Tatara didn't even flinch when Izuku rushed him with a beastly howl. He knew the boy would never reach him. He was only proven right by the scarlet spikes that flew in out of nowhere, burying themselves into the boy's neck and chest, throwing him off his trajectory. The teen rolled on his side with a cry of pain. He recovered admirably, however, ripping the projectiles from his body and tossing them aside carelessly.
"You're late, Ayato," Tatara scolded, though without much heat. Truthfully, he was rather glad he'd been able to bear witness to the extent of the teen's progress. A red mass of flesh covered the top of Izuku's face, pulsing in sync with his accelerated heartbeat. Eight functioning eyes protruded from the solidified RC cells, looking remarkably like four pairs of kakugan. The only difference was that six spun madly in their artificial sockets, in ways no normal eye could move. The teen seemed incredibly disoriented by the new input, if his drunken stumbling was any indication. Then again, it could just as easily could have been due to exhaustion. Still, he managed to leap somewhat accurately in the direction of the newcomer.
Said intruder scoffed at Tatara, dodging wild swings with pitiful ease. "Whatever. I got caught up with some shitty Heroes- talkin' bout how nobody's allowed up in this part of the tower. Annoying fuckers. Speaking of annoying fuckers- this kid! I lost ten million yen because of him! Like, what the fuck!?" Emphasizing his anger, Ayato whipped around with a spinning kick, pulverizing the teen's jaw. Setsuna and Melissa screamed, horrified by Izuku's body flopping down in front of them, further pissing off the blue-haired man.
"Shut the fuck up!" he yelled, whipping his winged kagune at them, shooting a series of RC cells in the form of razor-sharp crystals. Izuku chose that moment to leap back to his feet, and was impaled nearly a dozen times. Some of the shards even poked through his back, despite colliding with his chest, further terrifying the two girls. Izuku, however, merely grunted in pain. He didn't even pull out the blades this time, instead putting all of his attention on Ayato.
"Ho? How so?" Tatara asked, scanning the roof idly. The other teenagers were watching in fear as their strongest was easily manhandled. Even All Might was frozen, though that may have had something to do with the geysers of steam erupting from his skin. The man definitely looked like he wanted to jump in and aid his student; if he gritted his teeth any harder, they would likely disintegrate. An animalistic shriek called his gaze back to the fight. Izuku was making use of his eight spider legs in a desperate attempt to reach Ayato.
"I sold this fucker to Kanou- you know, that creepy-ass old man? Anyways, we made a deal; I get him the kid, he gives me ten million. A week later, kid kills Kanou, and now I got nothin'! It's such bullshit!"
"What, exactly, did Kanou-san want with Izuku-san?"
"Guy said something about using him as an organ farm? Called it putting his regeneration to good use. I don't know. I think he just said that to cover up how he's a pedophile. The way he went on and on about the brat made me feel… Unclean. You know?"
"I suppose I can understand where you are coming from. Kanou-san always did have a certain… Affinity, for those of a younger age."
"So basically, he's a pedo."
"Most likely. An organ farm… That would certainly explain the scar on Izuku-san's chest, as well as the hair."
"Hair? The fuck?"
"Something called Marie-Antoinette Syndrome. It occurs when a person experiences extensive trauma, turning their hair white from stress. Given what I know of Izuku-san, I do not believe he would use hair dye. As such, that is the most logical explanation."
Izuku did not seem to appreciate being talked about like he wasn't there, because he suddenly changed focus from Ayato to Tatara, lashing out at the calm white-haired man. Tatara shook his head.
"Ayato, I believe I've indulged your unnecessary desires long enough. Finish this, and let us be on our way."
"You and your necessity bullshit are so obnoxious. Learn to live a little, you boring fucker!"
