The first few days were almost too quiet. Izuku, his bruises mostly healed, did not have much time to think about his troubles as Yoroi Musha dragged him along to various locations, mostly talking with the people in the neighborhood. Some of them even wanted to take pictures with him, recognizing him from the Sports Festival and asking him for autographs.

It wasn't a publicity stunt, however. It was a show of force. Izuku could hear the whispers of the alleyways, looking and deciding not to start something with a top hero nearby. Yoroi Musha, despite his age, or perhaps because of it, commanded respect in the streets of Shibuya.

That and a rather bashful attitude when middle and high school students came up to him.

Yoroi Musha used no weapons. He had no big agency. He knelt before no banner, owed allegiance to no one but himself.

And yet Izuku felt he wasn't learning a lot. Every morning, before they would go on patrol, they trained. Izuku felt he couldn't learn much besides the painful lesson of how to fight a faster and a stronger opponent.

Yoroi Musha knew that as well.

"You will learn the sword from your master," he said yesterday. "You will learn the spirit of heroics from me."

That was fine by him.

If there was anything he felt he lacked at this point, it was the spirit of heroics. Rather than never having it, however, Izuku felt like he lost it somewhere in the miserable haze that was his past weeks since starting U.A.

He couldn't find his mother, and he couldn't find Tenko either. He knew she was still alive. He wasn't sure how. It was a feeling, perhaps his connection to those strange dreams, but when he listened to his heart he knew that she was still out there somewhere.

And he would find her eventually.

He would ask her all the questions he hadn't dared ask her when he was a child.

He wondered how Nezuko and Eri were doing.

"New job, young Kagura," Yoroi Musha's voice came through the small earbud that they were using to communicate. "And a long night. I won't keep you, but your help would be appreciated."

Izuku touched the earbud. It made a beeping noise. "Where do you need me?"

The crowd was restless. The Minister was still not retiring, the Prime Minister was apparently staying 'neutral' if that were possible, and the police were overwhelmed to the point that more and more agencies had been called.

Which is why Izuku was now on guard duty.

Which, due to his 'quirk' allowing him to stay quite mobile, meant 'bird eye view' duty.

He observed the crowd from a building near the parliament. They were angry, reasonably so, and standing among them simply didn't give them the same gravitas as looking at them from this point of view.

More than five hundred dead. He was surprised it wasn't the entire country in these streets. He could see other heroes he recognized online, and then some of his classmates, as well as class 1-B.

He could even see Momo at one point, handing a megaphone to her internship leader, Mirko, who was shouting orders at some protesters to move. Though people were clearly unhappy about the parliament's actions, it seemed that the image of heroes was as solid as always, allowing her to take the lead in freeing up space for the heroes to do their job.

Which was looking for someone.

No, not just one person. Izuku frowned. He tapped the earbud.

"Sir," Izuku said. "Do you have means to contact the other heroes?"

"Yes," Yoroi Musha said. "What is it?"

"About… twenty people from the gate, a man with an illegal item. Looks a lot like a suitcase, I can't tell what's inside but he's clutching it."

Yoroi Musha turned from his position at the back of the crowd and tabbed something on his wrist before speaking into it. Izuku could see Mirko and the hero Fat Gum react. The former jumped onto the gate, then crashed into the man with the suitcase.

"There's…"

Ticking.

And the clank of metal clashing against metal. Izuku could hear it all, like a warning. "Sir!"

Yoroi Musha didn't have to be informed. He turned around, finding himself staring down the street and to the approach of armed men. They didn't look like villains, simply thugs ready to turn the protest into a riot, but their approach was too methodical.

"Sir, they're coming from every direction!"

Izuku stood up, looking to the left, over the park and towards the taller buildings where the night-life of Tokyo would usually be booming. Clubs and shops were closing early due to the protests, but somehow there was still something in the distance, rumbling.

"I can hear someone," Izuku said. "He's… whispering something. Numbers. Names. Close enough to the number of protestors, and the heroes keeping things orderly."

