The pounding in his head should have been sign enough to go tell Shuzenji.

Headaches weren't exactly a new phenomenon with him. Long nights coupled with staring at a computer for at least three hours a day grading papers brought them on pretty often. His quirk was also known to bring on a thrumming ache through his forehead and temples every now and again. But he'd usually be able to feel the beginning thrums of one long before it came full force. Would be able to predict that it was going to be one of those nights, but this was different.

It had started just after the incident this morning. Problems such as this one weren't as common now, but they were taken seriously whenever they occurred.

He had had to go out to the front gates of UA to rescue Tokoyami from the prying eyes and voices of the typical hoard of reporters— people desperate to get any grain of information out of the kids. It was especially irritating now that UA was on the radar for everyone. One more slip up, no matter how small, and the school would be screwed. And these reporters knew that.

So obviously UA had implemented measures to keep their students as safe as possible, but that didn't mean the kid's weren't allowed to leave the campus at all. They just needed permission— and Tokoyami had requested to go to the store before class and was allowed.

Knowing all of this, it was especially surprising when, after shoving Tokoyami behind him and through the gate, Shouta had felt a strong grasp envelop his wrist. Nails biting into his skin. It wasn't painful, just surprising. The audacity, the mere thought that a reporter would not only corner a student but then grab a teacher had Shouta practically reeling.

But he kept his cool. Ripped his hand away and followed after Tokoyami to their classroom. Reporters. If there was anyone that had a running with villains on his 'most hated' list, it would have to be reporters.

Why can't they ever be on the casualty lists during villain attacks?

...What? Where did that come from—

"Aizawa-sensei, are you alright?"

Shouta most definitely does not flinch at the interruption in thought. No chance. Asui is staring at him, a small quirk to her brow. She's only a small distance away— a few feet, and he really should have been able to take notice of her standing there before she spoke up.

You're losing your touch.

The thought's invasive. Comes from nowhere, but somehow sounds like him...he shakes it away swiftly, "What are you doing over here?"

It's only the first period of the day, the sun shining brightly on the horizon. Dew sticks to every piece of metal in the feux city they're spending their class in. He has basically all day left to go, and the headache is thrumming with a vengeance everytime he speaks. It seems to get even worse every time somebody else speaks.

Asui studies him for a second longer, big eyes squinting, "You weren't answering when we were calling for you over the comms., so they sent me to find you. Ribbit."

They were calling for him? He didn't hear...anything. He must have been too enraptured with his thoughts. Too focused on his head pounding. But...it was like his hearing wasn't even working. He should've been able to hear something . They must have been calling for some time if they decided to send someone to find him.

And in the end, he wasn't even doing the task he had given himself in the lesson plans for the day. He was supposed to be out in the city trying to find his students as the training exercise, and what was he doing instead? Staring off into space in the middle of the street.

He really should have seen Shuzenji...if it was this serious as to inhibit his ability to focus.

It's his job as a teacher to be there for his students when they need him, "What happened?"

You failed them, again.

"We were trying to go through the duct work to avoid tripping any alarms. Ashido melted through the vent and hurt her leg when she fell through. Ribbit," she points over to one of the buildings they were training for reconnaissance excursions in. He had chosen five buildings from Ground Beta, each with their own tasks spread out across the city. To simulate sneaking into villain bases. Shouta was meant to be trying to find his students before they could complete the tasks…

He supposes Ashido's injury must be serious enough for Asui and her group to give up their grade and expose themselves to get help. After all, getting hurt during class wasn't exactly new . A flash of green and a teary smile passes through his brain.

So they decided to take care of Ashido instead of continuing...

He...can respect that.

Idiotic children, should have just left her behind.

What? Shouta shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stupid thoughts. Terrible thoughts. He's just...having an off day, Alright, who was in Asui and Ashido's group? Those two and...Iida, Todoroki, and Midoriya.

Troublesome kids. Won't ever make it as heroes.

A deep sigh leaves him. He gestures vaguely for Asui to lead the way.

The very moment he begins following Asui to their building, Shouta can see a speck of blue and white leaving the front doors. Ashido has her arms draped around Iida and Todoroki's necks, hopping on one foot— her other foot, for some reason, missing a shoe.