Tatara sighed, casually leaning out of the way of a flailing fist. "I fail to see how something like this is amusing. The boy has obviously gone insane, and is incapable of providing any form of entertainment. It is impressive that he has reached the beginning stages of a kakuja so young, but it is also apparent that he has no control." Taking it upon himself to end this farce of a fight, he grabbed the white-haired teen by the top of his hair, slamming his face down onto a knee. Tatara grimaced slightly at the blood now staining his cloak; it was so difficult to wash the red out without turning the entire cloth pink. Good thing he could have someone do it for him, under the threat of death for failing.
Spinning a dazed Izuku around, Tatara kicked the back of his legs, forcing him to his knees. Reaching down with both hands, Tatara grasped Izuku's chin and the back of his head. Then, with all the ease of breathing, twisted violently, snapping the boy's neck like a twig.
The horrid noise reverberated across the rooftop, and more than one U.A student was ready to lean to the side and retch. They would have, too, if they weren't staring at the completely limp form of their Class Representative, held up only by the red-eyed man.
Tatara released the still body. From under the edges of cloak, a crimson tail snaked out. It stabbed itself through Izuku's chest, heedless of the fact that its diameter was about half that of the boy's torso width. Almost contemptuously, the pulsing appendage reared back, and chucked its burden over the edge of the tower.
Nobody so much as whimpered when the white-haired teen disappeared from sight faster than they could process.
"Ayato, retrieve the device," Tatara ordered. Ayato scoffed, but did it anyways, tossing the thing at Tatara. The man caught it, then rolled back a sleeve, revealing a watch. Tapping a button, he waited a few moments. Suddenly, him and Ayato were surrounded by a black liquid. It curled over them, swirling and shrinking until nothing was left. The men were gone.
Then the screams started.
Katsuki absolutely could not believe his eyes. He knew that Izuku was powerful, that he was among the best of U.A. His best friend had gone toe-to-toe with All Might during the Final Exam. There was an obvious discrepancy in terms of strength, but the white-haired teen was incredibly fast, with the reflexes to match.
Then, just now, he watched Izuku fight alongside All Might, and actually keep up with the Number One Hero. While Katsuki was only able to distract and pester Wolfram, Izuku was there in the fray, and dealt the final blow. It was humbling, despite already knowing that he couldn't match his friend. Not now, probably not ever (although that didn't mean he was going to stop trying, dammit!).
Then, those two random fucks came out of nowhere, and handed his ass to him. That blue-haired fucker, Ayato, sounded like he was having fun. He actually complained when his fight got stopped. For just a second before leaving, he'd glanced around, and accidentally made eye contact with Katsuki. The blond would never admit it to everyone, under threat of death or cruel and unusual torture, but he'd nearly shit himself. That bastard was cold. He just watched a teenager probably die, and he had the smallest, self-satisfied smile on his face, as if he'd gotten a rather thoughtful birthday present or something.
Somehow, the white-haired fuck, Tatara, was worse. His eyes reflected not even a hint of emotion. They were as still as the puddles of blood splattered across the rooftop, and definitely didn't ripple when disturbed. He was probably the most apathetic fucker Katsuki had ever seen, even worse than Izuku in one of his moods. The only change Katsuki had seen on his face was when Izuku's blood got on his pristine white cloak, and he knew that was more because Tatara was worried about laundry.
Somehow, Izuku knew those fucks. He was surprised to see them, sure, but he'd known the white-haired one's name. And if even half of what the blue-haired one said was true, then they had a dark history. Just another piece in the puzzle that was Midoriya Izuku. It irked Katsuki that he kept uncovering new facts, but was nowhere near figuring out the information he already had access to. HIs friend was incredibly private.
He almost might be incredibly dead.
