AN: April Fools? Kinda? Even I didn't expect this chapter so I guess this counts as a joke, right?

In all seriousness, I've always done 99% of my writing when I wasn't at home, usually at coffee shops and stuff. So when all that shit closed, I just kinda lost motivation to write at all. It's as simple as that.

Things to note:

1. I post Art weekly on twitter under the handle: biitii_Art and am super active over there, go follow me even if it's just to bug me for a new chapter. (Lots of MHA girls, and It's mostly lewd stuff so careful)

2. Apparently, I actually guessed Bakugo's canon hero name before it was even revealed in the manga, so you may now address me as prophet.

3. This chapter is for all the people who messaged me/reviewed with kind words despite the long hiatus. it's rough, probably has hella typos, and probably reads awkwardly in some places, but it's something, hope you can forgive me.

4. This is not a guarantee of future chapters, but a way of saying 'I am still here'...

5. Maybe reread the previous chapter? Idk that one's up to you...

Chapter 20

'There's no way that was five minutes'

oooOo Tenko oOooo

The room was dim, the only source of light in the cramped space a row of monitors sitting side by side upon a cluttered desk. The luminescent displays cast an eerie blue glow upon the single occupant of the room, yet his face remained shrouded by the deep hood of his sweatshirt.

Pale lips, cracked from repeated abuse, were quickly pinched between the man's canines. He snarled at the monitors, as if they'd caused him some great personal grievance, his index finger snaking under his jaw to dig audibly into his skin.

"Damn UA brats…" he hissed, eyes trained insistently on one of the monitors. "What kind of cheat codes are they handing out at that school?"

It was a livestream that had spurred the man's wrath. One that was being broadcasted and viewed by millions all over the country, and even more by international spectators. Seeing those damn brats frolic around like they hadn't single-handedly stole his win away, was enough to set his skin alight with ire.

He'd been that close to taking down the Symbol of Peace himself! He'd been disabled and at his mercy, and then they had shown up…

The gruesome burn scars along his left arm twinged painfully, a grim reminder of his failure. That damn girl.

The incessant scratching grew more frantic…

That blonde bitch whose photos had been splashed all over the message boards covering the sports festival… It was her fault that he'd lost! She'd taken his victory away from him!

But, Tomura had taken something of theirs in return…

A seedy grin snaked across his lips, his index finger freezing in place. His pale blue eyes trailed over to the closest of several identical glass cases. It was about a cubic foot in size and contained a pale, severed human hand, meticulously preserved courtesy of Sensei's personal surgeon.

The hand of that infuriatingly heroic student that they all seemed to follow so fanatically… The one that had nearly taken on the Nomu designed to restrain All Might!

He'd hoped to end that particular brats career before it could even start, but apparently, the boy had recovered with some kind of bloody zenkai boost or something…

-A violet portal suddenly flared into existence at eye level, but it was a disturbance that Shigaraki had long-since gotten used to. A covert method of communication was one of Kurogiri's many talents, one that was readily abused by the league whenever possible.

The bartender's voice echoed throughout his room, "Ready yourself, Shigaraki Tomura… I've found him…"

"Oh, joy…" Shigaraki sighed, rising to his feet. "I'm sure we'll get along swimmingly…"

"His cooperation would greatly bolster the league's firepower, Tomura-kun, not to mention the reputation his infamy could bring... Be sure to consider all options…"

"Don't patronize me, Kurogiri!" Shigaraki barked, swiping his hand through the swirling portal, causing it to dissipate into nothingness. He shrugged on the longer cloak that served as the base of his villain uniform, moving towards the first of many glass cases.

The first pale hand was clamped with surgical precision over his left shoulder, the next on the opposite side, gnarled, arthritic tendons creaking as he forced them into place. The process continued until every glass container had been emptied, his father's was the very last as usual, shrouding Tomura's gaze from the rest of the world.

He glanced ponderously to the newest addition to his collection, quite a bit less pale than the others and appropriately clamped like a vice over the burn scars of his upper left arm.

"I want you to keep them close to you…" Sensei always insisted… "So that those feelings never leave you…"

Tomura would be certain to never forget the sting of his first failure. This particular lifeless hand would serve not as a reminder of a previous kill, but the promise of correcting an unfinished job…

oooOo Izuku oOooo

"…she's gonna' be alright, right?"

The sound of her voice was more familiar to Izuku than most, it's unique tone and often vulgar content like a salve to his soul. His eyes flicked open, blinking repeatedly as they were exposed to the brightness of the overhead light. He quickly took stock of his various extremities, noting that despite waking up lying horizontal in what looked like a medical wing, he was otherwise in perfect health.

