According to the words of the fourteenth Dalai Lama, there's a saying in Tibet that supposedly goes as the following: "Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength."
While Haise Ishimura was sure that there must have been some truth in that saying, he himself found the trials and tribulations in his life to be more encumbersome than empowering. Still, even if his past didn't exactly do his confidence any favor, he tried not to complain about his living situation, and where his life had gone thus far.
For example, he was thankful that the air conditioner inside the community center he was working inside was able to provide warm air within its walls. While such an amanity would be expected in most official laboratories and research facilities, the two-story brick and mortar lab located within the outskirts of the 'nice' part of the Musutafu was akin more to a bachelor pad than an accredited think tank that the humble owner spoke of it being.
In terms of money, the not too esteemed Magnolia Community Research and Education Center had no money to speak of, but even so, raw resources that were needed in the name of science were always in mass abundance.
Although the so-called laboratory held mostly volunteer students from local schools who called themselves scientists and engineers, there wasn't a conceivable way that Haise's peers could fathom how even the lights were kept on in the place.
The shanty community lab was barely staying afloat to the knowledge of everyone else volunteering there, but even so, it persisted in spite of having no income; similar to the way Haise lived himself.
Trying his best to keep his mind focused on what was in front of him, Haise pushed his financial worries to the back of his head as he finished testing the malleability of the black prototype full body suit that he had been developing for what must have been months.
The suit itself, fashioned out of completely organic material, wasn't the goal of what my research was trying to accomplish. No, in actuality it was simply a test that I could showcase, to see whether or not it would be possible to transfer a quirk not into a singular person, but into an item that could be used by any one, regardless of whether they were gifted with a quirk of their own.
The end game of my research would allow a quirk to be copied and mass produced through emulating the neurons and neural oscillation to simulate the same meta abilities that would be exact, or extremely similar, to the original quirk user.
Of course, a copied quirk would require a medium of the sort, and unfortunately, I've only been able to come up with the process of quirk emulating to be possible through using bio-organic material. More specifically, nerve endings and neurons that were able to remain alive, after being stripped from pieces of my own torn muscle.
In a way, one could say that my blood and tears were put into this research; both figuratively, and literally.
Although almost everyone had access to hospitals that would allow them to recover from non-fatal wounds through means of advancements in the medical field, or merely getting healed by someone else's quirk, the truth of the matter was that even if they would subject themselves through the same surgical experimentation that I put myself through, the chances of them ever able to recover completely without needing to be handicapped, or worse, were zero.
With that being said, I would need an array of technology and specific lab equipment that one couldn't find at the Magnolia Community Research and Education Center in order to make my research valuable, and more importantly, practical.
I'd need help creating a synthetic medium to store an emulated quirk, and to discover a way to copy the neurons from the original quirk user, in order to simulate the neural oscillation needed to allow the meta ability to be used through said medium.
To put it simply, I'd have to find a way to make quirk gear mass produced, without crippling or killing the person who had the quirk in the first place, all of which I was nowhere near discovering.
Yet.
Laying his handiwork down across the workshop table that he had spent nearly his entire life behind, Haise wasn't sure if he was earning himself any questionable stares from the other nearby volunteers within the second story of the lab with him. Truth be told, they were all too preoccupied with developing their own research to pay any mind to Haise's heavy breathing, as he nervously grabbed a large scalpel; but peer pressure still persisted in his mind nonetheless.
Holding the cold metal handle in the palm of his right sweaty hand, Haise's light brown eyes were opened wide behind his lockets of raven-blue bangs, as he used his free hand to grab a handful of the suit's long arm sleeve before pulling back on it to create tension. Fearing that the suit wouldn't be able to repair itself, like it had been countless times in the past, Haise anxiously pressed the tip of the scalpel's steel blade into the organic weave of the full body suit's arm, before creating an elongated incision along the hard-to-cut fabric.
Letting a sigh out under his breath, as though he were exhaling after taking a shot of hard liquor, Haise took a step back from the workbench and anxiously analyzed where he thought he had cut into the suit. Having expected to be met with the sight of the incision repairing itself, or simply being left open along the sleeve, Haise found himself dumbfounded after carefully inspecting the fabric for any signs of being cut.
"… I don't get it," Haise muttered impatiently under his breath, as he lifted the sleeve up to examine it one more time, before blindly reaching over where he had last left the scalpel. "… Maybe the blade was too dull…"
Suddenly, Haise's body tensed up and his jaw clenched from feeling surprised after having heard the all too familiar sound of laughter coming from none other than the gentle soul who owned and managed the community research lab.
"AH HAHA, HA! Young man, I'm afraid the knife's not what's being dull this morning…!~" The stout older man jeered playfully, while safely holding the scalpel he had sneakily taken from Haise's work bench while he had been distracted with his work.
Letting out a nervous laugh, Haise did his best to calm himself down after having been snuck upon. "Mr. Iroh…! Y-Y almost gave me a heart attack, haha…!" Haise said with an endearing grin spread across his shy face, while turning around with his back gently pressing against the edge of the work bench's table, so to look back at the embarrassed expression welling up on the playful older man's grey bearded face.