Izuku was sure he wasn't whispering. And he spoke it with a cadence of certainty that someone would be able to hear. It was a trap. Someone who had researched him and knew about his hearing, which he did not bring up to anyone that he couldn't trust.

So it might have been someone he fought.

"How far away?"

"Ten blocks down," Izuku said, looking towards the direction. He could hear the sound of burning, crackling in his ears like it was right next to him. In the dark distance blue sparks. "Their quirk is strong enough to be visible from this distance. Fire related. Might end up doing massive damage."

"Can you hold them off until I'm there?" Yoroi Musha asked. Izuku frowned, his ears twitching.

"It's only one person, I should be able to."

"Good, if it becomes too much pull back. There's multiple confirmed villain sightings around the area, someone is trying to draw everyone away. We'll lead the evacuation effort, the interns can take care of a few thugs."

Izuku nodded when he found Yoroi Musha looking at him from the street. He breathed and ran.

He was clapping. It was slow. Mocking. Each time the noise echoed through the empty street, wisps of fire escaped from his palms. They burned blue. Izuku heard screams in them.

"It's funny," the man said. He looked… haggard. Broken. Scarred. Black hair, visible and visceral scar tissue gathered under his eyes, mouth and arms. Piercings were sitting between the corners and his mouth, tracing the scars all the way up to his ears. He sat on the ground, leaning against the wall of a small convenience store. The clapping stopped. "I thought you'd be taller."

He chose his outfit deliberately. Showing off every bit of destroyed skin.

Everything about him screamed 'villain'.

"I've heard that line before," Izuku said. He didn't draw his sword yet. He couldn't.

"Little birdie told me about you," the man said, nodding. "Said she's met her prince charming, tall and brooding, the little town samurai. Too bad you rejected her though, I think she felt hurt."

"You're with Himiko Toga?" Izuku asked, blinking. Of course she wouldn't let an opportunity to get to him outside of U.A. pass by. He listened intently, yet he could not hear anyone else. If anything, the eerie silence in this street was much more concerning.

Tokyo wasn't quiet.

Especially not the streets around Shibuya and the National Diet.

"Call me Dabi," the man introduced himself finally, standing up. Izuku frowned. What a grotesque name. With the strange heat that the blue flames gave of, it was quite appropriately chosen.

With those burn scars, perhaps too appropriate.

"Kagura." Izuku introduced himself. Tradition was important, Yoroi Musha had told him. In the end, one met the courtesy of their opponent with the earnest desire to come to a mutual understanding.

Even if one had to reach understanding through violence.

"You see, I really like this old story from the good books," Dabi said, blue flames dancing on his tongue as he spoke. "The one 'bout this kid who's born and burns his mother to the death."

"Kagutsuchi," Izuku said. His fingers were twitching. Tense. He had already contacted Yoroi Musha, this just meant holding out until backup arrived. Something like fire was much more difficult to deal with than something physical like ice.

"You ever wonder if she was mad at him?" Dabi asked.

"I imagine no," Izuku said, frowning. "No mother could ever truly hate their child. Those that do are sick."

"Ain't we talking gods? Fucking your siblings, killing your children, running scared from the maggot-filled eyes of your love. Sick is what they are."

That was fair, he supposed.

"See, imagine the following, god's born, right?" Dabi said, rubbing his hands together. Blue sparks danced on his fingertips. "Burns his mother so badly she just straight up dies, father's so grieving he kills him. You ever imagined how the kid felt?"

"I don't think you're talking about religion anymore."

Dabi's smile widened. His right side ignited completely. Fire roared into existence. It chased after him like a lion after its prey. The alpha strike came abruptly, yet Izuku was prepared. He jumped into the air, letting the fire shoot under him, then landed quickly.

His feet tapped the ground and he was off. A long way around, but safer. While Dabi followed him with his eyes and sent fireballs after him, his accuracy increasing with each as he got used to the speed, Izuku managed to get close enough after a solid spiral around him.

He breathed. And with it came a mourning prayer.

The sword was out of the sheath. Dabi dodged backwards, kicking a leg up and sending fire up from the ground. Izuku rolled forward, denying any opportunity to build a distance between them. At this range, Izuku had the advantage.