Her eyes grow wide when she spots him, and she gives him a vibrant wave in greeting, "Aizawa-sensei! I think I messed up my knee!"

Her shouts send uncomfortable vibrations through Shouta's head. He grimaces, dots dancing in his vision. If he has an obvious look of pain on his face, the kids don't notice it. Or at least don't speak up about it. Maybe they think it's related to irritation with them or something.

Wouldn't be the first time they disappointed you.

"Aizawa-sensei," Iida says, stiff posture and all, "We figured you'd rather us tend to our peer rather than continue with the exercise."

Shouta nods without really realizing it, rubbing a hand down the side of his face. He doesn't miss the curious glance Todoroki passes his way, or the way Ashido cocks her head to the side. He knows he's usually lethargic in class. He remembers their reactions to him that first day. But he knows that he's probably acting a...little off .

He thinks.

There's a sharp twinge that passes through his brow right as Todoroki and Iida come to a stop right in front of him. He can't hear it, but he can feel the grunt of surprise leave him.

"Are you alright, sensei?"

They're weak.

"You look a little pale. Ribbit."

He feels the blood leave his face. He's supposed to be contacting Recovery Girl and having her bots come and take Ashido away. He's supposed to be setting the rest of them up to complete the exercise, or lecturing them about something, even though he would prefer them getting someone to safety versus ensuring their grade. They are training to be heroes, after all, but…

He's not supposed to be the focus.

"—ida, go find Recovery Girl. Something's not—"

"Right! I'll be—"

Someone's hand touches his forearm. It's gentle and filled with hesitation. Like they expected him to burst into flames the moment their skin made contact with his.

Turns out, something similar seems to happen.

His head feels like it explodes. He can feel the raw feeling of a scream ripping from his throat a moment later. His heartbeat fills his senses, pulsating white streaks across his vision in rhythm with it. Everything else fades out. Silence and darkness and all.

His consciousness dims, but he's still able to feel the impact with the ground. How his head bounces off the concrete. He hears shouts of alarm that approach him and turn into a torrent of voices overlapping. He feels hands on him.

Hands.

Attacking you.

No.

You need to fight back.

They're not—

Fight. Back.

I—

Now.

He can only see shadows. The basic silhouettes of his students around him, but his body moves on it's own volition. He's standing, twisting around and the next thing he knows, he feels an impact on his right fist. Can feel something cut into the flesh of his knuckles and immediately recognizes it as teeth.

A shadow goes flying in a ball of misdirected fire, as if it was meant to defend him. Shot out from shock and surprise. A mistake. Too late to do any good.

He knows immediately who it is. Damnit!

What is happening? His body, he can feel everything. Feel his muscles twisting and exerting themselves. Can even feel his eyes rolling in their sockets as he uncontrollably looks around himself. He can feel his hair tickling the back of his neck and the weight of his goggles around his neck.

But he can't do anything. Can't force himself to stop moving. Can't even blink.

Someone's controlling him…

He's a weapon now…

His kids need to get away from him. Now.

They won't.

The screams around him get louder, but are too muffled to actually hear who they are. He knows though. He knows.

Their silhouettes step around him in a wide berth. One of them crouched on the ground a fair distance away, leveraging themselves. Like they were trying to escape.

Two horns sticking out of their head, a puffed stock of hair. Favoring one of their legs. It's Ashido. He can't see the details of her image but he knows. Can tell as she crawls on the ground along the brick wall several feet away from him. Trying to simply stay out of the way and get help.

Help to defend them from Shouta... God.

If he hurts any of them more than he already has...he doesn't know what he'll do.

Two of them are around him, standing. Arms out wide and stance moving back and forth— ready to move but not knowing where to. He recognizes the stance. From villain fights. Each time he's cornered a runaway and they were searching desperately for an out. A hint of fear and confusion.

This is entirely different, though. None of them were physically cornered, but to his students…

That didn't really matter. As far as they were concerned, well, Shouta was either in danger or a danger to others. And he knows his students well enough to know that they won't just back down if they're able to do anything about it.

These kids were going to be the end of him, he swears.

He only partially notes the feeling of his capture weapon loosening around his neck, flaring out in thick strands encircling him.