Izuku sat up, immediately taking in the scene unfolding before him.

"You crowding her certainly isn't helping, brat. Stand over there and let me do my job…" Recovery girl's sass was certainly a sight to behold.

"The fuck did ya' say, you old hag?!" Katsumi shot back, quick to ignite as usual.

"Sit down and be quiet. They don't pay me enough for this shit."

Izuku barely caught the hushed comments, but was much more concerned with why Uraraka was being rolled in on a stretcher by a pair of the school's automated response droids!

The brunette girl appeared to be unconscious, dressed in only the UA gym bottoms and a black undershirt. Her uniform jacket was nowhere to be seen, but the articles of clothing that did remain, were torn in some places, and completely singed away in others

Uraraka's injuries appeared to reflect the damage to her uniform. Izuku's eyes picked out nicks and quickly developing bruises along her forearms, with a few areas of exposed skin blistering to an angry red.

Izuku knew those injuries. He'd experienced them enough times himself, after all. So it took no time at all for him to connect the dots.

He swung his legs over the edge of his temporary cot settling his bare feet to the rough carpet of the room. His actions went unnoticed by either of the room's other conscious occupants, not that he really blamed them. Recovery Girl had begun her examination, while Katsumi had found herself caught somewhere between following the nurse's orders, and taking action herself. Instead, she hovered uncertainly just out of the pro hero's sphere of focus.

"So I guess you had no trouble with holding back? Eh, Kacchan?"

Recovery girl barely spared him a glance once she'd deemed him a low priority patient, quickly turning back to Uraraka, but Katsumi froze for half a second before rushing to his side.

"I—you… fuck!"

Then her lips were on his, her tongue plunging into his own with a wanting, desperate kind of aggression.

But then she pulled away, a fist slamming into his chest in the next second.

"Fucking, shit!" she cursed, the second and third jabs punctuating each word.

Izuku caught the fourth in his palm—the power behind the blows were halfhearted at best—spun her around and tucked Katsumi's smaller frame against his own. She stilled, giving no indication of her thoughts on the action, but made no move to extricate herself from his grasp.

They stayed like that for a short while, the sounds of Recovery girl rifling through her cabinets the only indication of time passing. His mind was buzzing with questions… How exactly had Uraraka had gotten so injured in her match with Katsumi? Well, he could imagine what had happened… But the fact that the match had even taken place meant that he'd completely missed the battle between Todoroki and Yaoyorozu…

But more importantly, how had he even ended up in the infirmary in the first place? He recalled bits and pieces of his previous match against Tetsutetsu… If he was remembering correctly, it was going pretty heavily in his favor, Izuku's opponent was strong, determined and could take a hit like a champ. But he was outmatched in terms of technique…and that was when Izuku had decided to—.

He must have stiffened as the memory came rushing back since Katsumi finally nudged her way out of his grip.

"What happened out there." She demanded with a scowl, though she still maintained minimal contact with the tips of his fingers.

Izuku paused in consideration. "I'm not exactly sure…" he mused.

Katsumi remained silent, cocking an eyebrow and clearly expecting him to elaborate further. She knew he couldn't resist theorycrafting quirks after all…

He shot a quick glance to Uraraka's bedside, and seeing the girl was still unaware of her surroundings, proceeded with his thought process. "It was exhilarating," Izuku said simply, a hint of reverence creeping into his tone. "One for All… it felt like… energy. Energy in its simplest and purest form… If that makes any sense." Izuku frowned, knowing his description fell far short of the real thing.

"Indeed, Midoriya-shonen!" All Might—currently Yagi-san—enthused, coughing lightly as he strolled through the infirmary doors. "Not exactly the way I'd put it, but accurate enough Indeed! Quite a show you put on there!"

"All…Might…"

A rumbling growl cut through whatever the hero had planned to say next, and Izuku's mismatched hands barely managed to slip under Katsumi's arms in time to stop her from launching herself at the man.

"That motherfucker knew this shit would happen!" she cried, squirming in his grasp.

"Kacchan, it's o—"

"The fuck it is! Deku, let me go so I can fuck him u—"

"Kacchan, relax!"

"I am relaxed!"

The angry popping from her palms said otherwise…

"It isn't All Might's fault, and you know that." Izuku stared into her eyes, willing her to accept the fact that no one person was to blame.

He sighed as she deflated in his arms. "Whatever," she pouted.

