"I'm so sorry." The girl whispered, deathly quiet. Ropes cinched tight around her wrists, biting into abused flesh. The end of the rope was quickly and carefully pushed into Nejire's right hand. "Do. Not. Let. Go."

Nejire tried to say something but could only whimper through her broken jaw. She curled her broken fingers around the end of the rope, clutching at it like a lifeline. With the way things were going, she had a pretty good idea that it was her lifeline.

"This is a waste of time. Just break her neck and be done with it." The words were raspy. Irritable.

"Fuck. Off. You told me to do it, and this is how I'm doing it. If you don't like it, then maybe you should come up with a different exercise. Why not a trust fall?" She sounded angry. There was a petty sneer behind those words. Nejire could almost imagine the derisive curl of those lips.

Silence, for a moment, and then; "Fine. But if this doesn't kill her then it's your head. Got it?"

"Tch- whatever."

Nejire propped herself up on one elbow, deliriously trying to see what was happening. A booted foot landed on her chest and pinned her back to the concrete. She had no idea how long she'd been here. A day? A week? Himiko Toga stabbed her after All Might arrived in Kamino, then things got hazy. The rabbit vigilante, Mirko, she dragged her through the ruined city. To someone she knew, someone that treated her wound. Kept her alive. But now?

The hollow scraping of masonry on concrete echoed in the basement, followed by the rustling and creaking of the cheap nylon anchor rope that was tied to her ankles.

Oh, Nejire finally understood, they're going to drown me. "You don't have to do this." She tried to say. The words came out in a distorted mess. "Mirko, please." More whimpering. The girls shadow fell across Nejire's face as she straightened. She grimaced down at her and closed her eyes for a moment. Steeling herself.

"Kurogiri. Do it."

"As you wish." A swirling portal opened on the floor, adjacent to Nejire's body. She heard seagulls.

Mirko crouched by her head. "This isn't really how I planned for things to go." She shrugged, rose, and walked to what Nejire now recognized as a trio of cinderblocks. All lashed together with the same rope that Mirko had used to truss her up like a pig. Mirko placed her black boot on the cinderblocks. "For what it's worth, it should be fast." Mirko kicked the blocks into the portal.

A rush of adrenaline tore through Nejire. It wasn't too late, she reached for Mirko, pleading, and then the rope snapped taught. The weight of the bricks ripped her though the portal. She was falling. Nejire screamed.

"Hey, hey, Nejire. Wake up! Nejire!"

Nejire thrashed, disoriented, and terrified.

"Nejire, it's okay! You're okay, you're safe! You've been safe for months. It was just a dream, but you're here now. Everything is okay." Mirko grasped Nejire's shoulders and gently shook the girl out of her nightmares. Nejire wanted to pull away, to run, to scream, but as she became more aware, her surroundings changed. The rushing sky became the still walls of her quarters at the Ryukyu agency. The guilt-wracked face of Mirko became the concerned face of Ryuko, her mentor.

She was alive!

Nejire threw herself at Ryuko, who pulled her into a tight hug and let her blubber until she exhausted her tears.

"Oh, honey, you can't keep doing this." Ryuko ran her fingers through Nejire' hair, massaging her scalp in a soothing way.

"I know." She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. "I know. 'm sorry I woke you. What time is it anyway?" 3:12 AM according to the clock on the bedside table. Well now Nejire felt awful for a totally different reason.

"Don't you dare beat yourself up, Nejire Hado." Ryuko narrowed her eyes. "I know how that brain of yours works."

"No, no, I wasn't, I swear!" Nejire laughed awkwardly and rubbed at the back of her neck.

Ryuko crossed her arms, unimpressed. She sighed. "I was having trouble sleeping anyway. I was already up."

Before things could get awkward, Ryuko clapped her hands and stood. "Well, I doubt either of us will be getting back to sleep again any time soon. What say we get some coffee and go for a spar? Or a flight around town? We could catch the sunrise, have breakfast on the roof?"

Nejire was falling, falling, falling. The air rushed over her ears, deafening. The frigid grey maw of the ocean waited to snap her up. She shivered and wrung at her blanket. "Ah… sparring. Sparring sounds nice. It's probably pretty cold out now anyway, and well… lets- lets spar." She swallowed painfully.

