-This is made by Starrshard on Ao3 and Wattpad, please check them out. I have been given permission to upload this to, as they do not have an account on this website-

Mashirao could only stare in stunned horror.

Tenya's crumpled, stiff body continued to run a river of pink on the floor, the spears and blades still sunk in his bleeding flesh. Nobody dared move, nor make a sound. It was still all too surreal for most of the students to even register.

Silence. The whirling technology was the only source of noise in the room.

Then she spoke.

"He's... he's really dead, isn't he?" Yaomomo's voice trembled, and when Mashirao turned to meet her eyes, they were watery orbs of gray, the tears threatening to spill and trigger a waterfall.

They were filled with despair.

Despair.

It's what the villains want.

Mashirao felt a stab of sorrow pierce his heart. It's the opposite of what Tenya would've wanted.

Fumikage suddenly stepped forward. He slowly crouched down, avoiding the pooling blood, and placed two gloved fingers on Tenya's blood-splashed wrist, followed by his neck.

"He's dead. He's truly dead."

Fumikage's voice was, for the most part, steady. Mashirao felt his throat constrict, and a tear ran down his cheek.

Tenya...

The best we can do now is honor him and his wishes... to not forget him.

"G-guys... " Mashirao decided to speak up. His voice cracked, and he swallowed down the knot in his throat. He wiped a tear off of his face. "To fight, to be heroes... That's what Tenya wanted. We should honor that. We can't just give in to the villains and despair!"

For a moment, everyone just stared at him, their eyes wide pools of monotone colors. When his words registered to them, Mashirao watched with relief as the thick cloud of despair that had been hanging over the groups' heads dissipated.

"You're right, Mashirao," Yaomomo murmured. "That is what he would've liked."

"Shall we get to work, then?" Fumikage asked from his spot hovering over Tenya.

"But- but it's not like we can just leave him here, right?" Izuku spluttered.

"We'll be taking care of that," Shigaraki suddenly spoke up over the overhead speakers.

"Leave him to the mercy of the villains?!" Ochako suddenly cried. Mashirao turned to face her. Tears were streaming down her face, and her entire body was trembling. "How could we do that?"

"I'm afraid it's the only choice," Mashirao murmured. He didn't want to leave Tenya here, leaving the villains to do as they pleased with him, but it wasn't as if they could do a burial, being trapped inside of U.A.. Cremation could be possible, but it could get sloppy, since Mashirao was pretty sure nobody here was the Ultimate Cremationist. Nobody wanted anything less than perfect for their deceased friend, either.

"I'll stand guard," Katsuki suddenly volunteered. For once in his life, Mashirao saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes, underneath a crimson mask of confidence. "If the villains try anything fishy, I'll rip their heads off their shoulders!"

He tried to sound angry, but his voice shuddered, betraying that even the boldest, most ignorant and headstrong member of the class had been deterred. That was what scared Mashirao the most; that the villains were winning, playing them like puppets.

He couldn't let that happen.

"I'll stay with him," Eijirou volunteered. He seemed shaken as well. "You guys try to find an escape. Surely we overlooked something during the previous look-around. Anything interesting, take note of it. We can meet up at the cafeteria at twelve."

With everything going on, Mashirao forgot completely about the time. Looking up at the clock on the wall, it read 9:16.

"That's a plan," Yaomomo replied softly. "Come on, guys. Let's split up into groups and investigate."

Within a couple minutes, Mashirao, Yaomomo, and Tsuyu managed to organize a rough bunch of groups. Mashirao was with Tooru, Mezou, Kouji, and Rikidou. Yaomomo had suggested they check out the base floor, specifically the front door and windows with Hitoshi's group. After a couple of last words, everyone headed off.

Mashirao headed down the stairs, flanked by Tooru and Kouji. Tooru's steps were light and jumpy, expressing her nervousness, while Kouji darted alongside Mashirao, as if he were his shadow and saw him as a comfort source.

If that's what Mashirao could do for his classmates, then he would do it.

"Hey..." Tooru suddenly said in a small voice. "Mashirao?"

"Mmh?"

"I was wondering... what did the villains show you on the DVD?" Tooru's wide, magenta eyes gazed into Mashirao's, and in that moment, she seemed so vulnerable, seeking for any small source of distraction, that he just wanted to hold her and promise her she'd be safe.

"My family," Mashirao murmured. "My Ma and Pa... and my cat, too. Her name's Yuki." A flash of ice jolted down his spine as he remembered the scene of his parents in chains, and his beloved Scottish Fold cat huddled in a cage, her muscles tense and golden-brown eyes wide with fear. "She's almost like a daughter to me, if that makes any sense."

Tooru nodded, her expression warm once more. "It must be nice, to have somebody you can count on to not judge you or anything."

