Upon finally returning to U.A., Akiko's spirits remained abnormally high. Even though she'd spent her three-day weekend largely isolated from the friends she'd made at school, her weekend hadn't been spent in turmoil. Without her parents breathing down her neck in suspicion of some foul play, her free time had been spent in a surprising amount of productivity. Akiko capitalized on the opportunity she'd been given, diligently studying ahead of her classmates, reading some books she had almost forgotten she owned recently, and engaging in various other literature-related pursuits until the sun dipped below the horizon each day. She'd then slide under her comforter with her phone in hand and text Jomei until she drifted off to sleep.

Or at least, that's what she normally would've done. Normally, Jomei's texts would've been worded so carefully that Akiko could practically hear his voice through them; recently though, his responses were lacking the vibrance she'd come to expect. That lifelessness in his responses was why, after two straight nights of that lacking liveliness, Akiko took the initiative and called Jomei directly.

Unfortunately, he deflected the issue perfectly. Jomei excused his seeming disinterest as merely another side-effect of lingering fatigue from Recovery Girl's healing, and since Akiko didn't desire to force the issue any further, the conversation ended almost immediately after that explanation. Akiko wasn't convinced, though, and reminded herself to keep a watchful eye on him when they returned to school. Only when they saw each other again could she hopefully discern what had impacted Jomei's behavior so greatly.

When she finally did reach U.A., though, Jomei wasn't anywhere in sight. When she texted him, the message he returned was little more than an enigmatic excuse.

"I'll probably be late. Don't worry about me."

Concerned about her boyfriend's well-being but successfully fighting the urge to send another message, Akiko proceeded inside U.A.'s main building by herself. Before she reached their homeroom and her friends there greeted her, Akiko kept herself sane with the simple reminder that Jomei wouldn't simply skip school outright because of some fatigue. They'd be together again sometime soon, at which point she could better figure out how to broach the subject of his recent uncharacteristic behavior.

Then she reached their homeroom.

An eruption of excitement and eager conversations marked such a sudden change of atmosphere that it all almost gave Akiko whiplash. Luckily, Denki and Kyoka were already present, and their friendly smiles grounded her, and she gravitated toward them. But it wasn't long after they exchanged hellos and extremely abbreviated recaps of their internships (with the promise of discussing more later) that she pulled out her notebook and found herself absentmindedly doodling a chibified version of Jomei. Despite how borderline standoffish Jomei had been lately, she couldn't help smiling slightly at the silly expression she drew on his face.

"Holy crap, what the heck, Bakugo!?" Sero cackled, interrupting Akiko's reverie.

Akiko followed his lanky arm, pointing at the door. 'Oh.'

Bakugo's hair had been completely restyled. His normally explosive locks had been tamed into a pristinely combed-back, split hairstyle almost identical to Best Jeanist's – who'd coincidentally been the hero Bakugo had interned under the previous week.

"Stop laughing," Bakugo ordered, clearly making a conscious effort to withhold his fury if the pained expression on his face was any indication. "My hair's gotten used to this dumbass style and I can't get it back the right way! Did you not hear me? I'll kill you!"

"I'd like to see you try, pretty boy!" Kirishima teased, suddenly infected with laughter himself.

"What did you call me!?" Bakugo shouted. His hair quite literally exploded back into its familiarly uncontrollable form, and Kirishima and Sero's laughter grew even louder.

"There it goes!"

When Bakugo started stalking toward them, Akiko's attention was drawn to another nearby conversation.

"Awesome! You got to face real villains!? I'm super jealous!" Ashido exclaimed.

"Well, I didn't really do that much fighting," Kyoka explained, twirling one of her earphone jacks around her finger. "Death Arms usually used me for evacuations and logistical support whenever we ran into trouble. The most combat I ever saw was stunning some villains who were already busy with one of his sidekicks."

"Still! That sounds like so much fun!" Ashido insisted, flailing her arms through the air while Kyoka meandered back toward her other friends.

"I spent basically my whole internship training and cleaning Selkie's ship deck, though there was that one time we caught a bunch of drug smugglers," Tsuyu recalled.

"No way!" Ashido stressed.

"Mhm, that's the truth," Tsuyu asserted. "But what about you, Ochaco? How'd your week go?"

"I'd say that it was very… enlightening," Uraraka responded, her eyes unfocused but her posture perfect as she absentmindedly executed a series of punches into thin air.

"Looks like she's found her fighting spirit, ribbit," Tsuyu observed.

"All this after one week, too… I know she interned under Gunhead, and he's the Battle Hero, but still…" Ojiro approached Uraraka, warily walking around her as though she were possessed by some demonic spirit whose combat skills he desired to study. "This degree of instinctive combat ability typically takes weeks or even months of constant practice to acquire. It's impressive that she learned it all so quickly."

"Don't be fooled, Ojiro," Mineta advised, his whole body shaking while he nervously chewed on his nails. "All women are really demons at heart. They just hide their true personalities behind pretty faces to lure you in…"

Ojiro raised a brow. "What did Mt. Lady even do to you?"

Then again, Akiko's consciousness drifted in another direction. This time, familiar voices helped guide her eyes and ears in the direction of individuals whose conversation she might've naturally become involved with while it progressed.

"Okay, listen," Denki started, pointing at Kyoka as she slowly descended into her seat beside him. "I didn't even get to see what the daily life of an on-patrol hero's like, but my internship was still super freakin' awesome! Shinobi trained me the entire time with nonlethal weapons after we figured out what I'd pick up the fastest. And wanna know the best part?"

"What?" Kyoka asked. "Did you gorge yourselves on oden or something?"

"No! That was something we ate after training sometimes, sure, but that isn't the point!" Denki gripped his fists eagerly before himself. "Shinobi gave me these rounded tonfa that can literally transform into a bo staff whenever! It's awesome!"

Akiko blinked in surprise. "You got a souvenir?"

"Kinda?" Denki uneasily responded. "Those transforming tonfa are mine to keep now, sure, but they're basically another stepping stone that I'll have to overcome, too. Shinobi made sure I left with plenty of instruction books and training menus that'll help me master my weapons and my body since he can't train me one-on-one anymore."