Ryuko gave her a sad smile. "Alright, we'll spar. Change into your uniform and meet me in the kitchenette?"

"Uh, I think my uniform is dirty. Why not… Spar in our PJs? It's… different. It could be fun?" Nejire's smile didn't reach her eyes. It broke Ryuko's heart.

"Actually. Nejire. I had the support department launder and repair your uniform. So, you should be good to go. I even ordered you a few full duplicates of your standard equipment, so you shouldn't need to worry about not having anything."

"O-oh… that was… thoughtful of you. Thank you, Ryukyu." Nejire couldn't find the spine to meet her mentor's eyes, so she stared down at her lap. What had she ever done to deserve recognition from this woman? Ryukyu was the number four hero for crying out loud, and here she sat, Negative Nejire, unable and unwilling. She should just give up. Go home. Go back and tell her parents that they were right.

The bed creaked faintly as Ryuko sat again. She ran her hand through Nejire's bangs. "I know it's hard for you to step back into your life, into your old routine, after what happened. Believe me. After I lost my sister, I… It was so hard to do what I used to without thinking of her. I didn't fly for two years after she… after she passed." She took a shaky breath and composed herself. This was so dreadfully important; she couldn't afford to mess it up.

"Nejire, you're the closest person that I have to family in the whole world. I care about you. I love you, so much, and It hurts to see you like this. And honestly, I'm about at the end of my patience with you." She spoke softly, gripping both of Nejire's hands. "You can't just wait for something like this, this trauma, to get better. It won't go away on its own. And if you don't want to see a therapist, then you're going to do things my way. Okay?"

Nejire blanched and looked away, eyes threatening to spill over again. Ryuko cupped her student's cheeks, turning her head back. She softly pressed her lips to Nejire's forehead.

Ryuko stood with a smile. "Please put your uniform on again. Just try. For me? Take your time, I'll be waiting in the Kitchen." And wait she would, Ryuko would have all the time in the world until she returned to active duty. She wasn't about to return alone either. They'd go as a team or they wouldn't go at all.

Half an hour later saw Ryuko outfitted in her own costume, with a steaming mug in hand. A sappy romcom played softly on the tv and was largely ignored in favor of the morning paper. The door slid open quietly, catching her attention.

Nejire stood in the doorway, sweating bullets and pale as a sheet, but she was here, and she was fully kitted out for duty. She even took the time to style her hair into her signature horns. "Ryukyu." She swallowed hard. "I… I want to… Will you go flying with me? A-again?"

The dragon in Ruyko's chest roared triumphantly. Nejire Hado had a spine of steel, she just needed to be reminded of it from time to time. One flight wouldn't magically solve Nejire's problems, no, not at all, but it was a step in the right direction.

Present Day

"Even though you passed the written exam with flying colors, getting zero points on the practical naturally results in failure."

All Might's somber words crushed Izuku. At his desk in his room, he bowed his head. He tried, he tried so hard, but it wasn't enough. He failed. Worse, he let All Might down. He honestly didn't know what to do. Maybe it wasn't too late to apply to Shiketsu High? Or Ketsubutsu? It wouldn't be All Might's alma mater, but… it had to be better than nothing, right?

"But that's not the end of the story! Let me entertain you!" The screen to All Might's side flickered on, and Izuku saw the soft round face of the brunette girl from the exam, Uraraka. Izuku let himself feel a glimmer of hope when Uraraka asked Present Mic if she could donate some of her points to him.

"I'm afraid we can't give him your points Miss Uraraka, in the interest of fairness and all that," Present Mic said, patting the girl on the head, "But there shouldn't be a need for it, my little listener!"

That fledgling hope grew stronger. Present Mic said there wouldn't be a need for it. Did that mean…?

"Young Midoriya, you've acquired your quirk, and through your actions you've moved and inspired others. This exam, you see, we weren't just counting villain points! A hero course that rejects those who do the right thing, is no hero course at all! In this job you risk your life and put your money where your mouth is!" All Might's speech was picking up speed and volume. He was practically thundering though the small speakers on the projector disk.

