The second floor of a store was collapsing, and there were people trapped on the ground floor and in the basement. Aizawa moved, with Mic and Vlad King at his side. He wrapped his capture tape around a load bearing beam. He and Mic took one end, ready to pull.
Vlad fell partially through the floor before he could get in position. "Damn it all, I'm stuck!"
The building groaned. It was collapsing, slowly but surely.
Mic swore and moved for the other end of the capture ribbon, but a green haired woman in a green jumpsuit beat him to it. "I got it! Pull!"
Together, they hauled back, attempting to support the buckling beam. Vlad wrenched himself free of the floorboards and joined in, throwing in his considerable bulk behind the new woman.
Mt. Lady dove, growing into a giantess and wedging her forearm between the edge of the foundation and the second story. "God, this is really hot ! Hurry up!"
Together, they held the second story at the brink just long enough for the rest of the team to drag out the remaining civilians.
"Shit, shit, it's coming down! Hang on!" Mt. Lady reached in with a massive hand, hooked her finger around Aizawa's capture tape, and dragged the four of them out.
Vlad was the first on his feet. "Is anyone hurt?" He did a quick head count.
"Ah man, that was nuts." Mic sat up, his gelled hair bent to the side halfway up. "I'm starting to regret volunteering for search and rescue. Shouldn't I be in the studio, keeping people's spirits up?"
Aizawa turned his capture ribbon in his hands. It had snapped cleanly in the middle, almost like it had been cut when Mt. Lady pulled them out. Unfortunate. "You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you weren't out here helping." He looked over.
Mt. Lady whimpered, cradling her hand. Her palm looked badly burnt.
Vlad bandaged it for her.
The new girl was on her feet, hunched over, fiddling with a knee brace. She looked like he felt; tired and sore.
Aizawa clambered to his feet, ignoring the way his knees popped and cracked. "Thanks for the assist." He said simply.
The woman looked up, panting. She wiped at her mouth with her arm. "My pleasure. I'm Inspire, and I'm getting too old for this shit." Inspire shook his hand with a cheerful smile.
Mic grinned. "Well, have you ever considered teaching?"
"Teaching is arguably worse…" Aizawa ignored the chuckles.
Rumi collapsed, panting, skin stained off-white by a thin layer of dust. Each breath came painfully.
Nejire swooped in and caught her before she could hit the ground. Gently, she laid Rumi's head on her thighs. She looked worried, and that was so goddamn irritating.
"Wipe that fucking look off your face, I'm not weak. I don't look any worse than you do." That was true, to a degree. Nejire's body was peppered in small burns and scrapes. They'd been working together, pulling people out of buildings for hours.
Rumi had gotten the worst of it though. She couldn't fly like Nejire, so she had to climb and crawl her way to people trapped inside while Nejire pulled out everyone she could from the top down. First and second-degree burns twisted around her legs. Her leggings had melted to her skin in some places. Raw blisters covered her hands and arms. Her lungs were probably bleeding, judging by the pain and the odd taste she picked up when she exhaled.
Nejire waved a hand over Rumi's face to get her attention, then started to talk at her. "You're hurting Mirko, you can't keep doing this. I'm supposed to bring you in for being mean to people, but I can't bring them your carcass. Then I'll get in trouble." There was a little twinkle of humor in her eyes as she spoke.
Rumi laughed, then wished she hadn't, when the laughter turned into a fit of hoarse coughing.
Nejire helped her sit and rubbed her back until the coughing subsided. She was being strangely gentle, as though she thought Rumi would die in her arms here and now.
Letting herself be held, Rumi imagined Nejire as Hawks, Izuku, or even her mother. It was comforting. "Y'know, you're alright. For a stuck-up hero."
"You're rude, and out of control, but you're a good person. Want to be friends?"
Rumi bit her lip and squeezed her thumbs in her fists, trying not to chuckle. She didn't want to set off another coughing fit. "Yeah, sure. Friends." She fist bumped Nejire. "Just don't make me laugh anymore, it hurts my soul." She leered up at her new friend. "So, you gonna visit me in prison after you turn me in? Pretty sure they allow conjugal-"
"I AM HERE" Those three words echoed through all of Kamino. She heard them with her heart, with her bones, with her teeth. She didn't need ears because the words resonated with her soul. Revitalized, she felt like she could tear through another city block without taking so much as a breather. The voice was unmistakable. All Might.
High in the air, something punched through the smoke and the clouds, leaving a rapidly expanding circle of open sky. Rumi watched it curiously. She felt more than heard the shockwave. The ground trembled violently for a few seconds, then went still. It had been loud judging by Nejire's gob smacked expression.