"What if your weapons get damaged?" Akiko asked. "Wouldn't the support company that made your costume in the first place need to approve you upgrading your gear without their help?"

"Don't worry! Shinobi and I cleared all that up before our internship was over," Denki said with a smile. "But speaking of support stuff… don't think that I'll just ignore the support course forever. I might've gotten some cool melee gear, but it's not like that makes up for my lack of ranged attacks. I'm actually thinking about asking the support course to make me something that'll let me shoot my Electrification accurately over some distance."

"Oh, so you've finally decided to upgrade your costume with something it should've included from the start, huh?" Kyoka teased, making a flippant gesture with her earphone jacks. "Nice, but I think almost everyone else here's way ahead of you on that."

Denki growled. "Hey, I'm not the only one who's been slacking off on costume upgrades, alright? Everyone's costumes are mostly the same as when we got 'em! If anything, my costume's gone through some huge changes already compared to everyone else!" He pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Besides, haven't you ignored upgrading your gear too?"

Akiko rocked her head from side to side. "Denki does have a point…"

"Yeah, I guess he does…" Kyoka mumbled. "You win this one, Denki."

"Alright!" Denki cheered. "But what about your internship? What was it like with Death Arms?"

Kyoka smirked. "Honestly? It was pretty metal. Death Arms' sidekicks were everywhere around his patrol area, so there wasn't even one day where we didn't fight alongside at least one of them whenever there was action. Villains weren't everywhere, but there were way more than enough to keep us busy whenever we were out and about… which was practically all the time. We must have beat down dozens of villains in our first five days together before things even started to slow down."

"Sounds busy," Denki said. "Must've been right up your alley, though."

"Oh, it was," Kyoka confirmed. "Adrenaline must've been pumping nonstop, we were running around so much. If I learned anything about myself during that internship, it was that I've gotta work more on my stamina. With how tired I was after Death Arms was finally done with me, I almost slept through my alarm twice."

"That kinda sucks, but hey!" Denki threw two thumbs up at her. "Now you have something you know you've gotta work on, just like me. Just you wait, give it some time and we'll be basically completely different fighters. Villains won't know what hit 'em once we hit the streets again!"

"It sounds like everyone's internships have changed them somehow," Akiko said. She smiled subconsciously, recent memories of Dawnbreaker's life-changing advice about her crystal core coming to mind.

"Totally! But you wanna know who really changed?" Denki jabbed one of his thumbs over his shoulder. "It's those three right over there."

Rather unexpectedly, most conversations ended with that last comment. Following Denki's finger to the center of the room, Akiko's eyes widened at the sight of Iida, Midoriya, and Todoroki's, but their faces betrayed no reactions to the extra attention on them.

"Oh yeah, the hero killer!" Sero said.

"The hero killer?" Akiko looked back at her friends, confused. "They didn't run into that villain all by themselves, did they? The Hero Killer: Stain has a higher hero body count than anyone in recent history!"

"Wait, you didn't know?" Kyoka asked.

"No… I didn't." Akiko said, subconsciously pushing her hair behind her ear. "Whatever happened, Dawnbreaker's internship generally kept us too busy to keep up with the news everywhere else."

"Long story short, those three were attacked by the hero killer!" Denki exclaimed. "All their pro mentors took them to Hosu City, but then something crazy happened – the League of Villains let out three more of those crazy Nomu things they had at the USJ! Midoriya, Iida, and Todoroki got separated from their mentors, and that's when they got attacked."

"Fortunately, Endeavor was also there," Shoji added. "Reports state that only moments after he neutralized the multi-powered Nomu, he immediately searched through the city for Todoroki."

"I always knew Endeavor was strong, but…" Akiko shook her head. "Did Endeavor really take down three Nomu and Stain all by himself? It took All Might almost everything he had just to defeat one, right?"

Kyoka nodded. "Yeah, but the three that Endeavor dealt with were groupies compared to how strong the one All Might fought was. They had multiple powers, but everyone says that they weren't too much of an issue for him. If they were, he probably wouldn't have had enough left in him to take down the hero killer too, you know?"

"Right…" Akiko paused. "Sorry. This is really intense, hearing about all that."

"When I first heard about the Hosu City attack, honestly, I was pretty surprised too," Shoji said to the trio. "I'm glad you returned safely."

"Same here," Yaoyorozu concurred. "It isn't every day that you hear your peers were targeted by the Hero Killer: Stain. Even after the USJ incident, I was rather worried for your safety, too."

"You were lucky Endeavor showed up and saved you guys!" Sato exclaimed.

"So cool!" Hagakure fawned. "As expected of the number two hero."

"Yeah. That's right…" Todoroki stared at his desk. "He saved us."

"Did you guys hear the news about the hero killer, though?" Ojiro asked. "With the Nomu attack and the hero killer arriving in Hosu City happening around the same time, almost everyone's been saying that he must've been connected to the League of Villains. Can you imagine how scary it would've been if that creep was there during the USJ attack? It would've been crazy."

"No arguments there," Denki agreed. "He's scary, yeah, but did you see him in that super weird video? It's all over the internet right now."

"There's a video about the hero killer out there?" Akiko asked. "I didn't know that."

"Mhm! Stain's a super evil villain, but really tenacious!" Denki said, with an expression of borderline admiration. "Almost kinda cool, dontcha think?"

"Kaminari!?" Midoriya fretted.

"Oh, shit!" Denki apologetically clapped his hands together immediately, looking over in Iida's direction. "I'm sorry, dude. I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's quite alright," Iida dismissed, though his attention lingered upon the bandages hidden beneath his uniform's sleeves. "While his villainous actions have effectively crippled my older brother and permanently damaged my arm, his incredibly tenacious nature is undeniable. It's understandable that some people might think he was cool, but instead of helping the world, his beliefs led him to cold-blooded murder. No matter his motives, killing cannot be condoned. On that note…"

Iida abruptly straightened and lifted his arm, his characteristic choppy mannerisms making their triumphant return as he slipped back into his role as class rep, but the familiar motions then stopped almost before they had begun. His bespectacled gaze drew toward the door, Akiko followed his line of sight, and the room suddenly fell silent.