"Yeah, it is. What did you see, Tooru?"

"Well... I saw my mother and father, and my two brothers. I think their Quirks were erased, too. I didn't even recognize my father and one of my brothers for a moment." Tooru shuddered. "It's terrifying, isn't it? How we're all just here at the mercy of the League?"

Mashirao stopped at the side of the landing, letting the others flood past him. He placed his hands on Tooru's shoulders. "We'll be alright, okay? I promise you that. We'll all get out of here. Nobody else will die."

Tooru stared, her eyes blank, up at Mashirao for a moment. Then she gave a small sniffle.

"You're such a good friend, Mashirao!" She suddenly surged forward, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest in a tight embrace. Mashirao wasn't sure what to think for a moment, before returning the gesture by draping his arms around Tooru.

They stayed like that for a couple seconds before Tooru awkwardly pulled back. "Uh, sorry 'bout that."

"It's fine," Mashirao chuckled. "Come on, we're being left behind."

As Mashirao and Tooru approached the massive iron doors, rejoining the group, Mei turned to face them. "Ah, our lovebirds are back." Despite the amused words, her sad demeanor drowned them out. Her voice lacked its usual flair, instead being dull with grief, and her eyes were misty, as if she were lost in thought. I wonder what her inventor's mind is thinking up now. "Anyways, now that we're all here, let's work on this gate," she continued.

Mashirao inspected the various screws and the gate-frame, while Mezou, Rikidou, and Kouji attempted to yank on the door at every imaginable angle in an attempt to force it open. As Mashirao attempted to twist the screws, he sensed the presence of someone at his shoulder. As he looked up, he found his eyes locked in hazy indigo ones.

"Hitoshi," Mashirao nodded in acknowledgement before returning to his work. It'd been a few months since Hitoshi had apologized for brainwashing him at the Sports Festival, but their interactions had been awkward ever since, considering Mashirao didn't have a reason to provoke him every time they met. At least the hostile air between them had cleared.

"How... are you?" Mashirao asked hesitantly, breaking the tense silence without looking up. "You know, with everything going on..."

"It's... alarming, I could say," Hitoshi slowly replied. He absently ran his finger over a screw next to Mashirao's arm.

The tailed ex-hero turned to look at Hitoshi. The violette was tracing the indentations and bumps in the screws and metal bars, his motions detached and slow. His eyes were clouded, as if he were staring at something on the gate-frame that nobody else could see.

He looks... well, sad isn't exactly the right word. Distant? Lonely? Fearful?

Despairing?

"Anything else?" Mashirao pressed. Over the past months he had to admit he'd been interested in befriending Hitoshi. The violette was rather intriguing, so to say. He wondered what he was like once his walls were down; most people surprised you once you got past your own perception of them. Now, seeing him look so lost, Mashirao couldn't help but want to learn about it and comfort him in some way.

Hitoshi tilted his head to meet Mashirao's dark chestnut eyes. His gaze was vacant, fixed once more on something he couldn't reach. "Why would you ask?"

"Because-" Mashirao caught himself, unsure of what to say. You look sad? I'm worried about you? You seem lost? None of the direct wordings would've sounded right, and Mashirao wasn't about to cut the small thread of an understanding between them. "Because- well, maybe the right way to put it is: are you really... okay?"

Hitoshi blinked slowly, then let out a sigh. "You overthink too much. I'm fine."

"You sure aren't acting 'fine'," Mashirao retorted before softening. "But I guess I won't press."

The two continued examining the doorframe in silence. After a couple minutes, neither one of them managed to budge a single screw, bolt, or latch, not even the tiniest bit. Mezou's trio didn't get anything done, either.

The two initial large groups rejoined for a brief discussion. Yuga didn't find anything abnormal in the library, while Mei and Tooru only found a large stack of the principal's paperwork and a variety of books in his office. Mei stated that the papers might betray some interesting details they could later use.

Hitoshi let out a small sigh as Mei concluded her overview of the files and everyone reaffirmed that there was no especially important information or possibilities of escape. "I suppose that's it, then. Hopefully the other groups found something."

Mashirao felt a pang of worry sprouting in his chest. For Hitoshi, of all people, to just give up that easily? The Hitoshi I thought I knew would've stopped at nothing for victory.

I do wonder what he saw in that video...

What could they have shown him that was so despair-inducing?

What did they show all of us?

Izuku hauled himself over the counter of one of the cafeteria serving stations, glancing around. The small area was brightly lit by the white lights overhead, and outside, he could hear Ochako's shuffling footsteps and the shutting of the door as Tsuyu exited the room to join Shouto in the kitchen. None of the familiarity of his surroundings gave him an ounce of comfort.