Lightning arced across the sky, ripping bloated clouds open, releasing a billion little hammer blows of rain. Rumi and Nejire were soaked to the bone instantly. All around them, and across the city, the fires hissed and withered, driven back to Hell by the storm's onslaught.
Rumi, still cradled in Nejire's arms, turned slowly to look at the older girl.
When Nejire looked down, her cheeks were bunched up by one of the most earnest smiles Rumi had ever seen. They hugged each other tightly, crying, laughing, cheering.
The worst was over.
Nejire seized, crushing Rumi. Her head was thrown back, eyes wide, mouth open, as though she were trying to say 'oh'. She fell against Rumi.
"Hey, hey, Nejire! What's wrong? What-" As she turned to lay Nejire down, she saw her.
Himiko Toga stood in the rain, completely nude. She'd let her hair down. It cascaded down her back, clinging to her skin. Blood, thinned by rain, dripped from the dagger gleaming in her hand. Her tongue wriggled wetly against pearly fangs.
Nejire gurgled, clinging to Rumi with an iron grip. A carmine stain bloomed on the girls back, spreading slowly, seeping through the fabric of her hero costume. Her right lung had collapsed. She was dying. Would die, without medical assistance.
Rumi became her wrath with a howl.
Himiko wasn't a jealous person. She was a lover. A romantic. Love was something precious that needed to be shared with the world. She didn't stab the blue hero out of jealousy, no, not jealousy. Love. Love. She'd been watching them from afar. Watching Mirko throw herself headfirst into danger, heedless of her accumulating injuries. Watching her tag team burning buildings with the blue one – Nejire, a woman that had been intent on beating Mirko down just hours ago – both working seamlessly to save the lives of people they didn't know. It was impressive. Heroic almost.
Hero.
The word brought on a fleeting shiver of anxiety. Did Mirko want to be a hero? That would be… unfortunate, but Himiko was certain that she could work with it. It might even be exciting! There was a sort of forbidden thrill to the idea of such an awfully bad girl like Himiko finding true love in a heroic do-gooder. One with a heart of gold, with the tenacity to keep fighting even after they'd gotten all roughed up and bloody.
Himiko twirled back into a graceful handspring, dodging a snap kick from her true love. She bounced back up to her feet, but Mirko stayed on her, spitting mad and closing fast. She wished Mirko understood that Nejire had been stabbed not out of jealousy, but because Himiko wanted to share their love. She wasn't angry, or even upset. The last thing she wanted was for Mirko to think that Nejire had come between them, when she wanted to welcome Nejire with an open heart!
The first time she danced with Mirko, in that abandoned restroom, had been much faster. Now, Himiko easily darted around her, staying just out of arms reach. Or legs, in this case. That made her sad. Mirko had given so much of herself today, and Himiko hadn't been there to bask in it. Now she was hurt and exhausted. It wasn't fair! She'd have to- Himiko hopped backwards again, only this time she landed with half her foot in a pothole. She tripped.
Himiko closed her eyes as she fell, waiting for Mirko's strike. It never came. Himiko's butt hit the pavement. She opened her eyes, confused. Mirko was gone, and so was Nejire. The only sign they had ever been there was the rapidly diluting smear of Nejire's blood on the pavement.
The rain was frigid. Himiko pulled her knees to her chest with a sniffle. She was alone again.
Rumi came to, staggering down the street with Nejire's dead weight draped over her shoulders. She had no idea where Toga was, or how she'd gotten here. After a moment's bleary observation, she figured part of it out. There, high above the street, was the water tower she had been using as a hidey hole. Kurogiri.
His words from ages ago filtered through the haze. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kurogiri. We are in the basement of my establishment, in Kamino Ward. I treated your injuries; you should be in perfect health."
Spurred on, Rumi slogged through the sheets of icy rain. She stumbled and fell into the crater she'd made earlier, when she ran off to fight earlier. Nejire hit the pavement limply. This is what happens. This is what happens when you go off the script. You had a job to do. One job, and you didn't do it, and now you're responsible for another death. You should have taken Hawks up on his offer. You aren't cut out for this.
"No. No! I'm going to fix you," she screamed over the storm, "So you aren't allowed to die yet, you hear me, you pretty bitch?" She turned Nejire over and slapped her in the face. She had gone so pale.
Nejire's eyes fluttered open. She was still wheezing along, but she had a faraway look to her that Rumi hated.
"We're supposed to be friends, right?"
Blue nodded weakly, a smile tugging at her mouth.