The quirk seems not quite like a mind control quirk but...similar to Shinsou's. Something forcing his subconscious to lash out regardless of what he truly wants. Regardless of how he feels about his actions. He can't stop himself. No matter how hard he tries to force his arm from lashing out he can't.

His capture weapon shoots forward. The silhouettes scatter.

He should have been able to see the signs of something going wrong. Should have been able to know what was happening. But what triggered this? He was around his students all class period and even before, and only now did it affect him.

Someone's hand touched his forearm.

Was that it? Someone— he thinks Asui based off of where she was in comparison to which arm was touched— had to physically touch him in order to activate the quirk? Like a start button?

It had to be. And if that's the case, it was one Hell of a day to choose to be particularly involved with training.

The only way he can see this situation not ending in complete disaster is if Iida and Asui somehow manage to contact the other students in Ground Beta, if they manage to get around him and make it to the main building— find teachers to help, or if someone manages to get the jump on him and either restrain or knock him out.

Whatever way, the more people they have the easier this will be for them. His quirk can't last in crowds, but one on one he has the advantage.

He sees someone jolt to his right, speeding towards him.

Get me, Shouta thinks— practically screams into his brain that just won't listen to him, Get me before I hurt any of you more than I already have .

They zoom past him, sending his hair flying up. He can feel the exact moment his erasure is activated. Can feel the pain in his eyes already. What had rushed past him has stopped— or slowed down. Running.

Iida.

He throws his capture weapon out, aiming for Iida's retreating form. He's probably running for help now. Good. Any of the other teachers will be able to handle this. Unlike All Might's quirk from back when he had it, he can't cause mass destruction with a flick of his finger. Kayama would be the best, or Cementoss— someone to incapacitate him.

Whatever this quirk is, whoever used it, they knew what weakness his Erasure gives other people. They know how to use it, like they studied him. Like they were familiar in some way.

"—zawa-sensei, stop—!"

Something wraps around his ankle, yanking him backward off of his feet. It'd be perfect— Asui's quirk is a mutation. Meaning, he can't erase it. Slamming him against the wall or the ground or basically anywhere, would do fine.

She doesn't. She doesn't. Of course she doesn't.

She releases him gently, and he goes tumbling to the concrete with a small grunt, rolling onto his feet a moment later.

The true weakness this mystery body-controlling quirk takes advantage of...is the opponent's lack of aggression. Their concern. Their kindness.

His kids won't attack him with their full strength.

They won't hurt him if they can help it...he knows it.

But his body doesn't share those same sympathies. He's forced to watch like a backseat driver, trapped and helpless against his own actions, as he throws his capture weapon out, snagging Asui from midair when she tries to dodge. Just as he thought she should do, he throws her into a wall with all his strength, and watches as her form crumples to the ground.

Damnit!

There's screaming somewhere behind him as he approaches Asui's fallen form. It's...emotional. A deep-in-the-chest kind of bellowing that makes Shouta feel like he needs to slink into a dark cave somewhere and never come out. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to get that sound out of his mind, even if it's hard to hear through the fog in his brain.

It's Ashido. He knows just because of logic. Because Todoroki is somewhere— possibly unconscious. Iida has run off to get help, no doubt. Asui is...down for the count.

And Ashido can't very much use her quirk...because like her peers, she doesn't want to harm him. And acid would eat away at his skin easily.

She should...because the alternative is…

Shouta feels the knife sheathed to his back get tugged and can feel the very moment his blood runs cold. Strands of consciousness tug at his body, fighting the influence. Ripping at the control. The knife raises anyways.

Shit! No, no, no, nononononono—

Green flashes in his eyes. From black and white silhouettes to that, he knows exactly what's happening when a thunderous, painful ache reverberates in his side as he goes flying down the street.

"What're doing!"

The voice pierces the constant ringing deafness he's fallen victim to, like the control has been shaken somewhat. His vision erupts into colors for a split second. He can see the blue sky, the dust in the air swirling in brown waves, the leftover green lightning dancing up the metal light pole he's been kicked into.

There's a freckled face and crouched form low down the street, a body behind him on the ground. His eyes are wide, sweat gleaming on his forehead, and a single boot— Ashido's, it looks like— clutched in his hand.