"Oh. Nishimura, there you are," Iida observed.

'Jomei…'

Taking advantage of the temporary lull in activity to give him a brief once-over, Akiko recognized that Jomei looked distinctly different. For the most part, he was dressed the same as always, but his uniform's right sleeve had been rolled up and underneath his dress shirt was a long black sleeve over his right arm that hid his new scar. Akiko knew better than to question this change in his wardrobe while everyone else was around, nor the fatigued look on his face.

With all eyes on him, Jomei responded with a tired wave. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, man!" Denki greeted. "I was wondering where you were! Come on down, we were just talking about all our internships."

"Oh. Cool…" Jomei trailed off.

Ignoring the odd looks of his classmates, Jomei slowly maneuvered his way through the room and to his seat. Iida stealthily glanced between Akiko and Jomei, but didn't allow his apparent confusion to bleed into his tone.

"Forgive me if I'm misinformed, but from my understanding, you both experienced your own encounter with a serial killer too, yes?" Iida asked.

"Is that what happened?" Kyoka asked, wide-eyed. "There was an article online that mentioned you guys, but it didn't say you two had direct involvement with the fight. What went down back there?"

Akiko turned toward her partner, who'd been bringing out his own notebook while the others had been speaking. Jomei's eyes almost hesitantly rose to meet hers, and he provided her a simple shrug of approval. They wouldn't hide what'd happened during their internship together from their classmates, it seemed.

"You weren't misinformed, Iida," Akiko began. "Dawnbreaker decided that it'd probably be in our best interest that we understood how investigations can work when you're a hero, so she had us shadow her starting on our second day. It took a few days, but we eventually found the killer the police were looking for. Akuma Alpha was his name. Alpha was… well, he was something else. Did the article show any pictures of him?"

Sero made an uneasy noise. "Not really. Just his face, but even that made him look kinda scary. You guys were actually in a fight with him?"

"Um?" Akiko started. "Yeah. We were supporting Dawnbreaker from range until Alpha actually managed to hit her head-on. From there, it was just Jomei and me fighting for time, and… well, eventually I wound up unconscious. Jomei had to fight him one-on-one, but… Dawnbreaker did come back in time to save us! Alpha's imprisoned now. Obviously…"

"Whoa…" Kirishima said, only for his expression to wind up in a toothy smile a moment later. "But hey! Even though it sounds like he gave you three a really rough time, you still managed to take him down! Against someone who could hold their own up against full-fledged pros, that's gotta take some real guts."

"The article didn't really mention anything about his motives, though," Midoriya commented thoughtfully. "Everyone knows that the hero killer wanted to 'purge unworthy heroes' from society, but… what did that Alpha guy even want?"

Denki opened his mouth before Akiko could formulate her response. "There's heroes everywhere these days! Nobody in their right mind would think that they could get away with literal murder forever. He's just insane, no doubt about it."

"Denki? I…" Akiko exhaled softly through her nose. "I don't think that's the case."

"Wait, really?" Denki said quickly.

"Really," Akiko insisted. "Alpha wasn't like your everyday villain. It seemed like he sincerely believed he wouldn't ever be brought to justice; like he was strong enough to escape punishment for his killing forever. And he believed in his motive wholeheartedly."

"You have more experience with him than any of us," Yaoyorozu observed. "Any ideas?"

"Some," Akiko admitted. "Alpha was obsessed with strength. When he spoke about his Quirk, Ebony Flesh, he said that it 'endowed its user with the right to exist' because of how powerful the organic armor and weapons it lets him create are, but that's not everything. I remember that he also said that 'those whose powers are unfit for the world of the future must be culled,' which pretty much confirms that he values strength above all else. Since none of his victims possessed strong Quirks themselves, I'm thinking that the society Alpha wanted to make would be one where everybody has powerful abilities."

"In his own barbaric way, he might've thought of himself as doing humanity a service," Todoroki thoughtfully observed. Sighing, he closed his eyes. "Admiration of strength is one thing, but that much value being placed on people having powerful Quirks is extremely dangerous."

"Definitely," Midoriya confirmed.

Yaoyorozu hummed. "Without a doubt, Takara and Todoroki's interpretations of the situation are sound, but there's still something that bothers me. This obsession with arbitrary-defined 'better' and 'worse' Quirks is something that's almost entirely exclusive to schoolyard bullying. Not all that many villains usually pursue that vein of ideology for that very reason."

"Then there's gotta be some beats that we're missing here, right?" Kyoka asked. "I don't know what wavelength you're on right now, but Alpha doesn't sound like the kinda guy who'd decide to become an outright villain just because of some junior high bullying."

Bakugo turned his glare away from the chalkboard, giving them a sidelong look. "Tch. Alright, lemme spell it out for you brainiacs, then. That article had a statement from Nishimura's hero mentor, Sunsmasher-"

"Dawnbreaker," Jomei corrected, though his tone lacked any significant edge.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. "Dawnbreaker, whatever. When the press finally got their hands on her for a public statement, she said the villain mentioned something about a 'culling,' and little miss mood stone over there just said the same thing. It's no coincidence that they remembered that little detail about what he said, in particular, which means that it's pretty damn important if anyone wants to understand what motivated him."

"Whoa, Bakugo, you actually chipped into the conversation," Kirishima remarked. "That's kinda surprising, man."

"What, did you think I spent my entire internship getting my damn hair done?!" Bakugo spat, scowling. "Anyone who wants to become a Pro Hero should pay close attention whenever the news mentions shit like this."

"But Alpha's in police custody now, so there's almost nothing to worry about!" Denki reasoned, confidently throwing his arms behind his head.

"Not true."

Now that caught everyone's attention all over again.

"What do you mean, Akiko?" Kyoka asked. "Didn't you say that guy's been shoved into some solid steel jail cell by now? What gives?"