"That means you can't leave me alone here!" She was making shit up at this point, as she hoisted the girl back over her shoulders. "I have a terrible fear of being alone, and I can't hear shit, so you have to hold my hand. Keep squeezing it, so I know you haven't left me!" Nejire's fingers were ice in Rumi's hand. Please, please stay with me!
Swirly bits of golden energy floated from Nejire's hand, floating like down feathers and fizzling out in the rain. She squeezed.
Rumi sobbed with relief and kept pushing ahead. She was getting close. So close. There was only a block to go.
"We have to get to know each other, do all that basic bitch crap like getting our nails done together, and going shopping. But I hate shopping, so you're going to have to work for it." Lightning flashed and Rumi felt the thunder through her boots. She jostled Nejire on her shoulders until she could feel her chest moving in shallow breaths.
Nejire kept squeezing her hand.
"And you have to introduce me to your friends, and to boys you think I'd look cute with. I'll teach you how to kick, and you can teach me how to do that brutal judo flip thing. You can use my brother for practice!" Please don't die on me you bitch, please, please don't die!
Rumi would have called in the cavalry by now, but her phone had been demolished when she'd been shot in the leg by that riot cop. Fucking bastard. When I get out of here you can bet your ass that I'm going to find you. To make things worse, she hadn't seen a soul since… since Toga. Rumi shivered, either in rage or in fear, she didn't honestly know.
"Avoid Toga unless she makes contact herself. If she does… you can't kill her, Rumi." She sneered but said nothing. She didn't really need to. Hawks understood. "I know you're mad, and you feel guilty, but revenge will only land you in Tartarus. Please, promise me you won't let it go that far."
She was there. Finally. They made it to the bar. The door was right there. Rumi lurched. The door flew off its hinges. At the top of the steps, she turned her ankle, tumbling down. She wrapped herself around Nejire's body, cradling the girls head and neck as they fell.
Something snapped in Rumi's left arm. "No, I'm not done, fuck you, I'm not done!" For the third time, Rumi hauled Nejire back over her shoulders.
She wasn't squeezing Rumi's hand anymore.
Rumi kicked in the interior door at the bottom of the stairs and came face to face with Handy. They both froze. Handy went tense, his fingers twitched. Then Rumi saw Kurogiri behind the bar. He had no mouth, and Handy's face was covered with his hand-mask-thing, so she couldn't tell if either were talking.
Kurogiri must have said something, because Handy turned to face him so fast he probably got whiplash. His posture went from tense to shaking with fury in a split second.
Rumi dumped Nejire on top of a nearby table, then fell to her knees. "Hey Kurogiri." She croaked. "You still stitching people up on the side? My friend really needs your help. Please..." She fell, face first, shattering her nose against the floorboards.
Hawks jerked awake, disoriented. On first assessment, he was on oxygen and heavily bandaged. A saline drip was attached to his forearm. He rolled off his cot and pulled the O2 mask off his face. He immediately regretted doing that. His lungs spasmed and he started coughing. On his knees, he hacked up a wad of bloody, sooty mucous. He hastily pulled the mask back over his nose and mouth, gasping.
On his second assessment, Recovery Girl was right. He'd trashed his body out in Kamino.
Selfish. Arrogant.
A spike of fear had him extend his wings. They looked rough. Ninety percent of his feathers were gone. The wings themselves were wrapped from back to tip in gauze. Blood and burn ointment seeped through in some spots. "Ha, well, that's not great." He was pointedly aware of the other cots in the tent, each filled with a body. Recovery Girl's jab about hope stuck with him, so he put on his public face. All smiles and laid-back optimism.
He rubbed at his face, also bandaged, and wilted. With the damage to his wings, he was physically grounded. There was no sneaking away from this. He was trapped. Powerless. The sudden need to be anywhere else had hawks pulling the one-liter oxygen bottle from the machine it sat in. After fashioning a sling for the bottle out of a spare roll of gauze, he grabbed his IV tree and limped out of the medical tent.
It was night. At least six hours had passed at his best estimate. The moon sat high in the sky. Kamino burned, though it looked like the worst had been contained. Would the fires ever die? Did he die? Was this penance? Atonement for the things he'd done in the name of peace and safety? What a funny thought. He hadn't realized soulless people went to Hell when they died.
A stretcher clattered by, borne by two grim looking students. A horridly burned body lay between them. That one was unlikely to see the morning.
The commotion ripped him from his thoughts.
Compartmentalize and act. One: He failed to find Rumi, so he lost composure. Lost objectivity to fear. Two: He let fear rule him, and so didn't maintain his own functionality. Three: he failed to serve the people to the best of his abilities. He could have saved so many more if he maintained a level head. But here he was, injured. Grounded. Maybe permanent- Stop.