Izuku was on the edge of his seat, literally.

"Rescue points were also a factor in the practical exam, another fundamental way for UA to evaluate you. Sixty points for Izuku Midoriya!"

His jaw dropped. Sixty points? Sixty! That, that had to be enough. It was enough!

"Come now, Young Midoriya, this will be your hero academia!"

Izuku let out a shout, though it probably sounded more like an excited squeal. He snatched the projector disk off his desk and ran down the hall, skidding into the kitchen on his socks. "Mom! Mom, I got- "

There was no one home. The house was dark. His mother was out on patrol.

Izuku, alone, slumped. "I got in, Mom… I did it."

Hawks flitted out of the briefing room with a cheery farewell, leaving the first generation of Hawks Agency Staffers and Sidekicks to congregate amongst themselves. He was sort of tossing them to the wolves, as it were, but in this situation the wolves were themselves. It would be good for them to get to know each other without him in the room. That, and he really, really needed to stretch his wings.

No one at the Commission had ever warned him about the sheer volume of meetings and paperwork that came with a spot in the Top Ten. Well, okay, they had, and on paper it didn't seem like much, but that hadn't really prepared him for the actuality of it. It was exhausting. Hawks made his way to the central hall for the floor, where the bank of elevators and reception were located. At the far end of the hall sat floor to ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of Musutafu.

He tossed a lazy salute at the receptionist and with a single powerful flap of his wings, Hawks rocketed straight toward those windows. Right before he crashed through the glass, the window smoothly slid open, allowing him free access to the open skies. Every window in the building operated in the same way. It was sweet.

A few seconds of flight landed him on the roof of the building. He had a hell a view from way up here. Really, he had no idea why anyone needed thirty stories of skyscraper to run a hero agency, but the HPSC made that call, not him. So now the tallest building in the Musutafu skyline was his agency. The building was brand new too, construction began less than a month after the formal conclusion of the Kamino Disaster. It was wild how quickly things were changing.

Seated on the edge of the roof, he let his thoughts wander. He wondered if UA was getting close to figuring out who messed with their servers. The Principal, Nezu, was notoriously possessive of his school. No way he'd let something like that slide. But he also had a full plate year-round as the sole administrator for the most prestigious hero academy in the eastern hemisphere. Maybe Hawks should leave some more breadcrumbs. Nezu's faculty might need a bit of a nudge to fully connect the dots back to him. Part of him hoped they'd figure out why Rumi had 'disappeared' and who was involved sooner rather than later. Maybe then she'd get a fair shot at getting into her dream school. He wasn't holding his breath though.

He'd think of something if nothing happened in the next week or two. On his phone he scrolled through his emails. Not the agency email, but his secured Commission email. Hawks had people for the agency stuff now, and man, was that hard to get used to. It still made him a bit twitchy to have other eyeballs looking at his communications. Force of habit. He was working on it.

There wasn't much new. Standard stuff from HR and the IT department. Counterintelligence sent out an alert email about about some supervillain running amok on the west cost of the United States along with a reminder that the threat level was currently set at three. So, nothing new really. The threat level was always at three, and America was, well, America.

"Oh, whoops." In the chaos of getting situated at his new agency, Hawks had completely missed an email from Rumi. She had sent it last week and it was marked Priority 1. That had Hawks frowning, because Priority 1 communications were supposed to ping the device they were sent to until they were opened. His phone should have vibrated itself to pieces by now, but he hadn't gotten a single notification.

Hawks felt a prickling in his feathers, as though he were being watched. The sensation passed quickly enough but left him feeling uneasy. Something wasn't right here. He opened it and scrolled through. The message was brief and encoded. It was easy enough to decipher, and it was definitely bad news. Kurogiri and Tomura Shigaraki were planning a terrorist attack sometime in early April. That was less than a month away.

"Oh shit."

He downloaded the attachment, a compressed archive, and unzipped it. It was a series of images, likely taken with Rumi's phone. Hawks flipped through them slowly. The first was of Shigaraki hunched over a table with Kurogiri at his side. The next dozen or so photos were scans of documents. There was a circuit diagram for a security system. Some list of names, Known Faculty? Teachers? Were they attacking a school?