Toshinori couldn't move, and it wasn't just because his muscle form threatened to disperse. He'd likely just watched his student die, and there was absolutely nothing he could do. The instant he tried to stand up, All Might would vanish, and a skeletal man would be left. Sure, in his true form, he was rather impressive… For people without Enhancement Quirks. To try and fight those newcomers in this state would be suicide
Despair was a powerful force. It could keep the mightiest Hero kneeling on the ground, groveling for mercy from whatever deity was watching at the moment. It locked the joints, stilled the tongue, froze the blood, stopped the heart. For all the despair Toshinori was drowning in right now, he knew it was worse for his students. They were children, innocent of the reality of this world. Well, perhaps not completely, but Toshinori wouldn't be surprised if death was a fairly foreign concept to them.
It was because of this that Toshinori stayed put. He knew, should he attempt to fight these Villains, his efforts would be in vain. He would be killed, his corpse tossed off the edge of tower like yesterday's trash. Just like Midoriya-shounen.
These poor children had just seen it happen to their classmate, one who was generally well-liked- or, at the very least, well thought of. Toshinori would be damned if he were to make them see it happen to their sensei, the Symbol of Peace, the beacon of hope for this darkening world.
And so, he ignored every moral fiber in his body calling for revenge, for him to apprehend(kill) these disgusting Villains, and hoped against hope that his student would miraculously survive.
Setsuna was blank- as blank as Izuku's red eyes, moments before he was thrown over the edge. He'd been looking in her direction, forced to turn that way by the white-haired Villain. It didn't seem to be intentional, since the man hadn't even spared her or Melissa a glance. It was almost as if he was ignoring their existence. Then again, with power like that, Tatara probably knew if someone was dangerous enough to pay attention to. Neither girl was.
Setsuna couldn't cry. It had happened so fast, she wasn't sure if she would ever completely register that moment when the light in Izuku's main eyes was extinguished. The extra six, embedded in the pulsing red flesh, fractured like glass, but the two original eyes remained wide open. Setsuna was convinced they were staring at her. Not in accusation- there was nothing she could have done, whether she tried or not. Not with love, or any particular fondness. In fact, she wasn't sure if Izuku even recognized her in that moment. There wasn't much of anything in those eyes, aside from a mad glint, a hint of insanity, which was replaced by darkness a moment later; a moment that burned itself into her memory, to replay in her nightmares for the rest of her days.
The crack that echoed through the sky grabbed hold of her heart in a vice-grip, forcing it to contract painfully. Her nerves turned to stone. Her ears went deaf, eyes blind. All the energy in her lithe frame was stolen, along with her breath, and her mind darkened. She slumped to the ground, succumbing to shock. In a distant corner of her brain, Setsuna could hear a tiny voice.
It's a good thing I got that kiss.
Momo was moments away from hysterics. Or perhaps she was already there; it was unlikely that a hysterical person would be able to tell. Her breath came rapidly, her heartbeat elevated to the point where she idly wondered if the organ would explode. She somewhat wished it would, just so she would never have to recall this scene. It was almost as bad as watching Midoriya-kun devour that Nomu, covered in thick, black sludge.
Then, it occurred to her that, no, it was not as bad. This was a thousand times worse, at the minimum. Her fear of the white-haired teen back then paled in comparison to her fear for his fate. That realization was startling, though the surprise was lost in her panicked thoughts, all of which focused on a common topic; is he dead!?
Deep down, in her subconscious, Momo knew the answer to that was, of course. Nobody survives getting their neck snapped, and even if- if!- they did, they definitely wouldn't live through the two kilometer or so fall from the top of this tower. Logic dictated that Midoriya-kun was dead. There was no hope for him.
And yet, despite her rational thoughts, Momo found herself desperately wishing it wasn't true. Though she may have acted like it, she didn't dislike Midoriya-kun. She merely feared him, after his display at the U.S.J. She had been getting better, too, but these things took time. TIme she apparently no longer had. And she'd only just recently been able to bring herself to meet his sparkling emerald eyes, if only for a moment.
Then, like she was struck by lightning, Momo realized these worries were completely inconsequential. After all, what was the point in fixing a relationship with a corpse?
The dam broke, and the tears started falling.