Izuku ate breakfast at Nezuko's place. No school in the time after the Festival was something he could indulge in, they would have one meeting on Monday so the students would have time to pick their place for the work experience internships that they had to do.

Eri was sitting in front of the TV, having eaten before he arrived. She was watching a replay of his fight against Momo, bouncing whenever they clashed. Izuku felt weird watching it, the expressions he was making and the things he said causing him to blush whenever Eri looked towards him in awe and inspiration.

"You have chosen a good name," Nezuko said. "Though I find theatrics mostly pointless, to seek to bring your own Sun-like Breath into the world requires an auspicious name. I hope that those you teach it will carry it onward with pride."

"Thank you," Izuku said, still red around his ears. "You honor me, Nezuko-sensei."

"To see it used to such success despite your lack of mastery is truly commendable."

"Commendable?" Izuku asked, blinking. "No criticism? Pointers on what to do better? Nothing about my behavior being unfit of someone of my status and training?"

"If you expect me to criticize your self-indulgence in that fight with the Todoroki boy, you will be disappointed," Nezuko said, sipping on the tea. "You've won, after all."

"I still feel like I've let you down somewhat," Izuku said, scratching his cheek. "I've stooped to a level I shouldn't because his father provoked me."

"Then that is the lesson you've taken from this," she said, smiling. "Passions aren't to be discouraged. We all have our vices, if you believe me above emotion when in battle, you will be disappointed in me."

"Aizawa-sensei disagreed," Izuku said. The man had not been angry, but his criticism was harsh and pointed. "He said behaving like that was unbecoming of a hero."

"Is that right?"

"Well, I disagree," Izuku settled on, thinking back to all the heroes he's met. "Aizawa-sensei tries to be detached and a bit caustic, keeping a distance between himself and everyone, but he's earnest as a teacher and sometimes too invested in us. Endeavor is just plain… I wouldn't say evil, but certainly unfit as a parent if not as a hero. All Might is…"

All Might.

It was weird. The man sounded like he was running on fumes lately. Every day the hissing sound of the man's heart grew louder. Izuku didn't have it in him to ask. He didn't have it in him to wonder, because he feared that he could not handle the answer.

"I don't think there's one perfect way to be a hero," Izuku said. "People are different, they behave differently, and in the end they save people differently"

"Why are you so eager to be criticized by me, then?"

"He said to drop your weapon is stupid, it would be like anyone else refusing to use their quirk."

"It doesn't matter what weapon you use, remember what I've told you when you first took that sword from my hand to begin your training in earnest." Nezuko's voice was firm. "The blade is poison, simply touching it has caused it to seep into your skin and bones. It is not the sword that slays, it is your hand. With the breathing technique, you can shatter skulls with your bare fists."

"I think that's more Momo's thing now," Izuku said, remembering her absurd leap in strength since she had begun her own training. "She's coming over tonight, right?"

"No," Nezuko said, pursing her lips. "I believe she and her parents are having a talk today about a possible license."

Izuku scowled. He still didn't want her to be dragged into that mess, but she was more than resolute about it. Momo had taken to the idea of slaying as fast as she had taken to the concept of Breathing, though he knew that part of it was her insistence on protecting him.

He supposed they were both disrespecting each other's resolutions, such was the nature of their relationship. For two people who had just started dating recently, the concept of giving their all to protect each other felt so fantastical and over the top.

Yet somehow, every spar they had made them grow closer than every dinner they had.

There was something intimate about it.

That would explain some of Himiko Toga's behavior.

"Of course, while Tenkai wasn't wrong about the possibility of more demons appearing, it seems that whoever was working on them is keeping their head down. It might be as he said, an isolated incident, broken out of their laboratory."

"That still implies there's more."

"That implies they're careful," Nezuko said. "I like the careful ones more than I like the fools. While it will be harder to find the origin, the overall dead will be kept low. It is not a matter of whether or not people will die, it's a question of how few people lose their lives."

"Should we really measure things in human lives?" Izuku asked. Nezuko hesitated, her hand as still as the dead calm, the cup halfway between table and her mouth.

"No," she decided. She looked ashamed, somehow. Izuku could hear the wisp of pain in her voice. "No, we should not."

Monday morning. Aizawa-sensei glared at them until they shut up, his pinkie finger in his ear. Momo was grinning.

"As you all know, the internship is your first step into getting into the field as heroes," Aizawa said. "As it stands, U.A. has the fortunate advantage of the Sports Festival showing you all off to heroes who are willing to take someone under their wing. You all showed the extent of your abilities, and due to this have all received 'interest'. I have printed a list of names for each of you. Midoriya."

Izuku stood quickly. He knew he wouldn't be left alone today. He never was.

"Your list is too long, I'll hand out everyone else's list first and you can come to my desk then."

Izuku nodded, sitting down again and blinking in surprise. Too long? The people murmured, Aizawa went around the room and handed people lists. The ones of the finalists were longer than others, especially Shinso looked absolutely gleeful at the twenty or so names on his list.

Momo herself had ten times that.

Todoroki's own list was numbering in the thousands, though his stare was fixed on a single name at the top of it. Izuku didn't need any powers to tell him what name that was.

