, if they allow a societal revolution to succeed here, to reshape one of the world's wealthiest and most powerful nations, they run the risk of a domino effect- of copycat movements taking root on their own soil."
"Now, tell me." Midoriya clapped his hands together, a hint of his smile returning. "In each of these scenarios, what is the one, certain way to deter our enemies from their course of action? The only proven method in all of human history for dissuading great powers from conflict, even when all other factors demanded a military confrontation?"
Silence followed. There was no need for Midoriya to spell out the answer; they all understood.
"Good- we're all in agreement, then." A wide grin returned to Izuku's face, and he gestured back to the device. "Now, with that in mind, you may still be wondering why it would ever be necessary for us to deploy this weapon. After all, hasn't the mere knowledge of their existence been enough to prevent another world war for centuries?" He shrugged his shoulders, his brows hiked in amusement. "Even in our most optimistic projections, do any of you really think the nations of the world would take us at our word if we made a public declaration announcing our ownership of such a device? That they would be so naïve as to accept our assurances?"
"W-What reason would they have to doubt us?" Yaoyorozu countered with a huff of exasperation. "My quirk is a matter of public record- with that information in mind, they'll all know that this is well within my capabilities."
"Seeing is believing, Momo." Izuku closed his eyes and shook his head in silent amusement, like a teacher struggling to impart a lesson on a stubborn student, then reached out and laid a hand on her arm. "It doesn't bring me any pleasure, but we must all confront the inevitable reality: In the long term, if we have any hope of preserving our revolution for future generations, then we must demonstrate our possession of this technology. It may not be for another year, or two, or five, but make no mistake, the day will come when we have no other choice but to detonate this weapon on the world stage. Not to wage war, but to guarantee peace."
"But…" Her brows furrowed in frustration, searching desperately for an alternative solution. "Surely there's another…"
"I know it must be hard- I know you don't want to see this technology used for any purpose. But as unpleasant as it is, can you accept that necessity? A bloodless demonstration of our capabilities, for the greater good?"
With a heavy sigh and a swell of fear and anxiety, Yaoyorozu slowly nodded.
"…Yes, I suppose I can."
"Thank you." Izuku squeezed affectionately at her arm, his face beaming with pride. "You've done so well, Momo."
Midoriya turned and started back towards the others, only to pause mid-step and glance back in her direction.
"To be entirely candid, though, one nuclear warhead isn't much of a deterrent. Now that you've perfected the design, I hope you'll understand the necessity of manufacturing a few dozen more."