"It'd make sense that the article didn't mention this, but…" Akiko paused, temporarily hesitant to finish her sentence. "Alpha isn't alone. He has two brothers that he's triplets with."

An unsettled murmur rippled throughout Class 1-A like a wave, with the danger that these newfound 'Akuma triplets' might pose to society steadily becoming recognized by everyone over time. Akiko didn't need telepathy to discern that her peers were likely coming to the same conclusion she had shortly after she regained consciousness those short few days ago. Even with one of their number out of action, it was nearly impossible that this single encounter would be the last everyone heard of the Akuma triplets' heinous crimes. While the League of Villains probably possessed superior resources and an apparently enormous stockpile of Nomu at their disposal, the Akuma triplets still possessed the advantage of anonymity on their side. Since some of the most dangerous villains in history were those who waited until the time was right to strike, no sane hero-in-training could dare discard the threat that the remaining triplets posed to their society.

"Those determined villains who know nothing of the terms 'surrender' or 'defeat' are the most dangerous variety," Tokoyami mentioned, bowing his head. "Those same villains also often find themselves ensnared in an endless cycle of their own creation. Their anger will intensify their hatred, their hatred will lead them down the path of vengeance, and that pursuit of vengeance is almost guaranteed to inflict suffering upon everyone who opposes their nefarious goals. Alas, this might not be the last we hear of those three criminals. Not while their all-too-mysterious ideology still persists."

"Indeed," Iida agreed. "What worries me about these villainous triplets is exactly in their designation. Their numbers enable them freedom of movement throughout the seedy underbelly of society, and unlike our encounter with the hero killer, this crisis is still far from resolved. If the remaining pair are of the vengeful sort, what Nishimura, Takara, and Dawnbreaker just did may have placed them on their priority list." He placed his hands on his hips and sighed. "To imagine that there are still high-caliber criminals out there that can take on two trainees and a distinctly talented pro and nearly triumph nonetheless… the imminent threat of villainy's siege on society really is increasing. Not good."

"Hey, what's with all the hum-glum attitude, guys?" Kirishima asked, arms open wide. "Stain, Alpha, the League of Villains? They're all super scary and big-time threats to society, yeah, but every time they've shown their ugly faces, Class 1-A and heroes like Endeavor and Dawnbreaker have beat them back! They haven't won yet!"

Denki suddenly stood from his seat. "Yeah, Kirishima's right, and y'know what? If another one of those Akuma triplet villains ever comes along wanting to fight you guys, they'll have to deal with me first! That's a promise!

"Right there with you man!" Kirishima hooked his fist through the air, earning small smiles from his peers. "Those bad guys won't even know what hit 'em!"

"Y'know what?" Kyoka's lip turned into another reserved smile, and she casually raised her hand in another gesture of solidarity. "Protecting others is exactly the kinda stuff heroes are expected to do daily. If this whole jam means those two lovebirds will stay safe, count me in, too."

Akiko smiled warmly. Denki, Kirishima, and Kyoka lacked any firsthand understanding of just how capable Alpha was when embroiled in intense battle, but it was their willingness alone that meant more than Akiko could currently find the words to describe. Even Jomei's persistently distant demeanor lightened into a softer expression that lasted just long enough for Akiko to notice before it slowly faded from sight.

"Are you guys done yet?"

Dozens of eyes darted to the corner of the room.

"Aizawa-sensei!?" Uraraka exclaimed. "How long have you been there?"

"Since our discussion about Akuma Alpha began," Tokoyami answered.

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Nobody asked."

"Whatever." Unzipping his sleeping bag, Aizawa rose from his plush grave back to his feet and stepped before the podium. "There'll be more time to discuss your internships with everyone later, but for now, let me say this. While it'd be illogical for anyone to reprimand their students for their possession of comradery, I'll carefully advise you to remember that you're all still students. Hopefully, these crises involving the League and other independent villains will be resolved before they ever affect any of you. While you're still trainees, leave the hero work to the pros, alright?"

"Yes, Aizawa-sensei."

"Alright," Aizawa said. "Now, with that out of the way, we'll be covering pages…"

Thankful for her foresight in reading ahead over the weekend, Akiko temporarily tuned her teacher's voice out. Now, with ample opportunity for her to focus her attention elsewhere, her gaze landed upon Jomei, who seemed more inclined to simply stare at his notebook than actually write anything down. Given that Jomei would always attempt to at least feign interest amid their classes, it didn't take Akiko long to decide upon her next course of action.

"Jomei," she whispered.

Trepidatiously, his eyes lifted toward hers.

"What's wrong? You aren't acting like yourself," Akiko said.

His hands clenched into fists, though his mouth remained sealed. Akiko's shoulders slouched worriedly while she helplessly watched Jomei's expression become increasingly guilt-ridden and downcast each successive second.

"No matter what's bothering you, please, just talk to me," Akiko pleaded. "Was it something that I did-"

"No," Jomei hastily interrupted. "It isn't you, at all. I'm fine, alright? Don't worry about me."

When he returned his attention to his notebook, Akiko felt stunned, shut-out, and more worried than before. Jomei might've wanted her to believe that everything was 'fine,' but she knew her boyfriend well enough to understand that absolutely nothing was fine with him right now.

Beneath his silent exterior, Jomei's subconscious was absolutely screaming for help. Akiko was more than willing to provide, but the sorrowful truth was that she'd remain powerless for as long as Jomei consistently skirted around whatever problems plagued him these days. Every fiber of her being wished for little more than the opportunity to support him the same way he always had, but Jomei would have to open up first before she could fulfill that role.

Akiko prayed that time would come before she'd have lost him forever.

Amongst other things, the hero killer's unknown relationship to the League of Villains brought the villain back into the limelight of classroom conversation several more times before Class 1-A was eventually released from their lectures for the evening. Rather predictably, each discussion about the villain would invariably turn to focus on the warped justice his radical ideology urged him to pursue; consequently, these same conversations caused Jomei to begin feeling like garbage all over again. Not that he'd ever stopped feeling that way beforehand, of course, but now the self-disgust he felt was more pronounced than it had ever been while he was isolated within his room. Pathetic as it was to admit…

Stain was completely right.