Iroh, his name was Iroh; he had no surname, just a first name that he went by. I've known him for most of my life, and apparently he and my father were close. Even if he was practically a living father figure for me now, I genuinely have always assumed that 'Iroh' wasn't even remotely close to his real name; assuming that someone as enigmatic as him even had a birth name to begin with.
Of course, that was all speculation that I never had the courage to ever bring up to him; even at an early age, I knew better than to risk disrespecting someone as kind and charitable as him. Even so, despite the benevolent way he portrayed himself, I always knew that something was off about him; as if the man he portrayed himself being was merely a facade to cover up who he was, or at least who he had been in the past.
Iroh never talked about himself, other than his fascination with tea, my father, and wanting to donate his time and seemingly endless resources to improvised schools within Musutafu, and to those who were struggling at home. With that being said, growing up with him had given my brain plenty of time to conjure up my own ideas about his past; some which were entertaining enough to share with him, and to which he would be greatly entertained by listening to me spout them out to him on occasion.
Still, despite me nor seemingly anyone else truly knowing who Iroh was, we all could take comfort in knowing that he was, at the end of the day, a kind soul inhabiting the body of a surprisingly muscular and athletic older man, who dressed in different kaminos each day, and who had an impressive beard and sideburns that more than paired well with his long greying hair that he had tied up in a samurai-like knot.
To put it simply, he was a good man, and an even better friend to anyone who had the pleasure of ever meeting him.
Having practically raised Haise as well as being a mentor to him, Iroh had long since grown accustomed to the young man's occasional episodes of seemingly spacing out whenever he became too deep in thought.
Waiting with the patience of a saint, Iroh hummed quietly to himself after having put the scalpel back down where he had playfully taken it from Haise when his back was turned to him.
By the time he saw Haise's pupils beginning to move and his shoulders relaxing, Iroh knew that his star pupil was 'back in the world of the living', as he jokingly would say whenever the young seventeen year-old was finished having his own monologue.
"… Apologies for giving you a spook, Haise; I couldn't help myself, I suppose," Iroh said with an apologetic and gentle tone, continuing to smile at him as he walked forward to make his way beside the jumpy young man.
"I know, Mr. Iroh… After all, you're quite the prankster," Haise said with an amused chuckle under his breath, while turning around to stare alongside with the older man at the seemingly pristine prototype he had been working on.
"Well, you know me; guilty as charged! Besides… I highly doubt a heart attack would do anything to someone like you," Iroh said with a warm chortle, as he carefully took a moment to gander at where he had witnessed Haise making an incision into the sleeve of the body suit. "Such fine craftsmanship, young man; very fine indeed! Perhaps you should have been a tailor instead?"
"Being a tailor would require me needing to know how to make a proper incision… It's like you said, the scalpel wasn't what was being dull a few moments ago," Haise said with an embarrassed look on his face, while Iroh merely shook his head to visually express his disagreement with what the young man had said.
"Oh don't be so hard on yourself, Haise; I didn't actually mean to imply such a notion…! You're a very brilliant young man, and even brilliant young men such as yourself are prone to overseeing the obvious from time-to-time," Iroh said with a genuine tone to his comforting voice, before handing the sleeve over to Haise to take a hold of.
"Go ahead, make the cut again. But this time, I want you to focus on what's going on under the small edge of the blade, rather than trying to get ahead of yourself and focusing too much on wanting to see the end result of your fruits of labor."
"… Very poetic, Mr. Iroh. Tell me, did you rehearse that one last night?" Haise asked sarcastically with a good nature smirk on his face; hearing the older gentleman letting out a snicker while looking over his shoulder to grab the handle of the scalpel.
"Don't be ridiculous, young man; it took me much longer than that," Iroh replied back in an equally jovial tone, as he leaned against the workbench while carefully analyzing the organic material of the black sleeve immediately repairing itself with small black tendrils that would form together as soon as the scalpel would slice apart the sleeve.
Having already seen the somewhat eerie, yet fascinating, sight once, Iroh wasn't nearly as enthralled and surprised as Haise was from seeing an incision being made on the sleeve; still, that wasn't to say that Iroh wasn't happy to see the young man's eyes light up upon initially discovering that his experiment had gone far better than he had hoped for.
The reason why I wasn't able to see the incision after I made it was simple: the sleeve repaired itself at the same rate as I was making the cut.
Rather than needing an allotment of time for my quirk to take effect, the organic weave was instantly repairing itself while it was being sliced; pulling itself back together under the scalpel blade that I had failed to notice the first time.
The saying, 'hindsight is twenty-twenty', reigned true; I should have expected that the material made up from my own flesh and muscle would be able to repair itself at the same rate of my own regenerative quirk. The first victory I've had in months was remarkable, but ultimately it was merely just one of the many steps I would need to take in order to make my vision into a reality.
What I had to do next was a far more straightforward step, but a step that I couldn't do on my own: I'd have to be hired by a company that would be willing to invest heavily into creating a way for me to emulate anyone's quirks in mass quantities.
In order to do this, I neatly folded my successful prototype suit and my scalpel into the metal suitcase that Iroh had given to me eight years ago, as a gift for when I first was enrolled into the Hero Academy's support program.
When I was a student at that high school, I've only made one actual friend during my time spent in the support program. That wasn't to say that I was unpopular within my group of peers; far be it, actually. I was the son of a very renowned scientist, who had contributed countless amounts of research and findings in biology regarding meta humans.