"I…I can understand why you're angry, Bakugo-chan, while the force of One for All is certainly immense, I did not expect this sort of reaction. After all, Midoriya-shonen's current physical power is a league above my own when I first started school. I assumed he could handle it." All Might shrugged helplessly.

"Then what the fuck was that shit out there!," Katsumi cut in hotly. "You're the one who told us your quirk shows up differently in each holder! Why was the first time we tested this shit on National television!?"

All Might blanched at each dagger of truth that was thrown at him, but Izuku paid him no mind, already nodding along with his girlfriend's logic. "I've never passed out from the fatigue of manipulating quicksteel, but I imagine something of the sort could happen under certain conditions... If One for All acts and an energy source, boosting the strongest parts that already exist in the body, then it would be logical to assume that a magnified version of my quirk would have equally severe drawbacks… at least until I get a better handle on it…"

His hand subconsciously reached out to his bedside table where he'd spied his notebook earlier, and began putting his thoughts on paper.

"Then what, you're telling me you can move other shit with your mind now too, Deku?" she began pacing, occasionally shooting heated glares at All Might out of the corner of her eyes.

Izuku shook his head. "I don't think that's it at all… I have a theory, but without a more controlled testing environment I can't know for sure…"

"I suppose that is for the best, Midoriya-shonen!" All Might said brightly. "I chose today to pass on my legacy in order to give you the best chance of making a splash in front of millions, but I dare say you've done that already without my quirk. You both have!" he added, briefly buffing up and spreading his arms joyfully.

Katsumi scowled by his side, but Izuku grinned knowingly. She'd take the undisputed number 1 hero's words to heart, even if she didn't show it outwardly.

"Use however many quirks you need, nerd! It won't make any difference after I kick four-eyes' ass and put you down in the finals!" Her eyes narrowed fiercely.

Izuku was about to answer when All Might subtly cleared his throat. "Ahem… actually, about that…"

oooOoOoOooo

"He forfeited!?" The fuck is that about?!"

Izuku was inclined to agree…

He and Kacchan made their way through the hallways of the stadium towards where the rest of their class waited to spectate the next matches, but he barely paid the route any mind.

Iida had forfeited his match? And before he'd even set foot in the arena too! Short of encouraging rule-breaking, Izuku couldn't imagine a more out of character act from his studious friend. So there had to be a reason… Something monumental enough to justify abandoning a quarterfinal match before it had even begun…

The implications turned his stomach.

But until Izuku could find his friend and get the truth from the source, there was no reason to worry himself with baseless speculation. Besides, that wasn't the reason he and Kacchan were rushing through the halls…

"Hurry the fuck up, Nerd! I'll kill you myself if you get knocked out for being late!"

And that was a thing…

The brief amount of time he'd spent recovering from his fight with Tetsutetsu had been a bit deceiving, but apparently his quarterfinal match was in less than five minutes…

"I was barely out for an hour, what the hell did I miss?!" Izuku shot Kacchan's way.

They rounded a corner at a sprint, dodging around a pair of fans that yelped, nearly tossing a tray of Takoyaki into the air. Izuku steadied the girl with his quirk and apologetic grin before flicking back to Katsumi's side with a burst of speed.

"Icy-hot blasted half the stadium with ice again to take out Ponytail before she even knew what the fuck'd happened… Dude looked even angstier than usual too…" Katsumi added with a scoff, but Izuku could see the truth in her gaze.

"And Uraraka?"

Kacchan's lips twisted slightly, "Ochako fought well, but I was stronger."

Izuku nodded slightly. He knew that that was all the girl would say in the matter, and really, that was all that needed to be said. Kacchan would never go easy on an opponent, but that didn't mean she enjoyed crushing her friend's dreams. Izuku had hope that Uraraka would understand that and embrace the loss… But it was out of his hands.

What wasn't, however, was what he was going to do about his next opponent.

He and Katsumi skidded through the door that led to class 1-A's viewing section, earning the attention of the assembled

"Hey guys… what'd I miss?" He was going for nonchalant, but judging from the stares he was getting, he hadn't quite succeeded.

"Uh… kinda a lot, dude," Kyoka sassed, breaking the tension.

"Midoriya! My man! We were totally worried!" Kirishima was quick to greet them which spurred the rest of the class to follow suit. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on who you asked—he wasn't given time to speak to the rest of his class before Present Mic's distinctive commentary boomed over the loudspeakers.

"Thanks for waiting, all my party people! And fear not, your wait was not in vain! YEAHHH!" The crowd roared in response.

"It's the match you've all been waiting for! Winning his previous matchup in an icy instant! Todorokiiii Shooootoooo!"