The next scan was a map of the greater Musutafu area with some specific routes and destinations marked in red. He looked up and traced the actual route with his eyes. He didn't like where it ended. The final document confirmed it. A copy of the original blueprints for UA High's Unforeseen Situation Joint. They were going to attack the USJ. A school.

The last photo was a blurry one, grainy too, taken in low light conditions, and from a strange angle. He stared at it until he was able to resolve something from the blur. It looked like part of a torso. Humanoid, and incredibly strong by the looks of it. The skin blended into the dark background of the photo, so it was hard to determine the scale of things. Hawks played with the brightness and the contrast until he saw something in the top right corner of the photo.

A large brassy beak filled with sharp teeth. One lidless eyeball sat nestled into what looked like… was that… exposed brain?

This was bad. As bad as bad could get really.

Hawks hurriedly sent a reply to Rumi, urging her to maintain a safe distance from Kurogiri and whatever that thing in the last photo was. He departed immediately for the HPSC headquarters, breaking the sound barrier with the first flap of his wings. It was a long flight from Musutafu to Tokyo, but he would really rather bring this up to the President herself. In person. Forget email, it'd be a lot easier to get her attention by barging straight into her office.

Time was flying at an alarming rate. It reminded Rumi of the time she'd lost while training with Hawks, only she was one-hundred-percent lucid this time around. A few days ago, she'd made another delivery for Kurogiri. Once she handed off the package, she started pestering Shigaraki about the papers he was shuffling through. Naturally, he told her where to go. Kurogiri actually intervened, suggesting that it would be useful for Shigaraki to have a lieutenant at his disposal. Apparently whatever role Kurogiri was to play in their upcoming plans was going to keep him occupied.

Shigaraki – begrudgingly – let Rumi in on their little plot.

These fuckers were going to attack a hero school, the hero school, all for some half-baked attempt to draw out All-Might and off him with a biological terror that made Dr. Frankenstein's Monster look human. Giran had been rounding up dollar-store thugs to fill Shigaraki's roster. That's why he had been in to get his stash the other day.

None of the hired muscle were even slightly impressive, she would know, because it was her job to keep the morons in line. The sheer number of them though, that was worrisome. They had nearly sixty of them on payroll now. That was enough to swarm just about any veteran pro, because all it took was one lucky shot to put someone down. Pros were human, after all, just like everyone else.

The UA students would have only one or two pros with them, and once the teachers were down the kids wouldn't stand a chance. Rumi was fucking livid. But Hawks had taught her patience. He taught her how to maximize the impact of minimal action. So, she was going to wait, bide her time, sabotage them from the inside, and when they were disoriented and pointing fingers, she was going to crush them all.

No mercy.

Things were going great for Izuku, which was so unexpected that he though he was dreaming. Again. Life was kind of funny that way. UA was everything he had ever imagined, and so much more. Mr. Aizawa hadn't expelled him at the end of the quirk apprehension test, he had aced his battle trial with Asui against Kirishima and Sero, and he had even been elected class representative of 1A, narrowly beating Momo Yaoyorozu by a single vote.

Naturally he asked her if she would be Vice Rep, because she seemed smart and Izuku had exactly zero idea what he was doing, but the important thing is he was making friends. Like, actual, honest to god friends that were interested in talking to him for more than homework answers. Or to make him the butt of some joke. Everyone was so nice! Well, except Kacchan, but he was always a grouch, so that made little difference.

He ran his hands over the soft fabric of his new hero costume. I have a hero costume now, how is this real life!? It was pale green, like his mothers. She had seen him off on the Monday of the battle trial and apologized for not being around as much lately. The costume was – according to her – part of her apology. She made it herself, and she used actual materials from a support company to do it. It was a lot sturdier than it looked. He started shedding his school uniform.

"Hey Midoriya, you got any idea what's at this USJ place? I heard All Might's supposed to meet us there." Kirishima nudged him with an elbow. There had been a fair bit of excited chatter in the locker-room as Class 1A prepared for their first rescue training. It was only the third official day of school, but the heroics program had hit the ground running with a bunch of cool lessons and exercises. Everyone was eager for more.