By the age of eleven, I was enrolled into the academy, and was more than capable of teaching others, including the professors themselves, about biology and the science behind quirks.
A living prodigy of a deceased legend in the science community, my life for the two years I spent in the Hero Academy consisted of others stroking my ego while trying to get on my good side; believing themselves to be securing their futures just by being my 'friend'.
Of course, the dream of being able to fit my father's shoes and live up to his image didn't last long, and it wasn't after I needed to be removed from the academy over succumbing to a hardship did I finally understand that no one really loved me as I had thought they did.
In reality they loved my father: Dr. Ishimura. They couldn't care about who I was aside from his legacy.
Everyone, except ironically the last person who I thought would value someone who had fallen from grace such as I had, and that person was Mei Hatsune.
Mei was the only other classmate that I still kept in touch with, due to her really being the only one who bothered to keep in touch with me after I left the academy about four years ago.
Mei was… A lot more outspoken and ambitious than I ever could be. With that being said, ever since that self-advertising stunt she pulled out all those years ago at some sporting event, during which an aspiring hero-in-training was showing off his quirk to the adoring crowds and potential employers.
I think that's how it went, anyways; extracurricular activities that deviated from my own research were always seen as trivial to me back then.
Ever since that stunt, she had become the center of attention for investors, due to mostly the way she was able to convince her audience that the defects in her faulty and rushed tech weren't bugs, but rather, as she put it, 'features'.
Manipulative as she was intelligent, albeit egotistical at times, she wasn't shallow as I first believed her to be. Although I couldn't see it back then as I do now, Mei had always been there for me, and that statement presented itself truer than ever after I called her three hours after I had finished up in the workshop, so that I could discuss the possibility of potential investors she knew who would be interested in working with me.
Sitting down with a cold appetizer sitting on top of an ever colder ceramic plate centered on the small circular table between her and the unoccupied chair, Mei considered asking her waitress for the check when her telescopic eyes caught sight of a young man awkwardly excusing himself, as he hastily brushed past the other seated restaurant patrons.
"Excuse me, sorry; I'm in a hurry," Haise repeatedly muttered under his breath, all while not bothering to address the judgmental looks and disappointing glares he was receiving, as he finally made his way to the empty seat that was parallel from where his pink-haired friend had been waiting for him.
Clearly amused from seeing just how many people he had managed to rile up in a short period of time, Mei had a wide smirk across her lips as she watched Haise quickly setting his suitcase down by her feet, before finally taking a seat across from her.
"Quite the entrance you made there, Ishimura; and fashionably late, as usual," Mei mused sarcastically with a nod, as she motioned for Haise to take a look over his shoulder, where he was met with an array of scornful glares from very athletic and muscular individuals , all of who were in a platitude of different colored costumes.
"… They must not like the service here," Haise muttered sarcastically under his breath, before turning his head back while brushing off the fact that he was clearly unwanted by the pro heroes who were on their lunch break.
"Well, considering that you're not groveling at their feet for daring to slightly inconvenience their meal, I don't think they care much for you being here," Mei said with a slight bit of annoyance in her voice, as she took a moment to survey the room with her telescopic sight, before looking back at Haise. "… People are making complaints about you, and it looks like there's a few brawnier ones who are considering getting off of their chairs to confront you themselves… One of them looks kind of familiar, but I can't see past the pillar over there."
"Ah, I see… I don't think I'll be able to stick around for the main entree then," Haise said with a slight bit of stress in his voice, before anxiously fidgeting with a cold rice ball from the center appetizer plate, while Mei popped open the suitcase by her feet.
"I'll try to be quick, Ishimura," Mei said under her breath, as she hastily pulled out the folded black suit from Haise's suitcase, before reaching into the suitcase to retrieve the metal scalpel. Doing her best to conceal the blade to avoid giving the agitated and short-tempered heroes a reason to get handsy with either her or Haise, Mei used her quirk to observe the organic material repairing itself as she made an incision along the chest area.
"Huh, you weren't kidding about how fast this thing can fix itself, weren't you…!?" Mei exclaimed in a hush yet fascinated voice, before making several more incisions along the regenerative material. "Imagine the possibilities we could achieve with this kind of tech alone…! Why, I wouldn't even have to worry about wear-and-tear, or even collisional damage if my inventions were infused with your quirk…!"
While Mei was allowing herself to indulge her own imagination out loud for Haise to hear, the young man soon found himself looking over his shoulder again, after hearing the sounds of embers crackling and heavy footsteps approaching him, he soon found himself anxiously calling out to his friend. "… Hatsune?"
"-Ishimura, what if you could emulate my quirk? Wouldn't you think it'd be spectacular if I were to harness that ability and improve on it?! As in, I could make my robots see tens -wait, no- HUNDREDS of kilometers in perfect and amazing high-definition quality; all without having to create a bulky telescopic-camera onto its optical sensors! Why, I-," before Mei could go any further into her rambling, it was only when she felt the room grow hotter and saw the plate of rice balls growing faintly orange did she finally look up to see a very unnerving frown on the face of none other than the number one pro hero of all of Japan.
The same pro hero who was her employer, as well as the man who was funding the inventions that she had signed over to him.