Izuku's classmate was already on the ground level, making his way to center stage. He ignored the cheers and whistles of the crowd as if they meant absolutely nothing to him, coming to a stop on his side of the arena.

"There's no way that was five minutes..." Izuku mused lightly. "It feels like I just finished fighting Tetsutetsu…"

"Eh, I'm sure you'll figure it out, Nerd…" Katsumi nudged him lightly as Mic started his own introduction.

"And in the green corner, with a nearly a flawless run so far in this tournament, and a showing of prodigal strength and finesse, Midooooriyaaa IIIIzukuuuu!"

He responded to the call, a platform of quicksteel taking him several stories down to the arena floor. Izuku took a second to shake the stiffness out of his extremities, having been resting until just a few minutes prior. But there was no noticeable damage from the previous fight, Recovery girl had certainly lived up to her name.

Now the only issue was overcoming the admittedly formidable force that was Todoroki Shoto.

Izuku stared across the distance between them, ignoring Present mic's voice in the background as he continued to hype up the semifinal round for the crowd. They were certainly eating it up, but he had more important matters to deal with.

It wasn't as if he and Shoto were on bad terms per say, but he hadn't exactly made the same connection as he had with his other peers. As a consequence, any information he had on the teen's fighting style and quirk was from personal observation rather than anything he'd divulged himself. Izuku could quite possibly have seen the upper limits of Todoroki's cryokinesis during the cavalry battle, or his match against Komori, but making assumptions like that never helped anyone survive in this irrational world of quirks…

No, he would assume that Shoto still had many more tricks up that right sleeve of his.

As for his left… Well that was another matter entirely. Todoroki's hellflame was a natural counter to the reinforcing and power-boosting aspect of his quicksteel, and would tear through his stamina in the blink of an eye.

It was something to be avoided altogether.

The thought of having to combat both abilities simultaneously had his heart pounding in his chest. An, excited, anxious tension that could be felt in every breath.

It wasn't a bad feeling.

Izuku's eyes took in his opponent's stiff stance, studying his posture as if it would give some sort of tell to his future actions. And Todoroki… wasn't even looking at him…

No… His head was turned away slightly, his gaze fixed on a point to Izuku's right, somewhere in the stands. A glance confirmed Izuku's suspicions. Endeavour stood stoically, arms crossed as his signature orange flames flickered around his torso. He gazed down at the ring through narrowed eyes, appearing both above it all, and intensely focused.

Oh well…

Izuku had been quite clear what he thought of Shoto's familial situation. If Shoto's grudge was really so important to him that he would willingly handicap himself, then Izuku would make sure he'd understand what exactly he was giving up…

"Are both competitors ready for battle?" Midnight called from her position on the raised referee's platform.

Izuku dipped his head lightly, a motion that was matched by Todoroki opposite him, scowl staying fixed to his face.

"Begin!"

The sound of Todoroki's quirk activating was quite unique, like the sound of a hundred chains rattling together. But he had no time to think further on the matter...

Izuku skipped to his right as spires of ice rushed across the distance between them, ducking the lance of ice that immediately branched out from the wall left in its wake. The attack was precise, but not unexpected.

Izuku exhaled, his breath ghosting in the frosty air, the shiny surface of his quicksteel fogging up as it floated by his side.

He blinked slowly, peering through lidded eyes, as Todoroki stamped his right foot. Another wave of ice sprouted from the point of contact, covering a far wider area than the first.

Izuku grinned lightly, heart pumping as he finally did battle against an opponent that could rival some of the more dangerous foes he had taken on. All this was well within expectations, so it was time to see how well Todoroki could deal with an opponent that truly outclassed him in speed.

oooOo Shoto oOooo

His opening volley was avoided, but he'd expected that. Midoriya had been fighting toe to toe with him for the last two events, and had shown no sign of slowing down in both of his tournament showings. Shoto had heard that his classmate had collapsed suddenly after winning his last bout, but he'd had… other things on his mind at the time, and hadn't witnessed it in person.

Either way, it was irrelevant, he'd put down his formidable class president with his ice alone, no matter what miracle he tried to pull this time.

Shoto swept his hand through the air, sending jagged shards of ice racing after the fleeing teen. Izuku ducked flluidly around the arena, dodging each of Shoto's probing attacks, until something about him changed…

Shoto was quickly reminded of the paralyzing sensation he'd felt in the cavalry battle, but he did not let it dictate his response this time. He did, however, feel the exact moment the green-haired boy's demeanor changed, barely following the instinct to defend, in time.