Izuku, being the hero obsessed loser that he was, actually knew a bit about the USJ. "O-Oh, U.S.J.: Unforeseen Simulation Joint. It's, uh… it's like this theme park sized area with a bunch of different disaster simulation zones. That way students can practice rescue procedures in a realistic environment without the danger of being in a real one. I think there's a zone for earthquakes, flooding, tropical storms, and urban fires."

With his jumpsuit pulled up to his waist, Izuku sat to tie his shoes.

Across the locker room, Kacchan slammed his locker door. "There's six: Ruins, Landslide, Mountain, Conflagration, Flood, and Downpour. Get your fucking facts straight, Deku." He stomped his way out of the room, leaving the rest of his classmates bewildered.

"Uhh… what's his problem?" Denki asked.

A purple-haired half-pint with a lisp piped up, "Yeah, that was super uncalled for."

Iida was shouting something about "behavior unbecoming" and getting quite a few snickers from the others.

Izuku just played it off with an awkward laugh. "T-that's just Kacchan. I've known him forever, he's just… he's, uh, well he's not harmless, but… Kacchan's just… Kacchan." He blushed and busied himself with the rest of his costume.

Twenty minutes later he stood at the door to the bus next to Mr. Aizawa, taking attendance as the rest of 1A climbed aboard. "So, I think that's everyone, Mr. Aizawa, uh, sir. What now?" Mr. Aizawa just stared at him for a moment before he pointed into the bus. "O-oh, right." He scurried up the steps.

"Oh, Midoriya! We saved you a seat." That was Yaoyorozu, there was an empty seat between her and Asui. He hurried over at Mr. Aizawa's grumping. His spine went rigid when Yaoyorozu's thigh brushed against his. Izuku took great pains not to ogle his Vice Rep's… everything. Her costume was, uh, impressive, as it were.

"I like your costume Midoriya, kero."

Thank god for distractions! "O-oh, thanks Asui!"

"You can call me Tsu."

Incredible. Absolutely incredible. Girls were talking to him. Girls. Plural. And stranger still, Kacchan was the one getting bullied. UA was truly a gift from the heavens. Was this Karmic retribution for all his suffering? Whatever it was, he wasn't going to complain as he got drawn into an animated conversation with the people in the front of the bus. He was still working on everyone's names, but he recognized Jiro, Kaminari, Ashido, Kirishima, and of course Uraraka.

Class 1A, as a whole, gawked at the interior of the USJ after Mr. Aizawa herded them off the bus and into the building. Pro Hero Thirteen was there to greet them.

"Woah, it's like Universal Studios or something!"

"It's huge! Oh, oh, is that a giant water slide!?" Ashido and Hagakure were bursting with excitement.

"Alright, settle down. This is Thirteen, pro hero and rescue specialist. They're running the show today, but I'll be here to assist as needed."

Izuku noticed some strange byplay between the teachers, where Mr. Thirteen – Or was it Ms. Thirteen? He wasn't sure – held up three fingers and Mr. Aizawa grimaced. He seemed annoyed. But whatever was going on wasn't really his business, so he put it out of his mind. Today was Izuku's third consecutive Best Day Ever since starting at UA, and for the first time in a long time, he realized he was actually excited to see what came next.

At the fountain marking the center point of the USJ dome – quite far from Class 1A, which stood atop the landing of the ridiculously large staircase at the main entrance – a rippling purple void slashed through the air. It widened, until it was a few meters in diameter. It was hard to make out the details from so far away, but it was pretty obvious that the purple void was a portal of some sort. A group of people stepped through. A large group.

"Uh, Mr. Aizawa," Yaoyorozu asked with some uncertainty, "is this part of the simulation?"

"No." It didn't take long for him to assess the situation. He pulled his goggles on and loosened the capture ribbon that hung around his shoulders. "Those are villains." Like a switch was flipped, the exhausted and cranky Mr. Aizawa was replaced with Eraser Head, veteran capture hero. "Thirteen! Stay here and protect the students. Call for backup if you can!" He didn't wait for Thirteen's response, instead hurling himself down the stairs and right into the thick of it. As it turned out, Eraser was right. They were villains. A whole swarm of them.