"Ah… G-Good afternoon, Mr. Todoroki," Mei said with her eyes suddenly widened at the sight of the impressively large man who donned the ivory set of power armor that she herself had created for him. "I-I didn't know you also ate here, ha, haha…!"
"… Ms. Hatsune," Endeavor addressed in a straightforward tone, while continuing to maintain eye contact with her as he reached down to suddenly clamp his large and armored hand down on Haise's slender shoulder. "… Is this child a friend of yours?" He asked in a sternly disapproving voice, while tightening his grip and allowing himself to create enough heat between his palm and Haise's shoulder to cause a mild burning sensation that would make most people squirm or scream in pain.
Watching Haise remaining stone-faced and unflinching to Endeavor's touch, Mei couldn't help but wonder how her friend was able to brush off her boss trying to inflict minor pain upon him; especially after beginning to smell Haise's black shirt beginning to burn. 'I have to hand it to you, Ishimura; your pain tolerance is something else…'
"He's, uh… He's my friend from the academy! He was in the support program for a little bit, b-but he's really smart!" Mei said with a wide and uncomfortable grin, before suddenly showing Endeavour the black prototype suit that Haise had originally brought to present to her; as if she were bargaining with Endeavour to silently plead for him to not hurt Haise.
Taking his sleek-armored hand off of Haise's shoulder, Endeavor took the small-sized prototype from Mei's slightly-trembling hands to inspect it for himself; leaving his employed engineer and scientist to wince after noticing a burnt hole in the shoulder of Haise's shirt, which rested above a patch of newly regenerated skin where Endeavour had been silently burning him alive.
"… It feels warm," Endeavour muttered upon first glance, while boredly staring at it before looking back down at Mei's hazel-telescopic eyes. "What's so special about it?"
"Go ahead and try to damage the suit, Mr. Todoroki! Oh, but don't actually burn-," clarifying herself too late, Mei found herself letting out a gasp as she watched Endeavour instantly incinerate Haise's entire several-month project, all in less than a blink of an eye.
Smirking at his accomplishment, Endeavour slowly knelt down beside Haise and stared intently at his stoic facial expression. Seeing how his first attempt of getting a reaction from Haise didn't go as planned, Endeavour was curious to see whether or not he'd be able to get the young man to break his composure.
"… Is that what you deemed worthy enough to interrupt my time with? A poorly constructed bodysuit that could be annihilated in a split second?" Endeavour asked in a condescending tone, as he glared menacingly at the brown eyes of the young man, who refused to make eye contact with his chilling blue eyes. "… How pathetic."
"… The only thing pathetic here Mr. Todoroki, is your short-sightedness," Haise said in a low voice, while still refusing to look at the man he had insulted. Haise could hear Mei letting out another shocked gasp, and all he could think to do was to quickly shoot his hand out to grab a hold of his pink-haired friend's glass of water, before splashing the massive man's glowing flames upon his face and head.
Hearing an angered gruff and a quick inhalation of air through a muttered curse word, Haise closed his eyelids shut and let out a deep breath as he heard Endeavour standing up from his kneeling position. However, before Endeavour's anger got the best of him, Mei quickly found herself standing up from her chair to try and defuse the situation before things got bad for both her boss, and her friend.
"W-Wait, Mr. Todoroki! You wouldn't want to injure that brilliant mind of his, would you?! Especially one that could greatly benefit you…!" Mei said with a wide grin, as she did her best to covertly place herself between him and Haise.
"Brilliant mind…?! Clearly this little shit doesn't have half a brain in that thick head of his…!" Endeavour hissed out through seething rage, as he glared intently with reignited flames coating his head. "This little bastard of yours is done, do you hear me Hatsune?! He's fucking done…!"
Doing her best to keep calm and chipper in the face of seeing her boss' head ignite in a raging fire, Mei did her best to look concerned as she leaned in slightly closer toward Endeavour's ear. "Mr. Todoroki, you're causing a scene right now… I believe it's best to just take a step back, and do your breathing exercises…"
Visibly infuriated by being talked down to like his employee was his caretaker, especially in front of the other pro heroes and restaurant staff who were too hesitant to get involved just yet, Endeavour fumbled with his words before suddenly shifting his gaze from Mei to Haise, who's brown eyes were almost enough to set him back into another fit of rage.
"… You little fucker, I'm going to-"
"-He'll leave, if you want him to go, Mr. Torodoki," Mei said in a brave voice, while doing her best to allow the enraged man to believe that he had control of the situation, before turning her head to frown apologetically at her friend. "Isn't that right, Ishimura? You'll leave, won't you?"
Feeling disheartened by hearing his friend seemingly take her boss' side over his own, Haise brushed aside any feelings of betrayal he was feeling after trying to reason with himself that he had caused enough trouble, and that Mei was just trying to do what was best for him, and herself.
There wasn't anything left I could say to excuse my own actions, or to speak up for myself. I had already endangered Mei's career, the one she fought so hard to get a chance at in the first place, all because I decided to splash water into Endeavour's face.
Although he more than deserved what I did to him, I should have known better than to lash out like that.
With my prototype destroyed, I would need to once again mutilate my arm in order to extract enough nerves from my severed muscles to create a makeshift nervous system throughout another article of clothing.