Or he would have, but Dabi seemed to have experience with that kind of fight.

Izuku had to dodge a swipe of his hand, the thin fingers of the man igniting into fire. When his sword came up it hit one of the strange iron rings on Dabi's sleeve. He made no indication of pain, but Izuku could hear the rattling of his teeth for a short moment.

Dabi's next kick came from up high.

He could've sworn he had seen this style before, but he wasn't quite sure where. He blocked, which proved to be a mistake. The sword might have stopped the leg from the awfully flexible firestarter, but it did not stop the flames afterwards. Izuku disengaged, bits of his hair singed. He patted his hair down with his free hand.

So their blows followed. Whenever Izuku would try to land a hit, Dabi had blocked him off with fire. Whenever Dabi would attack at a close range, Izuku would dodge and redirect the blows to avoid the fire that followed.

The air itself was igniting at some point. The heat grew worse and worse. The world behind him was on fire, buildings of course, but they could be rebuilt.

"See, if you had hit me with that other sword, you might've won already," Dabi said, jumping backwards and creating a massive flood of fire. Izuku couldn't dodge under it this time, instead jumping up and back to avoid the followup kick. The distance between them had grown. Izuku was breathing heavily. "But I guess that's the extent of your dedication."

"Shut up," Izuku said. He wouldn't fall to that level. He wouldn't mirror Stain ever. He would do as All Might had said.

Izuku was bowing.

He had both swords in his hands now, but it was not the wild that was calling him. It was the wind whipping around him. Dabi looked absolutely pleased to be met with the sharp blade as well, then angry when he noted that Izuku held the sword reversed. The grip was awkward due to the hilt, but the stance did not waver.

He bent down, his feet lighter than a feather.

"Fifth Form," Izuku hissed out. "Howling Wind."

Izuku shot forward. He went into the flames, the wind giving him a brief moment of protection before it crashed onto him. He hit Dabi in the chest with the crossed blades. Dabi took that moment to explode.

Izuku protected his face.

The clothes, while not entirely flame resistant, were sturdy enough as was befitting of a uniform used to fight demons.

Unfortunately for him, Dabi's seemingly random cremation was aimed rather pointedly. He ended up with a voiceless scream as his arms and hands were hit with the full brunt of it. Izuku let go of both blades, grabbing the shirt of the uniform he ripped it open, the buttons flying everywhere as he quickly pulled his arms out of the sleeves.

Not quite fast enough. His hands, still functional, were burned badly.

Parts of his hands were turning black. He could lose his hands if he didn't get treatment soon.

Dabi laughed. Not a deranged laugh that would fit his image, or an amused one that fit his personality. No, he laughed a bitter laugh.

"Man, you could've just killed me," he said, brushing at his chest. He looked mostly fine, but the flames were taking their toll. The heat was getting to him, his body shuddered not unlike Todoroki did when he overused his ice.

"No," Izuku said. He bent down, grabbing the blunt blade with fingers that wouldn't quite listen to him. The feeling in them was almost gone, the fine touch he usually had was gone, replaced by 'pressure' and 'no pressure'. "You'll answer for your crimes, so you may see just how little you've accomplished."

"This is why you heroes piss me off," Dabi said. More and more fire gathered around him. The entire street turned into a hellhole. Izuku couldn't even sweat anymore, any liquid practically boiling off him. Dabi's grin exploded from 'crazy' to 'murderous'. "And that's why I'll show you why you should've killed me in the crib!"

Izuku hated opponents he couldn't block. Fire came at him. He rolled to the right, the top of his uniform hanging around his waist. His bare skin felt like he was dancing on charcoals as he rolled on the hot ground.

"I'm sorry," Izuku said. Through the haze of hot air, he could see Dabi blink and tilt his head. Izuku rolled onto his feet. "Whatever happened in your life that made you turn out like this, I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Dabi said. Another wave of flames. Slower this time, but hotter. Izuku dodged to the left. The grip on his sword loosened. He clenched his fist tighter around the hilt. "But you will be for sure."