Such was the 'sound' conclusion that Jomei achieved after several hours of listening to the hero killer's rhetoric being discussed, anyways. The fundamental question that Stain's ideology would logically lead people to ask was also rather easily answered. What was an outstanding Pro Hero supposed to look like?

Simple. All Might. Charismatic, selfless, courageous, powerful, willful, charitable, and so much more – those were the traits the ideal hero would persevere to epitomize. Japan's Symbol of Peace had already been doing exactly that through his actions for far longer than Jomei had been alive, but by comparison… what was he?

Jomei didn't like the answers that came to mind. All Might was essentially the very concept of heroism given human form, and Jomei wouldn't dare to compare himself. He was some sixteen-year-old who only chose heroism as his future career because he wished for fame to be bestowed upon him as the result of being a Pro Hero who protected those who couldn't protect themselves. In essence, he was using the people he was sworn to protect as the means to achieve his own ends. Strictly defined… the exact antithesis of heroism.

And then, when he'd found himself in a situation where he needed to protect the person closest to him, he'd let his anger and weakness stand in his way. If he'd never been so focused on fame, he might never have pursued a hero career and might never have been in that situation to let everyone down.

Compared against the Symbol of Peace himself, entirely selfish goals were what had driven him. No argument could even dream of convincing him otherwise. That same selfishness nearly killed both his girlfriend and his mentor. Every last ounce of the crippling pain and pulse-pounding terror that befell everyone in that alleyway was entirely Jomei's fault. No reassurances he'd heard from anyone thus far had been enough to convince him otherwise.

Those conclusions weren't pleasant. Especially not when his girlfriend was walking right next to him, who he only now realized he'd been atrociously distant to for their entire school day and the greater portion of their walk home. While they both continued forward, he also concluded that he needed to rectify that. Above anyone else, Akikodeserved an explanation for his recent shift in behavior.

"Akiko?" he said.

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

Before he could even realize what was going on, Akiko grabbed his hand, and their slow progress along the sidewalk came to a complete stop. Against his instincts, Jomei's hand remained completely lifeless within her grasp. Even though he knew he'd started whatever conversation was about to happen, some part of his conscience argued he didn't deserve such affections after his failures against Alpha.

"For what?" Akiko asked.

"...everything."

"Jomei, you aren't making any sense," Akiko said worriedly. "Where's all this coming from?"

"Akiko… listen, after our internship, I've been thinking about myself," he explained. "While we didn't see each other over the weekend and I was alone at home, I… couldn't help but compare myself to you, and… I realized some things."

"What things?" Akiko pressed.

"That your reason for wanting to become a hero makes you better than me," Jomei answered defeatedly. "You've always wanted to help people, and that's all you ever wanted out of getting your hero license. I'm the one who's selfish, because any damned hero who cares more about fame first and the people they're supposed to protect second isn't worth the name. Not when wanting to be famous turns everyone they save into tools that are just there to help make them more popular." Daringly, he glanced into her eyes. "What kind of hero does that make me? What kind of person does that make me?"

Akiko's response was calm and softly reassuring. "It makes you human."

Immediately, his throat tightened at the simple kindness in her voice and he glanced away.

"And that's an excuse?" he stressed suddenly, meeting her eyes again, a newfound urgency in his voice. "You nearly got killed because of me. Because I couldn't protect you when it mattered most, when you'd just protected me. I became a hero to be famous and, I don't know, I guess I thought that'd it'd be smooth sailing. Then there I was, not strong enough, so angry I couldn't even think straight anymore. I'm the reason we were hurt. Why you were hurt."

"Jomei, no one's blaming you," Akiko argued.

Unsteadily shaking his head and suddenly feeling even more stressed, he snatched his hand away. "I know, I know! But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you did nearly die in the first place. If Alpha's attack hit anywhere other than your crystal core you would've been gone, and there'd be no saving you!"

Akiko's eyes widened with hurt, and she opened her mouth but he cut her off before she could speak.

"While I've always wanted to become a hero just for some stupid goddamn fame, you've been fighting for all the right reasons!" Jomei insisted, like he needed her to agree with how flawed he was; like it would somehow make him feel better. His words tumbled out with desperation, and his hands ran roughly through his hair. "When you were knocked unconscious in that alleyway, I couldn't stop thinking about what was about to happen. After Alpha was captured, I couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened. I've been afraid to close my eyes ever since we fought him and can't get it out of my head! I don't know what to do!"

In the aftermath of his speech, with his gaze fixed only on the sidewalk, Jomei felt empty. His unsteady breathing felt deafening in the silence and now, after he'd cut her off so many times, he wished Akiko would say something. With how disgusted in himself Jomei had felt the past few days, he probably wouldn't have blamed her if she just walked away.

Yet she remained beside him.

"This has been weighing on your mind for a while now," Akiko finally said. "I just didn't realize how bad things were until now. I apologize for that, but…"

Slowly, he forced his gaze upward again.

"Out of everyone, you would know that I don't expect anyone who wants to become a hero to be completely selfless," she gently reminded. "People are people, and it's not somehow wrong for anyone to desire things that only benefit themselves. Honestly, I'm not even sure that the hero killer would give me a pass with how unhinged everyone's made him sound. Don't beat yourself up about what happened. We're all here. Alive with a chance to learn and get better. That's what matters."

"Yeah, but…" Jomei choked, water welling up behind his eyes again. He firmly clutched his scarred right arm through its sleeve. "We're supposed to be partners… right? We're supposed to look out for each other, but… I wasn't even strong enough to protect you when it mattered the most."

"Well…" Akiko stepped closer, taking his hand again. This time, Jomei intertwined their fingers first. "From where I'm standing, you wouldn't have had to shoulder that burden alone if I'd been strong enough not to get knocked out. It's because we're partners that no matter what happens, we will endure it together. No matter what."

"I don't deserve you," he said.