That's right...Midoriya was with their group. He hadn't thought twice about his absence when the rest of them had come outside. The kid must have been trying to find Ashido's boot...though Shouta finds himself drawing a blank on how exactly it must have been yanked off.

But he's...grateful. Eternally grateful to the kid.

But that power won't mean anything if—

"Mid—"

He pushes the partial name out right as the colors start fading back to dull blacks and greys. As his body starts rising from the ground once again, hand strangling the handle of the knife like a vice.

He wants to drop the thing. He can't.

Midoriya moves quickly. The kid gets right up in Shouta's face before he can feel Erasure activate, his hair rising from his scalp. The lightning stops streaming off of Midoriya, and the kid is immediately jumping around Shouta, jerking his body backwards when he swings his knife for his face. A thin line of blood appears in the air, a strip of skin missing from Midoriya's brow.

His own movements are uncoordinated attacks, Shouta realizes. Nothing that he'd do in a real fight. Of course he never used his knife in villain fights like this, anyways. He used it to cut his capture weapon if it got snagged on anything. That's about it, unless the situation got desperate. And it never really did. Not to that degree.

He isn't quite sure what happens. Only knows that the grey hues blend together before his eyes, a sharp pain in them as they're suddenly forced closed. Then there's two arms wrapped around his torso, forcing him backward off of his feet. The air whips past him, his own hands clawing at Midoriya's— who he's guessing is the one who has tackled him— uniform.

He falls backwards just as suddenly, the arms releasing him once they've hit the ground. His back skids across the ground, a slick surface beneath feet get under him and he side steps away.

They're definitely in a different setting. No longer outside. Someplace cool. Tiled floors that catch on his boots. Shouta's hands move without his will, rubbing at his eyes— something...something must have been thrown into them?

...smart...

Midoriya is talking.

Unlike earlier, the words don't meet him. It's just a garbled sound, like someone speaking underwater.

It doesn't matter in the end.

Him and Midoriya, based on the very little he can see once whatever is scraped away from his eyes, are completely alone. A building— looking like it's modeled after a bank— rows of lancasters between him and the kid. Support columns on either side of Shouta. A couch and coffee table near the entryway, right by where Midoriya stands at the ready.

Midoriya's smart...he knows this based on not only his test scores and placements, but because of how he reacts in battle. During the Sports Festival he had to use intuition more than his quirk. Something he gave up on during his and Todoroki's fight... but still.

He just hopes the kid is able to figure out how best to beat him.

A kid who relies heavily on his strength augmentation quirk not wanting to harm his opponent, against someone who can steal that quirk away and very much wants to kill, apparently...

The damn knife is still in his hand—

Erasure is activated only a moment before Shouta charges. He leaps off of a pillar, diving over the lancasters that had been strategically placed between them. Midoriya moves to find cover elsewhere, lunging away from where Shouta lands. The kid makes it halfway across the room, past the grated security gate blocking off the hallway no doubt leading to the bank's vault, before Shouta manages to catch him.

His capture weapon flies out, wrapping around Midoriya's arm tight enough Shouta feels the sickening feeling of dread that he's going to be responsible for another breakage of the thing. That's the last thing the kid needs.

Surprisingly, the kid grabs a handful of the cloth and pulls Shouta towards him. He somehow manages to make Shouta stumble, and ultimately takes advantage of it. Midoriya kicks something... the coffee table at Shouta, and his body dodges it in turn.

Wish it had hit me…

Then Midoriya books it for the security grating, grabbing hold of it and pulling it up. It's heavy, Shouta can tell by how Midoriya has to strain. Quirk or not, the kid is strong.

By the time he has it high enough, Shouta is sprinting over to him at full speed. He feels the burn in his thighs with every step. But, the kid squats down, pushes himself through the small space he opened. He slides on his stomach, and lets the grating fall back to the ground with a crash that makes it through the fog in Shouta's mind.

He sees Midoriya stop to glance at him for only a hesitating moment before twisting and running down the hall.

It clicks then. Understanding the layout of his bank— down that hall is the vault, and the kid is obviously trying to egg him on. Lure him away from the rest of the class until help can arrive. But that's not it...