"You're… just like this classmate I have," Izuku said, coughing. The smoke wasn't much of an issue for his throat, he could hold a good breath for a long while and then some. It was his eyes that burned. "Unkind. Inauspicious."

"Big words for a small hero."

"Childish tantrum from a grown man," Izuku returned. Dabi didn't look particularly insulted, but he sent another wave of flames anyway. Even slower. Even hotter.

Izuku reached out with his other hand and grabbed the sword in a two-handed grip. He stepped to the right, a part of his sleeve getting caught up and burned.

"To make a strong blade," Izuku said, holding the sword in an almost obnoxiously traditional grip, "one has to strike it again. And again. And again. Until no more impurities are left."

Dabi's eyes widened. The air shifted. Izuku breathed. "What are you-"

The street under his feet cracked and melted slightly. Izuku's blade shimmered in an unseen heat. He raised his sword in the image of the man in purgatory, watching as Dabi's fire was stripped away as it made way for him.

His blade held nothing but kindness.

His body burned hotter than the sun.

"Sixth Form," Izuku announced. The sword was raised. A ridiculously simple slash from above, telegraphed and easy to dodge- "Kagutsuchi's Burden."

He struck with the grief of a fire god. The blade reflected the color of his eyes, crimson red for just a split second. Izuku cut fire with fire, blue flames were ripped apart. Dabi had dodged, taking a solid jump to the left to avoid the strike. The distance between them had become zero.

Before he could regain his footing, Izuku had already struck him from the side. The blade was blunt, but it was not a broken bone he was having to contend with. The arm caved in on itself, the bone was not snapped cleanly but ripped apart, muscle and nerves alike pierced by its pieces. It hung limply, quickly growing blue from the internal damage. Dabi hissed in pain, too proud, or perhaps too used to such pain, to scream.

Dabi's skin was sizzling where he was struck.

Izuku had to dodge when the man swiped at him, sending a wave of blue flames into every direction. The heat was getting to Dabi, he wasn't immune to his own quirk. Burn marks appeared on his face and hands, and Izuku could see the tips of his fingers turn as black as Izuku's own.

Salvation crashed into the street in the form of a Just Fist.

Dabi tried, and failed, to attack again. Yoroi Musha had already grasped his still functional arm and twisted it behind his back, knocking the villain over with his superior size and strength.

Izuku breathed a sigh of relief.

Then fell over backwards. He probably shouldn't have lied down on the boiling hot pavement.

"You've lost, kid," Yoroi Musha said. Izuku could still hear Dabi's voice as he hung onto the last remnants of his consciousness.

"Did I?" Dabi asked.

An explosion echoed in the distance.

Yoroi Musha put more pressure on Dabi's arm as Izuku tried, and failed to scramble to his feet. Izuku could see a massive pillar of blue flames in the distance. Not a similar quirk, but the same. Himiko Toga must have taken some of Dabi's blood.

"You did," Yoroi Musha said with a certainty that took all the worry from Izuku's chest. He listened once more.

The explosion was not accompanied by any screams.

"Ah," Dabi said, still smiling that derisive smile of his. "Too bad."

Chapter 24, upcoming:

"The Prime Minister has resigned, his entire cabinet is being uprooted, elections are being set up faster than All Might can say 'I am here', and you expect me to take this as what? A minor setback?"

"I expect you to see this as a new opportunity," the man said, smiling at him. "While the government may no longer offer you the tools you need, I can promise you funds and equipment much more advanced than theirs."

"And I will never live a free man again, success or no, Shigaraki."

"What is a system of flawed laws to gods, Urayashiki. Who would we answer to? The National Diet, fed by the power of their constituents they abuse and undermine? The police, who had to cry for help at the slightest sign of trouble? The heroes, who perpetuate this system where the weak believe themselves to be in power?"

Hisashi's face twisted in disgust and fury.

And yet, despite his obvious disdain, he could not say no.

It was ironic in a way, to be strongarmed into an unbalanced relationship like this after what he had done to his ex-wife.