Shoto's eyes widened as he hastily erected a shield of ice, blocking a hail of small daggers that flickered across the distance between them in an instant. He winced as the blades slammed into the barrier, peppering his face with flecks of frost dislodged from the impact.

He glanced with arched brows at the daggers, even as the material shifted from a solid back to a liquid before his very eyes.

Was Midoriya insane?! The blades had buried themselves to the hilt in his ice, and would have left his torso like swiss cheese had they flown true.

He stepped around the shield of ice, moving to retaliate, only to blink at empty air…

Midoriya was gone.

A prickling sensation over his left shoulder was his only warning. Shoto turned, frost crackling in his right palm, but he simply wasn't fast enough.

A fist appeared in his peripheral vision a split second before a semitruck cracked into the side of his skull.

…

What was… where-

A knee entered his field of vision, growing alarmingly close to his nose!

Dodge!

Shoto stumbled slightly, but managed to lean away from the limb that could have knocked him out in an instant. His instinctive evasion proved to prolong the impending danger for a few moments, but that was all.

A barefooted heel snapped out, or at least he thought it was a heel, as the blur of motion was moving far too quickly to tell. The air rushing out of his lungs was all that mattered. That and the fact that he was tumbling end over end directly towards the edge of the ring.

The ring.

He had to stop.

A palm to the rough asphalt and a hastily conjured barrier of ice saved Shoto from a preemptive ringout, but the way he clung to the ice to support his weight proved his body to be far from in peak shape.

He spat a glob of dark red liquid onto the pavement, wincing at the swelling he could already feel in the left side of his jaw. As much as he wasn't underestimating Midoriya in the slightest, the boy had managed to still exceed Shoto's expectations. The power behind those blows was staggering, and to think they weren't even backed by the power of that damned quicksteel of his.

Even now, the unassuming orb of metal floated beside his opponent as the green-haired hero bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. Seemingly without a care in the world.

Shoto scowled. Was Midoriya really taking him that lightly, making a fool of him while that man watched on with that disgusting expectant gaze of his? Shoto's eyes flicked over to the crowd, that flickering spot of flame taunting him with it's brilliance in a sea of dull grey.

"That isn't your opponent."

The voice came from far too close. Vivid green eyes flashed in his vision, narrowed with an emotion Shoto couldn't quite decipher, before a fist plowed past his faltering guard, directly into his solar plexus. He heaved, bloody spittle expelling from his mouth as his pupils seemed to blur in and out of consciousness.

So much was his disorientation that he completely failed to notice the following leg sweep until the world was turned on its side.

Shoto crashed bodily to the arena floor, somehow retaining some semblance of awareness in that moment. He was being overwhelmed, again. Midoriya proving to be even more of a monster than he'd anticipated. If the fight continued like this… he'd be devoured before he could mount any defense.

Distance… he needed distance. Now.

His palm slapping heavily to the bloodstained arena floor, Shoto forced as much oxygen into his fatigued lungs as possible.

He exhaled, the bits of frost sparkling in his breath started small, before exploding into infinite fractals of deadly ice. For the second time that day, Shoto unleashed the maximum output of his mothers ability.

oooOo Katsumi oOooo

"Hohoh?! Do I sense some discord within class 1-A?! Two of your top students battling with no regard for the safety of those around them?!" The blonde annoyance from 1-b Heckled from their adjacent wall.

"Shut the hell up, Monoma! Is that the only way you can spin your entire class getting eliminated?!"

"What'd you say?!"

"You heard me! Why don't you-"

Katsumi tuned the rest of their pointless banter out, instead focusing on the match below, as well as the classmates in her immediate surroundings.

"I knew Izuku-kun was strong, but to think the distance between him and Todoroki-kun was this much…" Momo commented with wide eyes.

"Totally," Jiro nodded by her side. "I know they'd been going at it for the last few events, but this is really the first time they've fought for real… He's kinda kicking Todoroki's ass..." The message was echoed among their friends

Katsumi scoffed at her classmate's comment, unable to resist cutting in. "Did you idiots really think Deku would lose to Icy-Hot in close quarters? The nerd's been stuck on him since the match began, and that bastard's always been more of a ranged fighter anyways…"

Ponytail seemed to be considering her words, before nodding without taking her eyes off the match. "It seems Todoroki-kun has come to the same conclusion…" She dipped her head towards the arena where Izuku had nearly landed a round-ending blow on his opponent, but had paused at the last moment, flickering away before their very eyes.