He turned away from the city, gravel crunching under his slippers. He ambled through the camp. The people in it were exhausted. There seemed to be a revolving door at the control center. A near constant stream of heroes and runners came and went.
The mess tent was a flurry of activity. Lunch Rush and his army of students served up a constant barrage of food to all comers. By comparison, the police's mobile command post – where he'd told Ryukyu to act like a hero. Hypocrite. – seemed dead by comparison.
Eventually he passed through the main hub and came up on rows and rows of smaller white tents, each large enough to sleep eight people.
Inko Midoriya flagged him down. She sat at the mouth of the closest tent, at the corner of the two temporary roads running cardinally through the relief area. "Hawks? Hey, Hawks!" She sat with a small group, circled loosely around a camp stove. A kettle and a pot sat on the burners.
He shuffled over, uneasy for some reason. "Oh, hey, what's up Inspire?" He smelled curry.
Inko blanched, "Oh, please don't, I'm off duty. Just call me Inko. Come. Sit." She looked worn to the bone – they all did honestly – but there was a dangerous glint in her eye, so hawks complied, taking the empty stool next to her. In her group he immediately recognized Ingenium and Uwabami. Strange bedfellows.
After a moment, he recognized the rest as UA faculty. Eraser Head, Miss Midnight, and Present Mic. Midnight wore a set of scrubs over her costume. Eraser's black hair was hoary with ash. Mic had ditched his trademark leather jacket, and his speaker collar sat forlornly, in a thousand little pieces, atop a stool. Oh joy, UA. How delightfully awkward.
"Welcome to our little luxury resort. I'm Kayama, nice to meet you, hon. This is Hizashi, and Aizawa. I'm sure you know Uwabami and Ingenium. Are you hungry? We've got extra curry." She reached for a bowl before he could respond but stopped sheepishly. "Ah… It's chicken, hope you don't mind."
Midnight - Kayama was open and kind, even though Hawks caught her eye twitching. Probably at the sight of his oxygen bottle and the IV tree he dragged through the gravel. He probably shouldn't be up and about. Oh well, try and put me back in bed. Huh… what a 'Rumi' thought, weird. Amusingly, he had noticed a little extra sass in his interactions with people recently. "No, no, chicken is delicious."
He graciously accepted the bowl, practically drooling. Carefully, he peeled the mask off his face. When he didn't hack a lung into his bowl, he happily closed the gas valve and dug in. When had he last eaten? Well before he'd confronted Ryukyu, at the very latest. So at least twelve hours. Maybe twenty. In the back of his mind, something gnawed. He glanced at Inko. "Ah… so. Odd question. How long-" How bad did I fuck up?
She cut him off. "About thirty hours. I saw you crash and burn earlier, just before you got your ass handed to you by a high school student and a granny." She stared him down. "You and I are going to have words about exactly why you crashed." She blew her fringe out of her eyes. "But for now, eat. And relax. All Might put out most of the fires yesterday. The worst is over."
"I… oh, that's great news!" It really was. He forced himself to think of something other than Kamino. O… kay then, no stuttering? No water-works? Are you really a Midoriya? In truth, he had spoken with the woman sparingly. He never really had reason to. So, it surprised him that she wanted to have 'words' at all. He would have expected that more from Rumi, or even Ryukyu. Hawks blinked and decided it would be best not to respond. He busied himself with his curry, which was incredible. Still though, his mind wandered.
The others made quiet conversation, including him where they could. Ingenium and Uwabami both were particularly social, despite their exhaustion. It was nice of them, even if he wasn't all there. He felt that itch, the need to do something. He couldn't sit still when there was a city burning behind him. As things turned out, he didn't have to sit still for long, because two tons of delirious dragon came hurtling out of the sky overhead.
Inko was already on her feet. "Oh shit, HEADS UP!"
The others leapt up quickly, but there was little they could do. Inko braced herself, reached out with both hands, and pulled. Slowly, Ryukyu's plummeting body was steered away from the more crowded areas around them. She crashed into a tent – an empty one, thankfully – kicking up a plume of dust and gravel.
They worked quickly to pull Ryukyu from the wreckage. Ingenium and Uwabami laid her down just to the side of the road.
Midnight moved to triage her. "Woah-kay, she's in shock. We need to get her to the medical tent. Ryukyu, are you hurt? Can you stand, hon?" Midnight tried to help her to her feet.