He's luring him to the vault. To close him up inside of it for the time being. Wait until the teachers get there and fix the situation in some way. Shock seems to be the way of clearing his head for a few moments. A surprise of some sort. He'd seen color and heard sound return to him when he thought he was going to stab Asui, and it continued for a short moment after Midoriya kicked him. He was surprised. He was scared .

How his fellow teachers will figure out what to do with that, he doesn't know. But he'll probably be unconscious so he also doesn't care.

He's going to pull the grating up, squeeze his way through and chase the kid down, get locked into the vault and pray that the kid is able to get himself out of in time—

But...his body stops moving once he gets to the grating. Like... it's thinking...without him. Contemplating the situation. Strategizing. It sends a cold chill up Shouta's spine.

But it's not his body. It's whoever has taken control of him— using him like a pawn. It makes him sick.

He doesn't move to go through the grating. No, he instead grabs a hold of his unfurling capture weapon. It shoots out with a flick of his wrist, flies in between the grates, down the hall and promptly wraps itself around Midoriya's throat.

Shouta's ebbing panic comes back full blown.

Release him, release him!

The kid comes flying backwards, slamming into the grating with enough impact to knock the air form him. He gasps, sucking in nothing as his diaphragm spasms, but he's given no time to recover.

The capture weapon flies back through the grating on the opposite side of Midoriya and Shouta grabs the loose end. It locks the kid firmly to the metal of the grating, spasming and unable to figure out exactly what has happened.

Through the barest sounds of gasping breaking their way through his senses, Shouta is only able to focus on his own body. Wrapping the capture weapon around his hands a few times, as if for grip. Erasure still burning in his eyes, locked onto Midoriya's slightly hunched form. The knife is now laying abandoned by his foot.

His boot slams into the grating behind Midoriya's back enough to jolt the teen. And then, with as much raw strength as Shouta thinks he has, his arms pull back. Midoriya's head flies backward, mouth wide open in a muted yelp as he's pressed into the grating by the cloth wrapped around his throat. His curly hair trembles from between the metal.

Strangling him, they're strangling him. No. No, stop it.

They didn't even let him catch his breath.

"They"? Well, it sure as fuck isn't him doing this. It's someone else. Someone sick and cruel. Someone who he is going to find and break if they don't let him stop—

Midoriya's hands are flailing, grappling with the grating to either side of him, trying to lift the gate as if that would help. It slams against the floor repeatedly. And Shouta's body just yanks harder, using his whole body to pull and puuuuull.

Even when Midoriya's hands grapple with the scarf bound around his throat or try to snake their way through the grating to grab Shouta, the pulling doesn't cease.

Color comes back to him, as if his eyes were widening at the horrific act going on in front of his eyes. Making everything clearer and making the gasping and mueling whimpers escaping the writhing kid in front of him even more nauseating.

Stop it! Enough! He can't breath! Enough!

No.

Who the Hell are you?

Midoriya's hair and costume explode from the dull grey hues to the vibrant greens they're meant to be. And his face which was almost white in his previously grey toned vision is now tinged purple. The little of his face Shouta can see shows a bloodshot eye rolling up into the kid's head. Teeth bared. Nails scratching into his own neck to try and relieve the pressure.

Nevermind, I don't care who you are. You've better stop this. Now!

No.

His body pulls harder even still. Shouta is forced, with no way to help, and God does he want to help, to watch as Midoriya's knees grow weak. Collapsing under him. He stays up out of the strength pulling against his throat, though. The useless legs twitching as if they were still struggling to relieve the agony of Midoriya's weight on his own neck. His arms fall to his sides, fingers convulsing spasmodically.

"Aaaagh—aaaizzugh...gaawa...s-s-seeeennssei!"

It's meant to be yelled, based off of the tone. But it's only a weak mumble. A breath. One the kid should be keeping instead of wasting trying to reach out to him, his hand once again reaching through the metal grating behind him. And it's also a violent reminder that his student is watching Shouta choking the life out of him with the same capture scarf he wears every day to class and in their dorms. Everywhere.