"No, you do," Akiko argued, glancing at his arm. "And scars like those are only there to remind you that you're still here. That you lived. The past doesn't decide who you'll always be, only who you once were. It doesn't have absolute control over you. Not unless you give it that power."

With those words, Jomei's fingers slipped beneath the edges of his black sleeve, though fear threatened to prevent him from doing exactly what was necessary before he could hopefully overcome himself. One deep inhale and another tender look from his partner later, and Jomei removed the fabric from his skin. Somehow, Akiko didn't flinch when her gaze landed upon his once-hidden scar, and she even smiled. The sleeve fluttered away with the springtime breeze and Jomei didn't look back.

In the next second, he threw himself into a desperate embrace and held onto Akiko like she was his only lifeline, his face buried in her shoulder.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. It wasn't until he opened his bloodshot eyes again did Jomei recognize that the sunset had truly begun in earnest, though he didn't yet remove himself from their mutual embrace. Not until Akiko's recognized his recovery and her hand's gentle up-and-down motion along his back petered out did Jomei even consider the possibility that they would become separated once again.

Yet his arms were the ones that loosened first.

"Akiko?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Akiko gently squeezed him one last time. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Jomei whispered. "Didn't mean to keep you this long, though."

"Don't worry about it," Akiko said. "It's not like my parents are even home right now, so there's no chance they'll be mad about me coming home late. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." Jomei rubbed his eyes and smiled. "You gave me everything I needed. I think… I think I'll be alright."

"Good," Akiko murmured. "Glad to hear that."

"See you tomorrow, then?" Jomei asked.

"Definitely."

But only after another hug and more smiles did either of them move. Hardly halfway through Akiko pulling back though, she crashed directly into his chest again. Her arms wrapped around his back, and she stood on her tiptoes to whisper words into his ear Jomei didn't even know he needed at that moment.

"I love you," Akiko said.

"...I love you too," Jomei breathed back, hugging her tighter.

Before they could pull away from each other again, Akiko reached up and stole a soft kiss on his cheek. Later, he'd kick himself, but he couldn't help freezing completely. His reaction must have managed to make her self-conscious, as when she pulled back and gave him an all-too-clear look at her magenta crystal core and blushing cheeks, he pushed his shocked body to move again. He couldn't let her think she'd done something he didn't want.

Before she could walk away, embarrassed when she didn't need to be, he pulled her close once again and kissed her softly and chastely against her cheek, his lips barely grazing the corner of the slight smile forming on her face.

It lasted only a second, but when he saw her blushing now for an entirely different reason, he couldn't help but blush himself.

"Um," Akiko squeaked, touching her fingertips against her cheek. "I'll… see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, um…" Jomei managed. "Tomorrow."

She almost scurried away, but Jomei stood rooted to the spot, watching her leave. His hand touched his own cheek where her lips had grazed, and he couldn't help but break into a grin.

For the first time in forever, he felt whole.

Second only to the megalithic capital city of Tokyo itself, Yokohama City was the most densely populated urban sprawl across the country. The sheer number of individuals who referred to the city as their home necessitated that a substantial number of the nation's heroes patrol the area night and day, though this approach to the minimization of crime was double-edged. While the plentiful Pro Heroes on the streets maintained the peace through defeating those petty criminals too dumb to properly strategize, the elite villains who lurked in the shadows used the heroes' sense of superiority to their advantage. Many would hide in plain sight, gathering information through rumor and secretive meetings that took place in the locales heroes would often overlook, and even taking up permanent residence in the same old apartment buildings the heroes hardly ever noticed.

Within one of these innumerable brick buildings, an individual leaned back into his office chair and inspected his surroundings.

Given his profession, they were understandably quaint. His refuge from the outside world was small, marginally run-down, but suitably hospitable to sustain human life without the risk of disease or discovery by the authorities. The apartment's main room served as a study, living room, and kitchen all at once, while the place's bedroom and connected bathroom were located furthest away from the makeshift study area. Within that space, its tenant steepled his fingers together while his gaze scanned the latest location he'd taken residence within.

It occurred to him that the past few days had provided him much in terms of insight into society's current state of affairs, perhaps even more than he would've been able to glean himself without arousing any suspicion. In times such as these, he'd often make an effort to transcribe his inner thoughts onto paper for posterity's sake. Without any further unproductive procrastination, his hand slipped inside his ornate purple robe and retrieved his preferred pen from within its interior breast pocket.

Swiveling around to again face his desk, he flipped open his leather-bound journal and exhaled slowly. "No time like the present, then."

Imminent Change:

Recent times have indicated that the media's current obsessions lie almost entirely with the Hero Killer: Stain. Given that his confirmed kill count of heroes lies near the dozens and his number of victims forced into an early retirement numbers even higher than that, it's therefore somewhat understandable that his actions would be studied under far greater scrutiny than many other active villains in contemporary society. Admittedly, that freshly imprisoned hero killer might very well be one of the most impactful ideologues of this generation, whose ideals might gain traction comparable to those the metahuman liberation fanatics of yesteryear possessed. Speculation about the man abounds these days, since many assume that Stain's appearance in Hosu City and the arrival of three Nomu there simultaneously couldn't have been coincidence. My more personal insights regarding that incident shall be catalogued soon.

Indeed, it would be incredibly asinine to declare Stain as nothing more than another murderer, destined only to die destitute and disowned by the very society his misguided soul sought to improve upon. No, he's much more than that. He's an icon.

Hardly an entire afternoon passed after his unexpected capture by Endeavor before proof of that aforementioned assertion manifested through the internet. Heroes might find the viral video chronicling Stain's history as another aspiring pro who became disillusioned with heroism's modern incarnation being completely corrupted and perverted from its idealistic origins disturbing. Our kind, those who avoid daylight like some wretched disease, have most assuredly accepted something of an utterly electrifying variety. Since its initial upload, the government has worked tirelessly to destroy any evidence of the video's existence, though between re-uploads and the traction the original video obtained, their efforts were made catastrophically slowly. The damage has already been done, and hero society now has no other option but to deal with whatever fallout results from the documentary's popularity.