Katsumi's gaze briefly tracked skyward, where she had noticed her boyfriend's path of retreat, but her classmates, as well as the rest of the audience had their attention drawn to the stadium floor, where a massive dome of ice took up the vast majority of the boundary lines.

"What's this?! Todoroki seems to have encased himself in a suuuper big Igloo, man! It seems to have stymied Midoriya's relentless assault for the time being, but who knows how long that'll last?!

Todoroki hunched form was still visible within the frosted capsule, though his image was distorted by the imperfect surface of the structure. He was visibly heaving, though whether that was from an overuse of his quirk or the damage inflicted early on, Katsumi was unsure.

Her eyes tracked upward once more-a grin teasing at her lips-where she could pick out Izuku slowly circling on his skyboard like a vulture, waiting for its prey to succumb to starvation. This would have to be Todoroki's ace in the hole, or Katsumi knew that Izuku would eat him alive...

oooOo Izuku oOooo

Izuku allowed himself a few moments to marvel at the sheer power that could be generated by Todoroki's cryokinesis. A frozen, crystalline structure born strictly from his quirk, and whatever toll the ability exacted on the boy's body.

The show of power was certainly impressive, but what purposes beyond the obvious did it serve? Izuku's melee assault had been halted for the time being, but hadn't he already proven that he was capable of breaking through his opponent's ice? So what was the catch?

Izuku slowly began to lower his altitude, growing closer and closer to the arena floor with each revolution. By this point it appeared the most of the crowd had caught sight of him. He didn't blame them for their inattention, he'd actually been forced to exert close to the cap of his agility to escape earlier. Izuku would have been surprised if the average spectator could follow those movements.

The thought brought him back to simpler times, where his most relevant goal was training, and avoiding getting the shit kicked out of him by an irritable sensei. He wondered what exactly that man was getting up to these days… Izuku would've thought that a man with such an unflinching sense of justice would have already changed the world by now, but perhaps that was just his idealized vision of the man that taught him so much. Either way-

Izuku swerved, narrowly avoiding the oddly clear, smooth spike of ice that suddenly jutted out of the structure Shoto was encased in. He huffed out a breath, cursingly lightly under his breath as the spike seemed to reach a maximum range. It halted, before gradually receding back into the main mass of ice.

So that was the deal…

Izuku had noticed an aspect of Todoroki's quirk earlier in the cavalry battle, but had never had the opportunity to theorycraft any further on the fact. But now, looking at this defensive structure that the boy had created, it all made sense.

As far as Izuku understood, to freeze anything, the object or surface had to be in contact with his right hand. To get around this limitation in the cavalry battle, Todoroki had carried around a staff that let him extend the power of his quirk to the ground, and then in whatever direction he wanted. This strategy seemed to build off the same concept, letting Todoroki touch the interior surface of his dome, and instantly fend off approaching enemies on the outside without any risk to himself.

The ice was clearer than usual, Izuku noticed, almost completely translucent compared the whitish sheen his normal ice had. This only further compounded his theory, as it must be to afford Todoroki the visibility needed to accurately attack from within the protective dome.

A grin split Izuku's face.

Now this was the kind of creativity that he was looking for!

He dove. Slicing through the air like a bullet train, Izuku's eyes tracked every single spire of ice that lanced out towards him, each quite capable of impaling him many times over. That was, of course, if any of them managed to land.

But it wasn't to be. Izuku carved through the air like a sparrow, twirling around the attacks seemingly effortlessly. That was simply the outward appearance of course. Izuku was balanced on a razor's edge, one false move could leave him pasted on the concrete below, but he did not let that deter him.

His prosthetic left hand smashed through a spike of ice he hadn't quite managed to dodge, spraying frost up his arm, but Izuku paid it no mind, keeping a level head even as one clipped the edge of his platform coming dangerously close to unbalancing him.

But if there was one thing that Izuku knew, it was how to keep his balance under pressure. He continued his rapid approach and evasion, constantly searching for a weak point to this seemingly impenetrable defense

There

A gap through the morphing, razor-sharp ice, enough to give a clear view of the dome itself, Todoroki's form barely distinguishable through the frost filling the air. Izuku latched onto the opening like a hound with a bone, slipping through the gap by leaning back nearly parallel with his skyboard.

He hissed as a jagged shard of ice nicked the edge of his cheek, narrowly missing his eye, but he paid it no mind.

With a sharp exhale and a familiar exertion of will, Izuku's quicksteel shifted slightly beneath his feet, coalescing into a shape much more suited to… piercing than the skyboard he used for mobility.

While the small space beneath his feet remained flat, its reflective form extended downward, more resembling something one would find at the end of a piked weapon.