So much for Izuku's streak of good luck.

Rumi pressed her forehead against the cool glass, trying to keep herself together. She'd done what she could. She warned Hawks. Sent all the evidence she could collect without blowing her cover. She waited, and waited, and waited. And what did she get? Nothing at all.

Nothing. Happened.

Breathe.

Where were the cops? The heroes? Where the fuck was Hawks? She was sitting in an old subway station with sixty-fuckin-three people that were sure as shit guilty of conspiracy to commit a terrorist act, and conspiracy to conspiracy to commit murder. And those were just the big ones. Fucking hell, these idiots already agreed to do it for the money! That should be enough evidence to send in the fucking SWAT team, for crying out loud. So why was it still business as usual in Shigaraki's fucked up little clubhouse?!

She'd been here for nine months. Nine. Goddamn. Months. Nine months of twisting the wrong arms, of cracking the wrong skulls, for all the wrong reasons, all to get close enough to put the right people behind bars. And she had nothing to show for it. Shit, she'd thrown away her chance at a stellar education and probably destroyed her home life for this. For this!

"For fucking… NOTHING!" Rumi screamed. She ripped the mirror off the wall, turned and hurled it into the opposite wall. The sink went next. It shattered beautifully. Water sprayed out of broken pipes, raining down on the mosaic of shattered glass, porcelain, and tile she'd made on the restroom floor. She sucked a ragged breath and crouched, curling into a ball. She snatched up the tips of her ears and tugged them down until it hurt. Her chest heaved as she sucked in great breaths.

You've had your little tantrum. Move on.

Rumi rose smoothly. Face placid she side-stepped the deluge of water from the broken pipes and checked her appearance over in another mirror. Satisfied, Rumi left the restroom. After sending one final message to Hawks, she put on Mirko's mask and made her way down the stairs to the platform, where Shigaraki, Kurogiri, and… Nomu were waiting.

I'm not okay.

The harsh clack-clack of steel on tile preceded her arrival. Today would be the first trial of her first self-made support item. The heavy steel toe-boxes were meant to improve her stopping power and protect her feet from excessive damage in combat. Time would tell if they worked as intended.

"About damn time, you're late, and what the hell are you wearing?" Shigaraki was visibly excited. Apparently, this was his first big event without direct oversight from 'Teacher', whoever the fuck that was. Mirko had a pretty good idea who it was actually. She didn't know their identity, but she was damn certain that whoever – whatever – was behind that computer monitor in the bar was Teacher. "Welcome home, my dear." Rumi also really, really didn't want to think about it.

"A bunny suit, what's it fucking look like?" It was the reason she'd been bullying Giran into supplying her with tools and raw materials. She sewed the bunny suit herself from specially treated aramid fabric. There were a matching set of french cuffs on her wrists and a utility belt slung around her hips. It was all a lovely navy blue that went great with her skin. She hid the burn scars on her legs under 40 denier tights.

To accent everything with a little pop of contrast, wore a white collar with a little navy bowtie and she'd pinned a white rosette ribbon her right hip, with 'MIRKO' printed in gold in the center. She finished the look with heavy eyeshadow and mascara. She was actually kind of proud of the ensemble, it looked pretty evil to her. And sexy. Her mother would hate it.

"Let's get this the fuck over with. I want my money." She side eyed Nomu. The gargantuan thing stood there next to Shigaraki, staring off into space, with his brain just… hanging out. First Himiko Toga, then Kurogiri the robot butler, Shigaraki the hand fetishist, and now zombie bird Hulk? What the actual fuck was wrong with the people in Kamino Ward? It had to be something in the water.

Shigaraki was rasping at the crowd of degenerates that he was calling a 'crew'. They stood on the subway tracks. They were literally beneath Shigaraki in a way. Naturally. Mirko rolled her eyes.

"-kill All Might."