Ryukyu resisted. "No, No! I can't find her. I can't, I can't find her!" She looked around blearily, not really seeing anything, murmuring over and over with her heat-cracked voice. She was strong enough to pull away from Midnight, despite her delirium.
"Midnight, we need to calm her now, I can't cancel her quirk." Aizawa was right, if Ryukyu transformed again, it would take more than seven exhausted heroes to stop her.
Hawks cradled his oxygen tank in the rear of the crowd. He felt uncertainty in a way he hadn't since he was a small child. He felt powerless, and without his wings, what could he do here? Rumi flitted through his mind; on the day she signed her life away to the commission.
"You can't save everyone. Hell, even All Might misses every now and then. You can't put that weight on yourself before you even become a hero." He had told her.
"I know. But I can do my absolute goddamn best to save everyone," The phone pinged when she pressed her thumb to the fingerprint sensor, "or my name's not Mirko the Hero." The contract was signed. She smiled toothily at Hawks, holding her hands up by her head like rabbit ears.
Hawks shoved the O2 bottle into Mic's arms, yanked the IV from his own arm, and pushed his way to Ryukyu. "Hey, Ryukyu, can you hear me? Ryukyu? Ryuko." Hawks carefully took her hands. She focused on him. Her pupils were so contracted that they nearly vanished. "Ryuko. Do you know where you are?
"I… at camp, I'm at camp." Her face was streaked with soot. Little tracks of clean skin sat below her eyes. She'd been crying.
Hawks rubbed the back of her hand. He cooed softly. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Building. Building came down. Block twelve. We were still evacuating. So many people. B-bodies. Hawks. Help me." She clung to him, looking through him with that thousand-yard stare. "I can't find her Hawks. I can't."
He carefully maneuvered himself to pick up Ryukyu. He stood, lifting her, with an arm supporting her legs and one supporting her back. He nearly screamed. Something in his back was definitely injured. His legs shook violently. "Talk to me Ryuko. Who can't you find? Who's missing?" He started walking.
Inko looked ready to smack the shit out of him.
Midnight and Uwabami looked like they wanted to get in line behind Inko.
Ingenium was gone, probably run off to the medical tent to get help.
Eraser and Mic shared a look and busied themselves with clean up.
"I can't find Nejire anywhere! I can't find her. I can't find her. I can't-"
With both of his arms occupied, Hawks could do little more than gently butt his head against hers. "Ryuko. Breathe. Everything is okay. Tell me about Nejire? What's she like?" It was a miracle he didn't trip and drop the poor woman.
"I… She…" Ryukyu struggled, but with some gentle coaxing, she found a train of thought to follow. "She loves bubblegum… she's brave… and strong. I don't… I… she wants to see Paris when she graduates. S-she likes sashimi but hates uni. Thinks it has an awful texture." Ryuko pressed her forehead against Hawks neck. Every little thing that she knew about Nejire spilled out of her mouth. She kept talking until Hawks reached the crossroads.
It was there that Ingenium met them with a stretcher.
Hawks gently laid Ryuko on it and took her hand, gently rubbing it as she talked.
In the medical tent, Recovery Girl looked murderous.
Hawks ignored her. "Ryuko, listen to me. I know what you're going through. It hurts, I know it does. But you can't lose hope. Would Nejire ever let you down?"
Ryuko shook her head firmly, with a fleeting look of aggression, as though the suggestion that Nejire could let her down was offensive.
"Then hold on to Nejire here," he laid his hand on her sternum, "and believe in her. She's tough, she'll find her way back to you." I believe in you Rumi.
END PART I
The video of Mirko played on an old CRT television.
Izuku's heart hammered away at his ribs as he watched. Mirio wasn't smiling anymore. Sir Nighteye watched impassively, fingers laced together under his nose. The glare on his glasses obscured his eyes.
In the video, Mirko sat in a dark room. She stared at her hands, with elbows resting on her knees. The video played for nearly a minute before anything of note happened.
"I am not the villain in this story." The words were soft, but the conviction supporting them was undeniable. She reached out, grabbing the video camera. The footage shook violently and the scene cut to something new.
A little girl with ashen hair sat in a hospital bed, arms were bandaged from wrist to elbow. A stubby horn protruded from the right side of her forehead.
A tanned arm reached out from behind the camera, caressing the little girls head. "Hi sweetie. Can you tell me your name? For the camera?"
The little girl flinched away from Mirko's hand initially, but leaned into her touch as if starved for human contact. "E... Eri. My name is Eri." her whisper was so soft the microphone barely picked it up.
The footage skipped again, and Mirko was staring directly into the camera. Her eyes glowed ominously. They narrowed.
The feed cut to static…