When he was done, Izuku walked up to Aizawa's desk. The list was the length of a book, maybe twice that of Todoroki's. At a glance, he could see the Yaoyorozu hero agency as well, though he didn't really know much about the heroes that worked there.

"If you want a suggestion," Aizawa said, looking over the files for a specific name. He grabbed a highlighter and went down the list with his finger before highlighting a specific line. "When it comes to people who might pick you up as a sidekick once you're done with school, this man would be it."

Izuku blinked. "Yoroi Musha? The top pro hero?"

The "Armor-Clad Warrior" was the oldest hero in the top charts. While there were older heroes overall, the fact that the man had been in the top ten since before All Might had made his debut in Japan spoke volumes of his skill and publicity.

Izuku was more amazed that he had gotten an invitation by him.

"Don't look so dumbstruck," Aizawa said, jabbing the end of the highlighter into Izuku's forehead. "The first-year who takes the tournament often ends up with invitations from half the top ten hero chart, the only people who haven't asked for you were All Might, who is too busy with part-time teaching, Endeavor, for obvious reasons-"

Izuku had to resist trying to laugh it off. Aizawa would likely just deck him one of these days.

"And Edgeshot, but that's mostly because he was more interested in some of the class B kids."

Izuku checked the list anyway. It wasn't like he didn't believe him, but seeing the names of 'interested heroes' was something that filled him with pride.

Seeing names like Hawks and Kamui Woods filled him with awe.

"You'll have a class with Midnight today in which you will pick your hero names," Aizawa said loudly, addressing the entire class. "While changing your hero name is nothing unknown, a lot of people are stuck with the names they pick in U.A., so please take it seriously. Imagine you had to pick a name to be called by for an average of thirty years."

Aizawa finished up and grabbed his things before leaving. The class was left alone, and the chatter began anew. Momo stood up, walking towards him, as did Iida and Uraraka. Uraraka was still a bit fidgety around him, but her apology after the Sports Festival had done enough to mend the friendship to an extent.

It wasn't really an apology he needed as much as it was an apology she needed to say.

"Have you picked yet? I overheard the suggestion," Momo said. Izuku sighed.

"I'll probably take it," he said. "There's something to be learned from older people, after all."

Nezuko Kamado was the living proof of that.

"What about you?" Izuku asked. Iida shrugged, answering first.

"My brother, of course," Iida said. "If anyone can teach me the ropes when it comes to our quirks and hero work, it should be him."

"I'm not sure yet," Uraraka said, smiling. "It's not that long of a list though, I suppose I don't have much trouble in picking."

"I had an offer from Yoroi Musha as well," Momo said. Izuku blinked. "But I don't think I'll take it. I'm more interested in someone else."

Momo pointed at her list, a name she had marked with a small circle.

"Mirko?" Izuku asked. "She's… fast rising in the charts, isn't she? I heard she's very strong."

"That's what I want to work on," Momo said. She looked almost embarrassed. "I'm… kind of having trouble controlling my strength lately, even without using my quirk.

Izuku nodded. The excuse that her strength came from the training with her quirk and his master's training was quite a stretch, but nobody could say it was the weirdest thing a quirk had ever done and they didn't dig too deep.

"I guess we'll see each other at training then," Izuku said. "Or maybe our agencies are close together so we can patrol in the same neighborhood."

Momo nodded, smiling.

Inko Midoriya was foolish.

Not stupid, as it would be inappropriate of someone who had once been a capable member of the Todai Biology department, which was Japan's greatest pride in that regard, but foolish.

As she had been played for a fool.

Her hand had been forced, or so she thought. In the end, the truth was that she had been tempted by threats and empty promises, until she had lost her soul.

It was twenty minutes past three in the morning. The soft whirr of machinery and a perpetual headache were just things she had to get used to as she sat in dark rooms with lit up displays, calculating a hundred different variations of their latest sample.

"Coffee?" someone to her left asked. Inko nodded thoughtlessly as she moved the cup over, her eyes unmoving as she stared at the latest prediction. Fifteen percent. 'Good enough'. The cup to her left ended up filled almost to the brim. A small image became visible as it heated up. A smile worthy of a hero, Izuku's favorite cup he had given to her five years ago. "You should sleep."

"What do you see, Akane?" Inko asked. Akane was a research assistant who had joined a few weeks after she had, and in some ways her only friend in the, while not competitive, highly toxic environment that was the RS-9.

"Fifteen percent," Akane read.

"Five hundred and sixty three," Inko said. Akane reacted with a start, her hands shaking for a moment, causing her own cup of coffee to spill a few drops onto the ground. "I can't do this anymore."

It was a bold statement. The admittance of failing to live up to the ideal that the workplace set for them. The hundreds of terminal patients in the 'hospital' above them waiting for the experimental treatment. It was akin to treason. Inko knew that.

"You want to quit," Akane said. It didn't sound accusatory, yet she seemed surprised. "Why now?"

"The confirmation on who eliminated Yuragi," Inko admitted. Akane blinked, tilting her head. "The demon slayer with the Nichirin blade, they tried to hide it from me but they couldn't. Of course I'd know."