This same popularity has already made waves within the underground community, and not one major player worth their yen isn't paying very close attention. Heroes have no clue what's awakening across their nation. Through that single video, the nefarious forces that were once quiet and scattered have now been provided a rallying cry that's calling their names. Individuals now seek out the organization that Stain appeared to have been inexplicably connected to.

The League of Villains.

It's perhaps somewhat cliché, but even one such as myself can't proclaim miraculous immunity to that desire. Those abominations, the 'Nomu' that were unleashed onto Hosu like multi-powered shock troopers and delivered untold devastation onto the hapless citizens of the city… those were what caught my eye. If the League of Villains truly possesses the means through which to create entities that can utilize multiple Quirks… then they might indeed already be the most worthwhile villainous organization around that I should perhaps pursue good relations with. Why?

Simple. They exhibit the most potential research opportunity on the precious Quirk Singularity than any other would-be criminal syndicate that's ever contacted me previously with desire for my potential recruitment. Their capability to create Nomu, presumably, fundamentally requires that either their members or hypothetical beneficiaries be well-aware of the inevitable next step in human evolution. An ugly truth though it might be, it's been well-understood for years now that the combination of too many Quirks within a single body would simply cause the organic matter within which it was being stored to rapidly decay. The League of Villains' Nomu might've been rendered seemingly brainless lobotomites, but the monsters' combat efficiency seems incredibly less than impaired by their mental faculties' effective annihilation.

Unquestionably… the Quirk Singularity is everything. The acceleration of humanity's steady progression toward that inexorable eventuality is, presently, my family's sole purpose. In truth, there are many, many things – what society would call atrocities – that I'd willingly do myself if it brought me closer to understanding how we could bring about our goals in any meaningful capacity.

Not that our family is unerringly whole, recently. My more brutish brother's unexpected capture has thrown a rather worrisome wrench into things where our family's pursuits are concerned, but not all is lost. We three are equally tenacious and strong-willed, and there remains plentiful hope that we shall be reunited again someday. Until that day comes, however, there is much that needs careful consideration regarding my plans for the future.

The man lifted his pen from the page and methodically rose from his seat. Shortly after straightening his robes, he walked straight toward the only window his second-story sanctuary contained. Analytical eyes then surveyed the outside world from within his refuge, leaving him with the same sensation of utter abhorrence he'd come to associate with the completely stagnant world below. Nestled closely against the breasts of the society he'd unfortunately been born into were innumerable parasites and plentiful other undesirables unfit for survival after any massive social upheavals, let alone the perfected world order he'd sought to help bring about for years, now. They were insignificant specks by themselves, but an unmistakably harmful cancer that seemed vehemently determined to thwart humanity from achieving perfection through their totality's mere existence.

Someone knocked upon his door, earning a single-worded response.

"Enter."

He turned from the window as Giran entered his line of sight.

Giran was… an interesting individual. An unsuspectingly simple-looking middle-aged man of moderate height, slight build, and notably squinted-looking pink eyes that didn't even hint at the man's unsavory profession, nor did almost anything else about his appearance. His short gray hair alongside his small mustache, goatee, and the large gap between his front teeth didn't help him in the threatening department, either. The only thing that could arguably be interpreted as marginally 'villainous' about his appearance was his fluffy intestine-like scarf, but his purple businesswear, circular glasses, and cheesy tube-like golden necklace prevented any such intimidation from coming across from that article of clothing.

Yet despite that, Giran was the incredibly well-known operating name of the underworld's most elusive villain-material suppliers on the planet. Coincidentally, Giran was also the same man who provided him with unrestricted access to this small sanctuary in exchange for his services. Pushing the door shut, Giran raised a brown paper bag in casual greeting.

"Good to see you aren't dead, friend," Giran joked.

"Hilarious," the man deadpanned.

Giran sniggered. "Now, now, don't get your robes all twisted. Figured someone here'd have to break the ice between us eventually, right?"

"Your visitations here haven't been infrequent, Giran. Your implication of animosity within our relationship also falters underneath even inconsiderable scrutiny."

"Yeah, yeah…" Giran dismissed. Progressing deeper inside, the underworld broker lowered himself into an old leather seat situated within the living room. "Y'know, whenever we speak face-to-face, you always make me wonder if there's any room inside that super-serious brain of yours for life's simpler pleasures. Intelligence is an outstandingly attractive trait to possess when you're living this kinda life, sure, but I'd still be kinda careful. Dunno about you, friend, but I'd rather not miss out on all those finer things that life can provide, y'know?"

"I'll manage. What brings you here?" he asked. "Business, I assume?"

"Always straight to the point, eh?" Giran sighed with feigned disappointment. "I'll get there eventually, G-Man, but first…"

His tenant, 'G-Man,' didn't allow his facial features to betray his marginal annoyance. Giran's insistence on sometimes using such loathsome nicknames rather than his clients' actual names was annoying but tolerable, and he supposed that name was as good as any of the many others the world knew him by. With muted curiosity, he carefully watched the criminal broker unpack expensive wine and cigars from the paper bag.

"Okay, now," Giran cracked his knuckles. "It's not every day that my clients get to pick their preferred poison, but today's the exception. Wine? Cigars? Pick one, or hell, pick both if you think you'd appreciate 'em. Tonight, they're on the house."

"Appreciation being purchased through fine gifts is common practice among certain underground societies. Insofar as my experience with you has been concerned, you've not intrinsically woven yourself into any such criminal clique." G-Man descended carefully onto the center cushion of his living room's well-worn couch, eyes narrowing suspiciously at his lackadaisical landlord. "While tempting, I refuse these gifts outright."

Giran's breath punched from his lips. "What, a man can't treat his friend?"

"Information brokers never deal with gifts. Everything comes with costs. If there's something you wish to trade with me for, you needn't dance around the issue. Business has been conducted between us previously, without frivolous pleasantries such as those you've brought being woven into the negotiations."