Knowing that the scientific method meant that I wouldn't have to bother expanding my organic matter throughout an entire body suit; a lengthy process that was only necessary due to me repeatedly needing to undergo different experiments that required me to observe the jury-rigged oscillation readings.
That, and a body suit that could repair itself was a lot more impressive to showcase than something else less marketable, like a sock or a glove.
Knowing that I could repeat the last process again in order to make another suit, I was in the middle of trying to focus on the positives laid out before me, before I was suddenly interrupted by a large foreign object piercing me from behind, and rupturing out through my abdomen.
Having been heading back to the community lab to collect the necessary tools he would be needing to harvest what he needed from his own flesh and blood, Haise hadn't been paying any mind to his surroundings when he was suddenly ambushed while sulking through an alleyway that he normally used to head to the Magnolia laboratory.
Unable to scream past the blood that was quickly pouring out of his mouth from being vomited out of his ruptured stomach, Haise stared horrified through the sheer agony he was going through, as the tip of a large black tendril lifted him up after hooking itself through him.
Involuntarily holding onto the handle of his metal suitcase as he was being lifted up by the tendril coming from up above on a nearby roof five stories up, Haise found himself tightening his grip on it as he was suddenly flung outward towards the direction of the construction site he passed ten minutes ago.
The same fenced construction site that was roughly a half a kilometer away from the alley.
The thick dunes of sand that the unoccupied construction's equipment and heavy materials resided on top of did little to soften the impact of Haise's fall, considering that his body was skewered through a large rebar pole that was sticking out from the cement foundation of where, ironically, a new hospital was supposed to be built by the Ochako Construction Company.
Feeling his body pulling itself back together and creating new organs from the ones that had been eviscerated by his unseen assailant, Haise considered staying hung up there until being rescued, but that idea was quickly thrown out as a possibly viable option after seeing the silhouette of what he assumed to be his attacker climbing over the rooftops of buildings toward his direction, just over the horizon; four large tendrils carrying the attacker like a spider pursuing its prey.
Although his pain tolerance was high, the act of pulling himself off of a foreign metal object that was protruding through his still-healing abdomen was torture for Haise; especially considering that he didn't have time to ready himself or take any breaks from the pain of having his insides repeatedly sliced apart and pulled back together, with each inch he managed to free himself.
By the time he finally freed himself from the ten meter long piece of rebar sticking out horizontally from a concrete pillar, Haise had collapsed onto the ground and into a pool of his own discarded innards and blood. With nothing but his own pain tolerance and adrenaline preventing him from passing out from either the blood loss or excruciating agony he was in, Haise attempted to get up to his feet to make his escape.
Trying to stand back up, Haise had overestimated his quirk's ability and as well as his own body's limitations, and immediately fell back down into the pool of his own splattered viscus. Breathing out through his nostrils before quickly vomiting out his newly formed stomach's acids and leftover blood into the crimson pool he was already crawling on, Haise felt hot tears running down the sides of his widened eyes as he looked up to see that his attacker had finally reached the perimeter of the fenced off construction grounds.
Staring up in the air at where his attacker was being lifted up from the sandy dunes and over any obstacles that separated themselves from him, Haise found himself taking in the details of the young feminine man who hid behind a cloth muffler and long black strands of hair that somewhat covered his jet black eyes and white irses. Dressed in a skin-tight white leather bodysuit that had black jagged markings along where the suit covered his ribs, the appearance of Haise's assailant made itself clearer to him as he got closer and closer to the critically injured man.
Any thoughts that he was about to be shown mercy came crashing down to the ground the moment after the black-haired attacker used one of his four black tendrils to skewer Haise through his abdomen, before lifting him up from the ever-growing pool of gore. Hanging limp with one hand gripped tightly around the handle of the scalpel he had managed to fish out of his now-damaged suitcase, any hope of being able defend himself became snuffed after trying to stab the black-glowing tendril.
Haise's feeble attempt of trying to defend himself resulted in the scalpel bending in on itself like a crushed can, without its sharpened blade able to even leave a mark on his attacker's tendril. Ruthlessly, the assailant retaliated against Haise for trying to save his own life by raising a second tendril up and wrapping it around the barely conscious man's right forearm.
Crushing down on Haise's lower right arm while jerking backwards with relative ease, the assailant was able to effortlessly rip half of the young man's arm clean off, before tossing it to the side.
It was then that the realization that he was about to die finally dawned on Haise.
By the time that my attacker discarded my severed right arm to the side, as if it were an unwanted drumstick, my body was finally going into shock, and the pain I felt was not nearly as bad as it was when he first tore a hole through my stomach.
My soon-to-be murderer kept the cloth muffler around his lower face as he pulled me closer toward him to speak. His eyes, never blinking, focused in on the light fading from mine, as he spoke rasp and stuttering sentences out, as if forming somewhat coherent words was mentally challenging for him to accomplish.
"Iroh. Iroh. You. You are friend. Friend of Iroh. You. You die. You die, because of him." Is what he said to me through garbled muttering and high-pitched and sudden screams. Or at least, I believe that's what he was trying to say; I found it hard to hear him as I was dying.
I had a lot of questions were running through my head as my assailant raised my body three meters up above his head to deliver what I figured to be the killing blow; none of which were seemingly like they were ever going to be answered at the rate I was going, and where becoming more-and-more incomprehensible as my brain started to suffer from a lack of oxygen from not having enough blood in my body.