"Who was it?" Akane asked. Inko frowned.

"Izuku," Inko said, looking at the cup. Her fingers were shaking as she grabbed it. "My… my son."

She knew he would end up there. She knew that allowing him to train under that woman would lead to this. She knew that, in the end, she was going to force him to do something that his heart could not take, and she wasn't even aware of it because she was rarely home.

"That's… good, isn't it? That means there's someone capable of dealing with the subjects-"

"People," Inko reminded her. Akane's mouth closed with a click of her teeth. "People."

"They won't let you quit. Not alive."

"I know."

Inko put the cup down onto the table after taking a sip. She glared at the screen, closing the prediction for the fifteen percent formula she hadn't able to improve at all and typing something in. The screen went black, then green, then black again. After a few seconds, a text-only file browser opened up.

"In the end, we are who we choose to be," Inko said, pulling something out of her pocket. She put it on top of the monitor. "We tell ourselves that sometimes we have no choice, but that's a lie. It's the biggest lie humanity has ever told itself. We always have a choice."

She pressed a combination of keys. A prompt opened up. In the corner of the screen a small window, and the soft red light of the camera she had connected.

"If you do this, they will kill you."

"If I don't do this, I will kill myself," Inko said. She hit the Y button. The files were bundled up, ready to be sent out. All that was left was to record her final message.

"My name is Inko Midoriya," she said, her eyes unfocused as she glanced into the red light of the recording camera. "For the past four years I have been participating in immortality research in a facility known as the RS-9. I was… I was recruited by my husband, Hisashi Ubuyashiki, under the threat of using his wealth and family influence to take my son from me."

Her eyes focused on the files on the screen.

"I have been under surveillance by the Hashira," she said. They would know, she didn't have to name any names. If anything, it was more likely they already knew that the woman had moved next to her. "My son is under her protection now."

It was a threat. A simple but effective one. The people who knew would not dare, and the people who didn't know would not succeed.

Akane made a noise, likely of surprise.

"The files I have sent you along with this video are key to this mess-"

Or not of surprise at all.

Something happened in her throat. Inko's body went rigid after she reached up. It felt like electricity running through her veins, a poison as potent as sunlight soaking through her skin, one she was more than familiar with. It was the special anesthetic made with what was left of the wisteria they had to paralyze the subjects.

It burned in her throat and nose. She tried to cough, but her body wouldn't listen. She tried to blink, but her eyes were open and drying. She tried to speak, but no words came out.

The coffee, she realized.

Akane had poisoned the coffee.

"My name," Akane said into the camera, "is unimportant. The people who will kill me aren't going to leave a body."

Inko opened her mouth. She tried to stop her, but yet again, no voice came from her lips.

Inko knew she wasn't the only person who held the sentiment that this entire place should burn to the ground.

She hadn't expected the only friendly face in the laboratory to do this.

"With this video, I am sending you files about a secret research project, called the RS-9. Though our project is not illegal, our work is repulsive to any human morality. I am blowing the whistle."

Inko's fingers twitched. She tried to reach out. Her quirk worked slightly, but it wasn't strong enough to rip the camera away. It turned only millimeters.

"Don't," Inko managed to get out.

"Five hundred and sixty two," Akane said, her eyes moving towards the ground, facing Inko. "That is how many people I have killed. They were dying already, but I gave them that last injection. This is a guilt I have to live and die with."

The camera was shut off. Inko could see the screen flash. Her own recording was cut away in a few keystrokes, Akane's recording was sent along with the files.

"Why?" It was the only question on Inko's mind.

"Because sometimes it's time to stop pretending that we have no choice," Akane said. She pulled something out of her pocket. Another syringe. She aimed it at her own neck.

She had come prepared. Sample Five Hundred Sixty Three. The calculations on the computer were for a sick person who had to be 'fixed'. In a healthy person, it would lower into fractions of a single percent, their cells would multiply and burst-

"You have more to lose than me. Find a better way out. This is mine."

The syringe was stabbed into Akane's neck without any resistance. It hissed slightly, then pumped the ghastly white liquid into her neck. Her eyes went blood red. The blood that came from her nose followed suit.

"And for whatever it's worth," she said. Her voice sounded hollow and weak, accented by teeth falling out and blood spilling onto the ground. "I don't think you made a wrong choice at all."

Inko was still lying on the ground as the woman collapsed, bleeding from every orifice.

Chapter 21, upcoming:

Triumph all ye Cherubim

"Your mother is a good mother, with a single flaw that all good mothers have," Nezuko said. "She cares about you so much, she would burn the world for your sake."

"You've lied to me," Izuku said. He was angry. Genuinely and righteously angry. It was a feeling he was familiar and uncomfortable with, but it burned so brightly that he couldn't put a lid on it again. "You knew and you told me you didn't."

"No, I didn't lie," Nezuko said. "I didn't know the circumstances of their work, or their research. I didn't know it was genuine cells which your father had pulled from that tomb. His attempts to re-create demons were unknown to me."

"He's a monster," Izuku said, his hands shaking as he cradled his head. "I'm the son of a monster."

Just this once, Nezuko had no comforting words for him.