"Smart," Giran said. He retrieved a cigarette from his breast pocket and held it halfway between them. "Wanna gimme a light?"

His associate rolled his eyes.

"Heh." Giran pulled out his realistically revolver-shaped lighter from inside his jacket, lighting the cigarette before continuing. "Yeah… all this mighta been the prelude to business. Depending on how these negotiations play out, it might even be pretty serious business, too."

"Might be?"

"Might be," Giran echoed. "You understand my caution. Any big bad broker like myself wouldn't be caught dead disclosing private information before we're sure the deal's a sure thing, y'know? Saves us from being given the good ol' Sicilian necktie or Glasgow smile by the bigger, badder players upstairs."

G-Man grumbled disapprovingly. "Giran. Deflection carries conversation nowhere, we're both intelligent enough to maintain awareness of this truth, yes?"

"We are," Giran confirmed.

"Then speak your mind," G-Man demanded. "My patience for these various verbal games wears thinner by the moment. There's no reason we should heighten this location's chances of discovery through an unproductive social call masquerading as something meaningful."

Giran exhaled smoke through his nostrils. "Didja know that those Nomu that attacked Hosu City before weren't completely unique? They're artificially engineered humans."

"My suspicions are confirmed, then." G-Man crossed his arms, satisfied that their conversation had finally achieved meaningful progress. "While video coverage of those three creatures' attack against the city was difficult to make out, their uniformly simple behavior, possession of multiple powers, and commonly exposed telencephalon implicated their origins as rather unnatural monstrosities. From those observations alone, such hypotheses about their fundamental nature aren't meaningfully difficult to achieve."

"Ohhh, so you're interested in those creepy corpsey things?" Giran smirked, taking another slow drag from his cigarette. "Now that's something I never woulda guessed."

"Hm. Your intentions through this visitation were the acquisition of my continued services, I take it?" G-Man insightfully suggested. "You acquire my unique talents for the foreseeable future via little more than the provision of additional information regarding them over time. Rather smartly maneuvered, Giran. Well done."

"Barely missed the mark there, G-Man," Giran stressed. "Y'see, the problem with that little theory there is that it's terribly lopsided against your interests, since all that useful information might mean jack shit unless you've got the resources available to make it useful. Your proposal sounds like I'd essentially be turning you into an unfairly indentured employee, all for information that you couldn't even confirm. That ain't my style, y'know. In fact, I wouldn't have even hinted that I'm in the know about the Nomu situation unless my beneficiaries approved the real deal we wanna strike here. One that's incredibly lucrative compared to that other deal for everyone involved."

"Consider my interest piqued," G-Man intoned. "Your intended offer, then?"

"Only the ultimate once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for anyone with particularly high aspirations." Giran grinned. "An introduction with the faction responsible for those Nomu's creation. The League of Villains."

"And your payment?"

"Honestly, this job's the payment," Giran claimed. "You mighta guessed, but I've been doing business with the League's personnel for months now, and this deal here's simply the logical result of some rather recent back-and-forth collaboration."

"Collaboration intended to embolden the organization that's already induced tremendous terror across society into committing even more impactful crimes," G-Man thought aloud. "Simply summarized, recruitment."

Giran casually shrugged with his hands. "Guilty as charged. You in?"

"Should this organization gain traction, they alone might possess the power to meaningfully impact this reprehensibly stagnant society…" G-Man closed his eyes, envisioning his ideal population composed entirely of truly superhuman specimens in perfect detail.

Opportunities like these weren't extended lightly from organizations with any substantial credibility; thus, this offer wasn't one that could be wasted. Humanity's accelerated ascension might naturally depend on his answer.

Purple pinpricks against abyssal black sclera then revealed themselves once again.

"When shall we depart?"

Authors Note: Now talk about an eventful chapter, eh? Better take it from the top, for continuity's sake. Akiko's recovery went swimmingly, surprising absolutely nobody, since that wasn't really an issue, but still! Figured the universe would willingly cut her some slack since she's finally (for better or worse) becoming familiar with the white lie-filled lifestyle her parents' ultimatum has essentially forced her into. On less depressing notes, I dunno why Akiko doodling her boyfriend before class was so adorable, but I can't say that I regret that decision whatsoever, since it's incredibly cutesy. That same cutesiness is exactly what this chapter needed, too…!

Prior to the absolute depression fiesta that was two-thirds of this chapter's events. Insight into Alpha's philosophy and the potential dangers his brothers embody onto society and Jomei/Akiko/Dawnbreaker in general couldn't exactly help dear old Jomei emerge from his depressive slump, after all – not when Stain was brought up repeatedly, too. Thankfully… the power of friendship (and substantial mush) was enough to bring Jomei back from the brink of spiraling down an even darker, drearier path than the one he'd already fallen headfirst into. While I can't make many spoilers and won't drag out this paragraph too much longer, I will say that this truly is the biggest turning point Jomei's life has experienced up until this point. Will he still be himself? Absolutely. Will he be more self-aware and cautious with himself insofar as his motivations go? Damn straight! Oh, and Glowstone's ship has achieved its first kiss kinda! So there's that! Hooray!

Then there's Giran's kinda-sorta unnamed associate. With aspirations that necessitate immense scale, that shadowy criminal might indeed possess just the right particular set of skills that the League of Villains could utilize in their future endeavors. Whomever he is, and whatever his exact plans for the 'Quirk Singularity' are, however, shall remain rather uncertain for the time being. His intelligence, though… that's anything but questionable.

Finally, on a less depressing/ominous note… I honestly didn't even realize 'Sunsmasher' was an unintentional Borderlands 2 reference until I was halfway through the play-by-play planning of this chapter, but I rolled with it! Oorah for accidental referential nicknames, and the various other cool things that happened in this chapter!

Next time, with everyone's lives finally achieving some significant normality again, Jomei's newly-recovered mentality reveals itself! Finally, this eventful Internships Arc concludes through this season's obligatory obstacle race sequence! Hopefully it turns out alright, because woof… that's one helluva inconsequential event to make miraculously compelling somehow. Wish me luck, eh?