'Why was I going to be murdered?'
'That sign, the one on the fence… It read 'Ochako'.'
'Was there truth behind the ramblings of the crazed monster who seemed borderline feral? And if so, what did Iroh do that angered someone enough that they wanted me dead?'
'I think I knew some girl named Ochako; or at least, knew of her…'
'Was I really going to die a virgin, just like that blonde haired guy said, who kept calling me a 'background character'?'
'She was so bubbly and nice… Or at least, that's how she presented herself.'
'That guy was a real asshole.'
'Asshole, like that guy who destroyed my suit.'
'Suit was fFfFleeeeshhhh and Bloooood.'
'Tears. Tears and blood. That's all I have left.'
'Burned me.'
'Alone and burning (Such pain).'
'BuRnInG.'
'BuRnInG meeeeeeee (Hurts, but I can't show it).'
'(I NEVER STOPPED HURTING) MaMa.'
'It hurts.'
'Pain. Pain. Pain.'
'I'm sorry Mei.'
'Mei. The doctor they sent me to, he isn't helping me (Sorry Mei).'
'He told me no one cared that I was sad; he called me weak, and that my tragedies were going to empower me (Burned me too).'
'Mei, I'm trying to smile (I can't see anymore).'
'Smileeeeeee (Smile, smile, smile).'
'BuRnS (Bubbly. I can't hear anything).'
'DiDn'T mY tHeRaPiSt SaY tHaT tRaDgEdDdDdYyyyyyy WHasss G-GoOoD?!'
'TrAgEdYyYyYy!'
'Dad burned (Burn burn burn).'
'Alone (Pain).'
'I'm going to die (I'm sorry Mei).'
'Dead. Dead like them (Tragedy).'
'I'm sorry, Iroh. I'm sorry Mei.'
'I'm sorry, father.'
'Mama, forgive me.'
'Sorry. Sorrow.'
'Sadness (I am sorry).'
'I am sad.'
With the only mercy that the masked assailant was willing to give being a swift death to the young man he had spent briefly torturing, the tendril-wielding villian decided to end Haise's life by aiming to splatter him violently across the concrete foundation, in which a future hospital would serve as his tombstone.
There was hardly any blood left in Haise that remained in his cold and practically lifeless body, and thus there wasn't much coming out of the cavity in his mutilated abdomen as he was sent flying at Mach speed toward his gruesome death.
Such mercy, however, once again managed to evade Haise; a startling surprise that was as much of a revelation to the masked assailant as it would be for the young man, had he still been conscious enough to realize that he had been caught mid-air by a green-costumed man who appeared to be donning battle damage.
"Y-You?! WHY?!" The schizophrenic young man demanded as he twitched at the sight of the new symbol of peace landing in the center of the concrete foundation. There, the masked man felt seething rage mixed with crippling anxiety while muttering incoherently to himself, as he watched the pro hero who he thought he had gotten killed gently lower Haise down behind a stone pillar, just out of his field of vision. "You…?! You should be dead too; like Iroh's friennnndddd…?!"
While the black-eyed monster of a man was having a mental breakdown, in the midst of what should have been the end of his murder spree for the day, Deku did his best to ignore the immeasurable pain he felt irradting from his side, where the bloodied wound he had sustained recently was staining his costume.
Having seen more than enough bloodshed to last a lifetime, just within those ten minutes alone, the crushing feeling of despair resinated deeper in the pro hero, as he stared desperately for any and all signs of life that could spark any hope of the young man still being alive.
'His skin is pale… Blue lips, he's… He's breathing I think?! It's shallow, sure, but…!' Deku thought frantically to himself in a panicked state of mind, as he weighed whether he should flee the scene with the younger man who was on Death's door, or if he should confront the mass murderer there and now.
"D-Doesn't matter…! I… I w-will kill you... Kill you by myself, again!" The psychotic masked man spat out behind his cloth half mask, before finally deciding to charge head on with his four tendrils arched back; each ready to tear apart the green-haired man.
Seconds away from being torn apart like papermesha, like how he'd seen the masked man do to the others at Tartarus ten minutes ago, Deku knew that he couldn't prolong the inevitable any longer. "…You can rest now; I am here," he whispered sorrowfully to the young man who he figured to be on his way to the afterlife, before immediately dodging the attack by side stepping in the blink of an eye.
Feeling the specks of rubble and rock bouncing off of his body from the aftermath of the psychopath's tendrils striking the concrete pillar instead of him, Deku's boots skidded across the concrete foundation beneath him, as he knelt down to a halting stop; narrowly avoiding being bisected from the waist after ducking just in time underneath the masked man's tendrils' follow up attack.
The ferocity of the masked man's tendrils swinging horizontally towards him was enough to break the sound barrier meters away from the right side of Deku; essentially destroying his right ear drum. Ignoring the trickling blood dripping down his damaged ear, Deku saw an opening for himself to deliver his counter attack.
Cocking back his fist, concentrating on charging up One for All's power to unleash a devastating attack that would put a stop to the masked man's killing spree, Deku filled his lungs with a large breath of air before screaming out in a defiant and righteous rage.