The crowd went fucking wild. Idiots, all of them. But that was her cue. Mirko stepped forward. "Listen up! While Shigaraki and Kurogiri deal with All-Might, you lot report to me. You've been split into groups by your usefulness. If you don't know what group you're in or what you're supposed to do when we get there, then get the fuck out. Right now. Any questions?"

She was about to hand things back over to Shigaraki when some idiot had to prove that he had the biggest cock in the room.

"Show us your tits!"

You could hear a pin drop. Mirko pinched the bridge of her nose. "Apparently… some of you don't know who I am. Let me fill you in." A thunderous crack echoed through the station, as Mirko vanished from sight, leaving a cloud of concrete dust and shattered tile in her wake. "ANYONE ELSE?" She roared from the back of the crowd, where she stood over the quivering pile of meat that spoke up just a second ago. He wouldn't die, Mirko made certain of that, but he'd never walk again. One down, sixty-two to go. "Well, it seems like I've answered everyone's questions. You have the floor, Shigaraki."

Mirko spat, wiping a spatter of blood from her cheek. The longer she spent undercover, the more she realized just how good she was at hurting, at maiming people. It made her sick to her fucking stomach some days.

Shigaraki motioned for Kurogiri to open the portal. The mooks filed through first. Kurogiri could only open the portal so wide with the destination as far away as Musutafu, so it took a while for everyone to shuffle through.

Mirko tapped her foot impatiently. "What?" She snapped. Shigaraki was staring and her fuse was microscopically short.

He looked back at the ruined subway platform, then to the crippled henchman they'd all collectively left behind. "You're much… stronger… than I thought." He wheezed from behind that fucked up hand-mask he wore.

"I'm full of surprises, Shigaraki. Get used to it." Mirko marched her happy ass through the portal, with Nomu and Shigaraki taking up the rear. Kurogiri was the last one through.

Mirko squinted at her surroundings. The interior of the USJ was much brighter than she expected. It was pretty impressive actually, the sheer expanse of it. The absurd amount of money that UA had pumped into the development of this building. All to build a better hero.

The clash of combat drew her attention. This group of idiots that Giran threw together in such short notice was undisciplined and inexperienced. They weren't even trying to work together. That much became clear as she watched Eraser Head tearing through them like wet tissue paper. Eraser Head himself. He stood tall, facing down the crowd. One against many. Fearless. Rumi felt a rush of excitement, tempered by a measure of disappointment.

It wasn't often that you ran into your favorite hero. Your idol. Unfortunately, she happened to be on the wrong side of the line for this meeting. If only the situation were different. She fantasized – for only a moment – that she was a student, one stood atop that grand staircase, outfitted in that snazzy blue gym uniform, and surrounded by friends. Excited. Scared. Anxious. Watching her teacher thrash a group of trespassers on the third day of school.

"Oh man, t-that's a lot of villains. Do you think he'll be okay?" Izuku would say, torn between pure worry and pulling out a notebook to take notes. She'd be able to see that incredible brain of his working overtime to dissect every quirk he could identify despite the distance.

Rumi would shoot him a lopsided grin and give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's Eraser Head, he'll be fine. Just nerd out and it'll be over before you know it. 'sides, All Might's on his way, everything's gonna be fine."

But, as much as it hurt, that wasn't reality. It would do her no favors to pursue it further. She made her choice two, nearly three years ago.

Everything felt much more… real, now. Real, for lack of a better word. It was one thing to run around Kamino and beat the fear of god into people. But standing where she stood now, masquerading as a bona fide villain, and facing off with real licensed pros. It was a whole different beast. Part of her was afraid that this was the point of no return. That she'd be permanently stuck in this role as a villain after today. What if her face got plastered all over the media? What if some of these kids died here today. She doubted even Hawks with all his string pulling could save her from something like that.

"How pathetic. I can't believe I'm paying for these losers. Who even is this guy? It was just supposed to be Thirteen and All Might." Shigaraki was rapidly growing irritated. He scratched at his throat.

"He's Eraser Head. An undergrounder. Guess he's their homeroom teacher." Rumi glanced at her phone. One of the more competent goons sent a status update. "We own the communications and security systems now. They've been disconnected from the network. Doors are sealed. If All Might's not here, then what's the plan?"