Izuku rocketed with his makeshift Icepick towards Todoroki's ice dome, but it came as no surprise that he wouldn't let it happen so easily. The Ice shuddered, morphing to reinforce and thicken his defense at the point of impact.

Crraack!

Gusts of frost and ice filled the stadium as the quicksteel pike slammed with an earthshattering crash into Todoroki's dome of ice. Spidery cracks branched out from the epicenter of the attack, where the once-flawless ice had concaved from the impact.

And yet Todoroki's defense held, in a sense…

Had that single attack been Izuku's only hand to play, Todoroki may have come out on top of that clash.

But that was merely the bait. A flashy, powerful, full frontal assault, intended to draw the majority of his opponent's ice to fend off the attack. This Ice dome was a different application of his quirk, the ice was quicker, harder, and who knows what else. But Todoroki also seemed to reuse it, circulating the same ice throughout the dome. So... If a large quantity of the ice was suddenly dedicated to defend against a massive attack from the front, then at the back…

Izuku had flipped off his main mass of quicksteel at the last second before impact, briefly touching down, before flashing to the opposite side of the ice. He grinned savagely at Todoroki's back, the boy's form far more distinguishable through the thinner ice.

But even weakened as it was, Izuku doubted that he'd be able to punch through with his natural strength alone. No, the power boost of his quicksteel was key, but luckily, there was one small bit left that hadn't been dedicated to the main attack…

His metallic left hand creaked as it clenched into a fist-and Izuku may have clenched his butt cheeks, but he'd never admit that-and smashed his way through Todoroki's last bastion of defense.

Todoroki was already turning before he'd even cracked through the ice, but it was too late. Izuku swatted aside Shoto's swinging right arm, catching the boy around the neck with his quicksteel left hand. Todoroki stilled, and Izuku took a moment to huff out a breath of fresh air even as the icy shell crumbled around them.

"Hahh… What a waste, Todoroki-kun…" Izuku sighed, peering up at the heterochromatic student with lidded eyes.

Shoto's eyes narrowed down at him as the roaring crowd grew to a crescendo, but it was when the boy's eyes once again flicked over to one particular spectator, that Izuku's patience snapped.

He released his hold on Todoroki's neck, kicking him away before he even hit the ground.

"Are you sure you want to be a hero, Todoroki?!" Izuku shouted, a rare bit of heat entering his voice. "If you wanted to spite your father so much, then why not become a baker, huh?! I bet that'd piss him off!"

Izuku plunged his left arm into the main mass of quicksteel, willing it to restrain Shoto's arms and legs, leaving him floating spread-eagle in mid-air. Izuku nearly laughed at the mix of confusion and hatred that came over Shoto's face.

"I'll be a hero, and I'll be nothing like him!" Todoroki snarled.

"Then at what point will this grudge of yours stop taking priority over the responsibilities of being a hero?" Izuku said with a gaze so cold it gave even Shoto the chills.

The words came almost of their own volition, as if someone else was controlling his mouth, but there was an air of honesty to them. "Win the Sports festival with ice alone? Fine. But where do you draw the line?"

Todoroki's scowl faded slightly, but Izuku was on a roll...

"What if you were fighting a villain who was particularly weak against that part of yourself," Izuku said, nodding intently at the quicksteel restraints.

"I don't need his power!"

"Not even if you could prevent a life-changing injury?" Izuku commented lightly, glancing at his quicksteel prosthetic.

"That's not-"

"Not even if you could save a life?" Izuku finished, the weight of his words seeming to weigh heavily in the air.

The fight seemed to drain out of Todoroki, at least physically anyway… The tension left his body, and he ceased struggling against Izuku's bindings. In fact, if it weren't for the fight still left in the boy's eyes, he would have thought Shoto was giving up. But that wasn't the case…

Steam began billowing in the previously-cold surrounding air in the same moment Izuku felt the familiar drain of his quirk's weakness to heat come over his body.

The temperature was rising, a natural effect of his opponent's second quirk. A spark of orange flame flickered into being around Shoto's left eye, before the rest followed, a brilliant orange flame exploding down his arm.

But Izuku was done helping Shoto be a better hero, he had his own battles to worry about…

In a burst of sudden speed, Izuku flickered to the boy's side, slamming a flattened palm into the junction between Shoto's shoulder and neck.

The flames immediately cut out, deprived of their fuel source with Todoroki's loss of consciousness, and just like that, the match was over.