"DETROIT SM-AGH?!" Before Deku could leap forward to close the distance between him and the black-haired monster, or react in general, his opponent proved to be far quicker than he had anticipated. Having used his tendrils after missing his horizontal slash when he had tried bisecting his opponent, the black-eyed man catapulted himself like a speeding bullet toward Deku at Mach speed, and tackled him down onto his back.
On top of Deku while skidding across the large concrete foundation, the black haired man quickly pulled down his white cloth mask and flashed his white gritted teeth for Deku to see, before immediately arching his neck down to sink his teeth into the pro hero's right bicep; preventing him from using that arm by chewing through the pro hero's tendon.
Letting out a wail of pain as he came to a halting stop after smashing through a large concrete cylinder housing bundles of rebar, Deku could feel his flight or fight response beginning to kick in. Fear began to seep into Deku's previous brave and righteous demeanor as he watched the black-eyed psychopath spit out a chunk of his flesh to the side, while the black tendrils emerging from his lower back effortlessly pushed aside the tons of building material off of them.
Letting out a terrified scream as he watched the demonic-like man on top of him opening his bloody maw once more, Deku used his left arm to reach up and grab a hold of his assailant's slender neck; which even for his strength, Deku found himself struggling to actually squeeze his fingers around his opponent's resiliently structured neck.
Seemingly getting more angry over the fact that Deku was trying to suffocate him rather than worrying over his own self preservation, the unmasked man screamed hatefully through a mouthful of his opponent's blood. In a split second, the unmasked monster reached down with his right hand and dug his fingers deep into the gaping wound underneath the pro hero's rib cage; causing Deku to once again scream in agony and granting him a chance to go in for the kill.
All at once, Deku felt his attacker's four tendrils wrapping themselves around his limbs and his lower ribs beginning to be pried apart by the unmasked psychopath's surprising strength. He was feeling his left hand losing its grip more by the millisecond, as he watched the black tendril wrapped around his outstretched arm constricting down it; crushing the bones and tendons in his last remaining good arm.
Pain overtook his mind, and no longer did Deku see this as anything more than him fighting for his own survival. With his body on the verge of being crushed and torn apart like the corpses of Tartarus' correctional officers, and the many heroes and villains alike that the monster on top of him massacred indiscriminately, Deku wasn't able to do anything else but scream out in agony and fear, as he did the only thing he could do to save his own life.
It was his life or the life of the mass murderer on top of him, and Deku chose to save his own in that very moment.
Without even realizing what he was doing, Deku used One for All's ability to empower his grip with the might of all of the righteous souls who came before him, so that he could crush the neck of the monster pinning him to the ground. Not only did Deku crush his attacker's throat, but the power behind his grip was enough to completely decapitate him; his fingers slicing through the man's neck like hot knives through warm butter.
Closing his eyelids and mouth, Deku turned his head and shrunk into himself in disgust, as the area around him was coated in specks of blood. 'Get off, get off, get off…!' Deku thought frantically and repeatedly to himself, before instinctively lifting his knee up and kicking the headless body off of him.
Feeling his heart racing in his chest, Deku wiped his face free of as much blood as his ripped sleeve could soak up, before finally opening his eyes to bear witness to the aftermath of his life-or-death skirmish.
There, laying down in a pool of pitch-black blood was the headless body of the young man who had murdered more people in the matter of ten minutes than any villian Deku knew of. Even with adrenaline coursing through his veins and on the brink of a nervous breakdown, Deku knew that the mass murderer he had slain had it coming to him, and that he needed to be stopped.
There wasn't a shadow of doubt in Deku's mind that what he had done was the right thing to do, and that there wasn't going to be any negative whiplash from the public about him defending himself from something as horrid as the man who had slaughtered so many.
Still, Deku had never taken a life before, and the brutality of his first kill shook him to the core enough that he didn't even notice that the brave paramedics who had been trailing him since the invasion of Tartarus had already landed their helicopter within fifteen meters of him; nor did Deku notice that Ochako had finally caught up with him.
Having not had time to dress down and into her old hero costume, Ochako used her quirk to make her fiancé's battle-damaged body weightless, so that she could pick him up from the ground without risking injuring him.
"Deku…! Deku, hey, hey I-I need you to talk to me, okay love?!" Ochako stuttered out, while fighting back her own tears as she carried him in her arms towards the safety of the helicopter.
Still dazed from having just survived another close shave, one that was too close for his comfort, the fact that Deku's right ear drum was blown out didn't make hearing Ochako's frantic words any easier for him to understand them.
"I'll… I'll be okay," Deku said with a shaken voice, which seemed to be enough to prevent Ochako from having a full on breakdown of her own. Being seated down in the back of the landed helicopter's transport bay, Deku looked past his fiancé's shoulder as she opened up a field kit from underneath his seat to begin the process of patching him up. A process that she had gotten good at, ever since her fiancé had opened up his own Hero Office.
"Thank God… You gave us all a heart attack when you chased after that… That sick fuck," Ochako said spitefully with nothing hot hatred in her voice, as Deku watched her face scrunch up with rage at the mere mention of the man who had murdered so many people, including almost ending the life of her lover. "I saw what you did to him, babe… Don't blame yourself; that monster had to be put down, and the world will be MORE than willing to thank you for what you did…!"