Shigaraki growled under his breath. He looked like he wanted to start pacing, but he remained slouched in front of Nomu. Oddly enough, Kurogiri had remained silent thus far.

"We wait. All Might will show… or he won't. Either way, we'll strike a blow to hero society today. Win-win. Hmm… this Eraser Head is pretty cool. Shame. Nomu."

That great bulk of muscle made some ungodly whining noise deep in its chest at Shigaraki's command. It perked up, acting like it was alive for the first time since Rumi had seen him. It. Shigaraki pointed a long pale finger at Eraser Head.

Rumi's stomach plummeted. She'd be much happier never knowing what Nomu was capable of, especially since he was brought along as Shiggy's Anti-All Might ace in the hole. "Oi, what the hell are you doing?" She snapped. She didn't even need to feign irritation this time.

He turned to her, slowly, as he usually did when he was feeling particularly nasty. "Killing Eraser Head, what the fuck does it look like?" He taunted, echoing her earlier words.

"Like hell you are," She planted her fists on her hips and leaned in. She'd spent enough time around him to know when she was actually in danger of getting her face disintegrated. Shigaraki was desperate to succeed, to impress 'Teacher', and it showed. He was definitely on edge, but not so much as to start killing his allies out of annoyance. Mirko was also rapidly running out of fucks to give, both about her own safety and about maintaining her cover. "I haven't even gotten to take a crack at him! Why the fuck are you even paying me if you're just going to have Nomu smash all your problems."

As Shigaraki made various spluttering and choking noises under his mask, Kurogiri chimed in. "She has a point, Tomura Shigaraki. It would be best to hold Nomu in reserve, such that the Heroes learn as little as possible of his abilities before All Might's arrival."

"Fine. Whatever. Knock yourself out. Or better yet, let him knock you out." Shigaraki crossed his arms and pouted like an overruled child.

Petulant little bitch. Rumi smacked his shoulder, hard, savoring the way he staggered sideways. She loved being strong. "Thanks, Shiggy! Oi, 'Giri, how about a combo move? Can you move your portals after you form them?"

"Indeed, Rumi Usagiyama."

"Cool, make a small one and track Eraser." With a sawtooth grin, she added "Oh, and when we're working, call me Mirko."

Four long hops towards the back of the USJ gave her enough distance to get one hell of a running start. About halfway to Kurogiri's entrance portal she maxed her running speed. With a hop and a leap, she was through the portal.

She flew out of the exit portal faster than the average eye could track. Mirko's foot hammered the side of Eraser's head. A savage thrill raced up her spine when he hit the ground, limp as a corpse. It was a cheap shot, but damn, was it effective. Mirko landed in a neat crouch and stood fluidly. Power rolled off her in waves. "What the fuck are you lot standing around for? Get to your goddamn positions!" She thundered. The thugs scattered.

She'd taken special care to hit Eraser Head with the arch of her foot and not the steel toe-box. Killing him wasn't on the agenda. Well, it wasn't on her secret agenda at least. She listened carefully. He was breathing, and his heart was pounding away, but he was down for the count and that meant Nomu wasn't about to snap him like a twig.

Mirko stepped delicately over Eraser Head's body when something shiny caught her eye. His goggles. She'd kicked him so hard they flew off his head. "I really am sorry about all this Eraser." She scooped up the googles and turned them in her hands. They were heavier than she would have expected. "Were the situation different, I'd be hounding you for an autograph. Or a fair fight." With deliberate motion, she pulled the googles over her head, fixing the lenses over her eyes. Had to look cool after all. Smile! You're on camera.

She'd been right about quantity vs quality. Eraser Head was good. Really good but being really good just wasn't enough. He'd singlehandedly taken down about fifteen of Shigaraki's crew, but he'd lost a lot of ground during the fight, despite his aggressive opening. They'd pushed him back, almost to the foot of the grand staircase.

And so here Rumi – Mirko – stood. Glaring up the stairs at the huddle of greenhorn UA students, standing over their homeroom teacher and wearing his signature support item like a trophy. Settle down kids, class is officially in session. Welcome to Reality 101.