The exultant shouts of the crowd slammed into him as Izuku's realm of focus suddenly expanded. He stood tall, Todoroki at his feet, already being taken onto a stretcher by the immediate response medical staff. His own face stared back at him from many of the massive floating displays, and Izuku finally took notice of the sorry state of his uniform. While he was well aware of every minor injury he'd sustained during the fight. What had bypassed his notice were the plethora of near-misses that hadn't damaged him... His uniform top, however, and his pants to an extent, were torn to shreds, hanging off his body in tatters. To say it left little to the imagination would be being generous…

It was then that Izuku began picking out the catcalls and sharp whistles being mixed in with the cheers…

"Aaaand Midoriya Izuku snatches the win in spectacular fashion!" Present Mic cried into his microphone. "But nobody told me about the gun show! Leave some for the rest of us, hero!"

Izuku flushed hotly, but stuck a victorious fist into the air regardless, which, to his relief, was answered by another round of cheers. He did, however, subtly maneuver his quicksteel to preserve a bit more of his modesty, before walking as proudly as possible off stage.

And Izuku'd be lying if he said Endeavor furious scowl didn't add that extra bit of satisfaction to the win. He'd like to think he'd at least got Todoroki thinking a bit more logically about his own situation, but frankly, Izuku had his own final boss to worry about…

They generally knew the conditions of Shinso's mind control quirk, so Izuku had little doubt of the outcome in a match between the General studies student and Katsumi. He sighed with humor, of course it would be the two of them left in the final round.

Izuku turned the corner, making his way back to the observation section to meet the rest of his class. Hopefully one of them would have some kind of news by now about Iida. The fact that he'd just disappeared without a word left an awful feeling in his gut.

oooOo Chisome oOooo

The pale brat seemed to be the group's leader, at least that's what they'd told him.

Odd. For someone so young.

Stain tilted his head, examining the frail boy, and the lifeless, human hands that clung to his form. Something about the quirk-in a metaphorical sense-felt off to him for some reason. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was a strange habit, but not the strangest he'd seen. Irrelevant. At least that's how it appeared...

The boy, Shigaraki, or so he'd introduced himself as, seemed to be favoring one side. A disability? Or perhaps recovering from a previous injury? Either way, it was a weakness he would gladly exploit without a second thought.

A sharp inhale brought the scent of death on the air, but considering he'd be brought to a so-called villain's hideout, he supposed that was to be expected.

Chisome's eyes flicked over towards the man responsible for this whole scenario. The odd, gaseous, teleporter who no longer resembled the swirling mass from earlier. The man had somehow stuffed his body into a trim suit and tie, and now stood behind the bar, polishing a glass with a well-practiced air of nonchalance. Stain wasn't fooled, however, that man was probably the most dangerous man in the room… in a sense.

The teleporter placed his spotless glass on the counter, before speaking in his peculiar synthesized voice. "Welcome, Hero Killer Stain, to the League of Villains. As I told you before, I believe we have goals that would benefit from our cooperation, thank you for hearing us out."

Or so he'd said.

But as soon as Shigaraki opened his mouth, and the longer he heard him speak, Stain knew that he wouldn't be able to tolerate five minutes of the boy's presence, let alone spend any amount of time working together.

No, this was a waste of time.

Until it wasn't.

Shigaraki had continued to spout his plans of nonsensical violence, what really equated to a toddler throwing a tantrum. But Chisome's interest was caught as he was shown a familiar face listed as a priority target of Shigaraki's. One he hadn't seen in person in quite a long time.

The boy from the beach. Apparently, he'd made a bit of a name for himself and was well on his way to the top. And If he'd somehow earned the ire of the sorry individual before him, then he was probably doing something right…

But as Shigaraki described his failed first attempt on the Symbol of peace, and his subsequent battle with the students of UA, Chisome felt his bloodlust rise of its own volition. A single hand, the one clamped over Shigaraki's left shoulder, stood out like a beacon in the dimly lit room. It had finally clicked what had been so off-putting earlier…

It was paler than he remembered, waxy and preserved by whatever method had been employed, but Stain undeniably recognized that particular hand. He was an observant person by nature, and had inflicted many of the nicks and scratches on it himself after all.

His piercing red eyes leveled at the man before him. He knew now that Shigaraki was no less of a stain on society than the false heroes themselves! A shudder went through his body as a red haze entered the edge of his vision. The tips of his fingers brushed the handle of his katana, itching to rip it from its sheath.

And truthfully, Stain had no reason to restrain himself any longer.

oOo

AN: That's all I got for now. It's rough as hell, inconsistent, and definitely not my best work. But it's all I can manage for now.