Flinching and letting out a grunt from feeling Ochako disinfecting his wounds with antiseptic spray, before packing them up with gauss and keeping them in place with tight bandages, Deku couldn't help but be somewhat caught off guard by the foul words that were coming out of Ochako's mouth.
"Good fucking riddance…!" Ochako swore again under her breath, as she tugged hard on the bandage she had wrapped around Deku's abdomen to keep the gauss inside his gaping wound.
Taking a moment to compose herself, Ochako proceeded to use whatever supplies she could get her hands on within the field kit, as well as whatever she could find in the helicopter, to begin the process of bracing her fiancé's limbs before she could start the process of cleaning him up as best she could.
Deku couldn't really hold it against her for being so hateful towards the black-eyed man; she saw the same things he did at where Tartarus once held strong, and saw even more death than he did after she and him split apart so she could help Shoto respond to the fire that burnt the city's community research center down to the ground.
"Yeah… Yeah, I think so too," Deku muttered quietly in response to Ochako's thoughts on the headless man who he had killed; the same corpse that he could see being dragged by one paramedic toward the direction of where Haise was laid out on the floor, where he was being given chest compressions by the other medic.
From where he was, Deku watched the paramedic tossing the decapitated corpse aggressively down beside where they were trying to resuscitate the blue-haired young man; a sight that was uncanny to see for Deku, to say the least.
'To think, not even those men who took an oath to save the lives of others could give two craps about that monster… Really goes to show just how hated that wretched thing was,' Deku thought morbidly to himself, all the while already trying to refer to his attacker as less than human.
If he saw the headless corpse as nothing more than the remains of a demon that he slayed, and not as a human that he had killed, it made the act weigh less on Deku's heart and brought him a feeling of calmness; a feeling that he desperately needed then and there.
While Deku was silently watching from afar, the paramedics were already fast at work. Sliding needles deep into the body of the slain monster, the paramedic that wasn't giving Haise chest compressions was preparing to have his patient undergo a field cadaver-blood transfusion, in order to try and save the raven-haired boy's life.
A procedure that was considered immoral, but considering that neither of the men cared about the headless beast who heartlessly slayed many of their fellow emergency responders, neither had any qualms about defiling the murder's body to save the life of an innocent.
There was a light at the end of a long tunnel, warped around what appeared to be an infinite sea of darkness and sparks of light; similar to how the stars in space burn.
Out there, in what I could best describe as a cold-cosmic abyss of endless possibilities, I felt exposed and vulnerable, and the need to seek a haven for myself filled what I assumed to be my very being.
A soul? Possibly, although the skeptic in me stated otherwise.
Perhaps it was an hallucination brought on by my brain dying; that was a more probable cause than being faced with the gates of what I could only assume was an afterlife.
It really didn't matter to me then, because for the first time what seemed like forever, I felt as though true happiness, and I mean real happiness, not the kind of happiness that just distracts you from the tragedies of life, was within my reach.
I wanted whatever was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel; I wanted that so much more than anything left I had waiting for me in life.
Warmth, comfort, love, joy, and peace were all just a short walk away, but as I made my first step toward what would surely be the end of my hated existence, I soon found myself unable to make any more progress.
Bewildered from what was denying me from getting what I wanted, no, what I deserved, it was then I stared down at my right wrist, and noticed that there was a black tendril wrapped around it.
Horrified, I tried pulling my hand away from it, but it wasn't any use. Soon, I felt a second, third, and then fourth tendril wrap themselves around my body and legs, and it wasn't long until I was being dragged back from where I had come from, and away from the light.
Clawing at nothing, desperately trying to pull myself free from this wretched thing's hold on me, I let out a scream as I felt myself being pulled away from salvation; away from what was the closest thing to a happy ending that I would get.
The star-like lights grew brighter-and-brighter the further my body was getting consumed by those damned tendrils. A black liquid secretion from the tendril wrapping itself around my forehead started to coat my eyes and drown me in its venomous form.
Pain once again was suffocating me; asphyxiating me while the world around me became enveloped in a blinding-white light. Choking while gasping for any and all air, my lungs started to burn like the fires of Hell, as my struggles grew weaker and weaker by the passing moment, until I was laying down on my back, without any energy to do anything more than to scream internally, as I looked up at the cloudy afternoon sky above.
"What the Hell…?! It's actually working…?!"
"Holy shit…! Quick, help me get him on the gurnee! We have to get him to the hospital!"
"Oxygen tank is connected… There."
"I'll ask Uravity to keep checking this kid's vitals; I'll see how All Might's doing."
As the voices, who I presumed belonged to paramedics, continued to converse with one another, all I could do was stare up at the sky above being obstructed by the sight of suspended rotary blades.
Being transported into the bay of the helicopter, I caught the sight of a man and woman staring at me with concern in their gazes, before turning to exchange glances with each other just as the brown-haired woman started to speak to the paramedic team about working together.
Or at least I think that's what they were talking about? Hard to say.
I don't remember what else they said, because it wasn't long after until I finally succumbed to the stress my body was undergoing, and soon I was once again taken by darkness as I lost consciousness.
They say tragedy is what makes you stronger; it's what acts as a source to motivate you and to empower you.
If that's true, then why have I felt broken?
Please help me if you can.