Tenya's death still hung, raw and fresh, in the front of his mind. Every thought of his friend brought tears to his eyes. Every corner he turned, he half-expected to see a villain looming over him, or a barrage of spears, or the corpse of one of his friends limp on the ground, bleeding their life out on the floor. He felt so uptight, so fearful, so in despair.

Mashirao was right; Tenya would not have wanted his friends to grieve so much they were unable to operate and get out of this slice of hell. But Izuku could barely think without being overcome with emotion and tears. After all, Tsuyu had just barely managed to comfort him enough to stop sobbing on their way down the hall.

And now, alone in a corner of the cafeteria, Izuku curled up in a ball on the floor and let his tears flow silently down his face, falling down onto his black vest, the sleeves of his white dress shirt already splattered from wiping them away earlier.

He already missed Tenya. His friend, his class president, his comrade in battle, yet also his partial rival. He was always looking out for his friends, taking care of them as if they were his family. He could be such a motivation, even if it was in the wrong way.

He was like the heart of the class, the trunk to the branches and leaves and fruit. Tenya was a light, guiding them through troubled waters. He was so strong, his desire to be a hero so bold, so bright.

And he was dead. In one flurry of spears, one flash of blades, he was gone. Forever. Izuku wished he were here, telling everyone it'd be okay, that they should thoroughly explore the building, make a plan, fight back and not despair. To rescue the hostages, get reinforcements, defeat the villains, no matter how long it took.

To give his daily reminder that Izuku must live every day to the fullest, to work hard and save his friends, his class, and to be a hero... Oh, what Izuku wouldn't give to just talk to him one more time before he vanished for good.

Through the messed up jumble of thoughts about Tenya and death and worrying about his other friends, Izuku felt a light thud directly above him. He whirled to his feet, crouching in a defensive position on the floor, ready to leap up and deliver a punch to his attacker's face.

Fortunately, it was only Ochako. Izuku quickly relaxed as his emerald eyes met his friend's mocha ones. "Ochako," he murmured, gazing at the brunette leaning against the countertop.

Izuku's relief was short-lived as he took in Ochako's hollow expression once again. She wore an air of fear, its dark tendrils wrapped around her like an aura. He had never seen her so afraid before. Not at USJ, and not even when she confided in him about her guilt over Nighteye's death. No, her appearance was one of a person who'd just seen the devil, followed by their friend's gruesome death.

Now, Ochako stared sadly at Izuku, her hazy eyes taking in how much of an emotional mess he was. He personally didn't like the sorrowful frown on her face. It didn't suit her. "Deku, are you alright?"

Izuku sniffed. "I'm fine," he stated softly, wiping the tears off his face. "No, I should be asking that question. Are you okay, Ochako?" Tell me you aren't.

"I'm okay," Ochako murmured. "I'm okay, I'm okay..." Her voice trailed off as she repeated the phrase over and over, as if trying to convince herself that she was.

"You're clearly not," Izuku replied softly. He approached her from behind the counter and rested his scarred hand over hers. "What did they show you?" he asked in a whisper.

"It's not your concern," Ochako retorted, pulling her hand back.

"It'll be better if you confide in someone," Izuku pushed himself onto the counter and dropped down to the other side, so that he stood right next to her. "Did they show you your family?"

Ochako lowered her head so that her hair shadowed her face. She gave the smallest nod as a reply, her hands clenching into fists over her bosom. "My mom and dad... imprisoned, taken captive. I couldn't stand it... I'm a hero, I'm supposed to be selfless and brave and save people. And I couldn't even save my own parents." She gave a weak smile, lifting her face so that Izuku was trapped in her teary, chocolate eyes. "Tell me, Deku, what hero can't even protect their own family?!"

Izuku blinked at her, her words ringing in his ears. He let out a soft breath. "Ochako," he began. "It's not your fault. We all just got taken prisoner, had our quirks removed, and our friend killed in the span of twenty-four hours. We never could've had a chance to save our families. We were at the dorms, then imprisoned in the school by the villains. Nobody could've saved them, okay?"

Ochako nodded, wiping the tears out of one of her eyes with her hand. Izuku took both of her hands in his own. They were softer than his, her fingers intertwining with his calloused ones, the soft pink pads that once contained her quirk's magic brushing his palm.

"Even the strongest heroes sometimes fail. Don't blame yourself over it." Izuku released her hands and leaned forward to wrap his arms around Ochako's torso, pulling her into a hug. "We'll be okay, alright? Help will come, or we'll find an escape route. Nobody else will die. We'll all be okay."

And yet, feeling Ochako tremble in his arms, her tears slipping onto his shoulders and neck, he couldn't help but doubt his own words.

Nobody else will die...

...right?