The kid had even been fascinated with how it works before, looking at it with eyes that were practically sparkling. Asking how it worked and how Shouta chose to use it in battle. Why he wore it everywhere he went. He had seemed so intrigued by a support item and...

Now—

"G-guuughk…" Midoriya's mouth is splayed wide open, teeth bared, sucking in small gasps of air. As much as he can manage...basically none. They're wheezes. Crackling noises that sound wet and pained.

Something gross and hideous erupts from the kid's throat, an agonizing sound of distress. It gets cut off halfway as Shouta's body yanks the capture weapon even further. No air passes his lips then. At all.

You're killing him!

Not yet.

Who is speaking to him? They're the ones doing this to Midoriya. They're the ones harming him, trying to kill him, torturing him. Forcing this suffering onto him. He needs to know. He needs to know, because once this is all over he's going to hunt them down and make sure they regret this. He's going to wrap his own hands around their throat and make sure they know exactly what they put this child through—

Shouta's body bundles the two lengths of the scarf into one hand, bending down to pick something up off the floor—

The glint of a knife was the last thing Shouta wanted to ever see again. Especially now. God , no.

Midoriya is boneless against the grating, fingers still twitching against it as if he'd somehow get a burst of his power and blow everything away— free himself, get away from Shouta, maybe even knock Shouta out. Save himself from the darkness no doubt overtaking him.

But he can't, because Shouta hasn't blinked once since they've gotten inside this bank. The burning in his eyes can attest to that.

"It was smart thinking, running in here," Shouta says, but... no. Not him. It's his body speaking words that isn't his. They're words that are whoever's been stuck in Shouta's head all morning. They're talking to his student. As if they haven't done terrible things already, they're taunting his student as they're torturing him with Shouta's own body and he just—

"But you couldn't escape me even if you tried," his body continues, winding the binding cloth in his hands as the distance between him and Midoriya lessens— keeping it as tight as possible the entire time, "You didn't have the skill to do anything. You were practically helpless. Useless. In every way. It's pathetic."

Shouta feels heat. A burning in his face. The type that makes him feel like exploding and taking everyone with him. The feeling he had during the press briefing he was forced to attend, when they began badmouthing Bakugou right in front of him after the training camp. When he was already captured and being held against his will.

The feeling he gets whenever a villain even looks at one of his kids. And this one is taunting on top of everything else, beating this kid down even after he's already been beaten.

That feeling is there in full force, festering under his skin.

The knife…

His body grips it tightly, positioning himself right behind Midoriya's unassuming and still struggling form, he lifts the knife away from himself, angling it towards the kid's limp body. His back. Where his spine and his kidneys are. He can't—

No! No, no, no, no, no! Don't—

"This is probably the best thing for everyone, really. Getting rid of you."

Don't! Stop it! Stop! Please!

The knife plunges, sparks against the grating, and embeds its entire length deep into Midoriya's lower back with a squelch and a single spurt of blood.

"GAaaaCK! GnnnnnnAHH!"

The little air Midoriya was able to hold is pushed from his lungs and forced through his now very much mutilated throat. He makes several attempted gasps and partial screams but settles for rhythmic congested keening noises. Sounds that are long and that crackle at the end of them.

Stabbed. God, he's just been stabbed by his own teacher...

God damnit! Fine! Fine, you did it, you hurt a hurt him. He's done. He's done! Now just stop all this, okay? Let me go, right now! He needs help, immediately or—

He's not even going to finish that thought, because the blood leaking down to his hand still clutching the blade's handle is such a macabre sight and feeling that he just—

Meet Shuzenji halfway, they'd be able to get Midoriya to help faster. He'd scoop the kid up and book it out of Ground Beta, hoping that nobody assumes that he's still under some sort of mind control. He wouldn't blame them if they did. He'd congratulate them for putting him out of his misery, but only after — only after he gets to Recovery Girl. Only then.

Listen. I don't know who you are, but you don't want this blood on your hands. He can still get help. He—

Lightning fast, the knife is ripped out and plunged back into Midoriya's back. A few inches from the original wound, closer to the spine— higher up. Midoriya's whole body shutters,

It takes a long moment, hearing the sharp and gargled exhale from his student sending the message home. Of what just happened. Again.

You bastard! I'm going to kill you when I find you. I swear I'm going to—

There's a maddening laugh that echoes in his head, Not very heroic.

The screaming in his head almost bleeds out the softer scream that escapes Midoriya this time. Weaker. Something whispered into the air almost unable to be heard.

"G-gnnnnnaaaaa…"

Midoriya's hands are no longer struggling against the grating. His head, despite being practically plastered to the grating is lolling sideways. No more sharp gasps. Just small keens. A few jerks of his body every couple seconds.

I want him to die, Aizawa, knowing you did it.

That's—

I know...so, how about a third time just to be sure? Yeah?

Shouta's blood runs cold as his uncontrollable hand twists the handle of the knife that's nestled and sheathed in Midoriya's kidney, preparing to pull it free. The kid shutters only a little.

I swear to f—

The doors to the bank slam open. The sound echoes in the quietness of the bank. Shouta turns away from his helpless student thank God—

Then he's completely deafened. Not by this mind control quirk, but by the eardrum obliterating quirk of Hizashi— Present Mic. He can physically feel his eardrums pop, feel warmth leaking from them that drips down his jawline. His body is forced backwards by the strength of the sound waves, stumbling over to one of the main support pillars.

Hizashi isn't holding back. Probably startled by the sight in front of him. Probably realizing what is happening in the worst way possible. Shouta couldn't be happier.

His capture weapon is still in his hands, and so the growing distance between himself and Midoriya isn't helping. It's making it worse. But the fact that Midoriya doesn't even flail sends alarm bells ringing in his head. They need someone who can cut the thing, someone who—

The sound waves stop for only a second. More people flood into the bank, someone running past Mic before the sound hero starts back up, keeping Shouta planted on the pillar with nowhere else to go. He's trying to look at Mic. Shouta can tell, but the shock of getting hit full-blast by Hizashi's quirk has disoriented him enough to prevent it from happening.

"Get rid of his capture scarf!" someone...Cementos yells from behind Mic. Concrete walls erupt from the ground on all sides save for the one between him and Hizashi and between him and Midoriya. That's why he's able to get a full view of someone running towards him.

Golden hair and a black suit— those are the only details Shouta sees before his world begins going back to grey hues. How All Might's piercing blue eyes—connected to a dispowered body and a hollow face—glances from him, to the capture weapon, over to where Midoriya still hangs. He can see the stiffness that takes over the man, can picture him zeroing in on the knife in their kid's back. Literally. Blood pooling onto the floor beneath him as he's held up by his neck.

Anger and fear flash in Yagi's eyes as he reaches down and grabs a hold of the binding cloth tethering Shouta to Midoriya's throat. He doesn't even pass Shouta a glance as he pulls a great length out of Shouta's hand and towards Midoriya. The kid slides to the ground behind All Might, legs folding up beneath him. Without another moment of hesitation, the retired man grows to his full hero height, rips the cloth in two like it were printer paper, and shrinks back down with a hacking cough.

Shouta doesn't get to watch them untie the cloth from Midoriya's neck, or prepare him for Shuzenji. He isn't able to, because suddenly Cementoss erects another large wall separating him from Midoriya and Yagi. Blocking his view of the kid. His kid, one of them that he's supposed to watch over and protect. The same kid he had told on multiple occasions to be careful. The kid who always greets him in the morning with a notebook in front of him and a blinding smile. The kid who looked excited this morning at the prospect of Shouta participating in the training exercise with them.

He should be happy, and he is— overjoyed. Relief flooding his every sense, but there's something dark that squirms in his stomach at the idea of them thinking he'd run back over and continue his assault on the poor kid.

That dark thing squirms deeper still at the nagging thought that...he probably would.

Something sweet fills the air, Hizashi stops screaming, Shouta's mind warbles into darkness as he lists sideways and smacks into the floor. His capture scarf is strewn around him in large coils, hair in his eyes and mouth. Blood leaking down his chin from his ears. He can see more people run past Hizashi to behind the wall blocking his view of Midoriya, each of them rushed.

Hizashi hesitates, glancing over to where everyone else has gone— where Shouta can't see. He instead runs to Shouta, barely able to be seen through his darkening vision.

He'll never forgive himself for this.