Meant to update See (Too Much) and Stygian Fire

Somehow finishes this instead.

Okay, at least I update my stuff often?

(Saturn sobs quietly in a corner.)

There's no moon out tonight.

He looks out the window of his office silently. At that moment, Toshinori is almost tempted to sit here and look out into the starry night sky. Let his mind wander and his thoughts fizzle out into nothingness along with his worries under the vast void of space.

But the weight of his responsibilities anchored him to the present, denying him this freedom. No, he had too much to worry about to even think about relaxing.

Even permanently trapped in this thin, weak, emaciated body, his work was not done.

The former Number One Hero steps out of his chambers, heading out of the teachers' dorms in silence. He uses his keycard at the entrance door; there's a beep where the machine recognizes it and the lock is released.

Outside is just as cold as he'd expected. Wind sweeps across the barren campus road, snowflakes stirring up in its wake. As a winter breeze makes its way to him, Toshinori clutches his wool scarf tightly against his neck to keep stray snow from slipping in.

This was another thing he wasn't used too. No longer could he rely on One for All to keep him warm.

The tall, evenly spaced street lights illuminate the way for him, and he encounters no one save from the occasional patrol droid. Since Kamino, Nedzu had increased the number of patrol robots across the campus, and a few of the Pointers robots for the entrance exam had been re-outfitted to serve as a last line of defence in case of a villain making its way into the campus.

Toshinori himself wasn't that optimistic that they could stop a Nomu or a member of the League, but their added presence served to quell the media somewhat and reassure the students.

(Or at least, some of them.)

He reaches the student dorms in a matter of minutes. The light on the entrance door was still on; and there was a bag of trash left out on the side of the building. Stepping onto the porch, Toshinori quickly taps his winter boots against a wall, clearing the bottom of compacted snow.

Silent, he waved his keycard in front of the receiver on the wall.

Beep. Click.

The door unlocks.

He steps inside, his boots making next to no noise on the plush carpet. Closing the door gently behind him, Toshinori shudders as he takes in the warm air inside the dorm. It seeps into his clothes and sinks into his skin, revigorating his weary body.

It's strength that he will need.

His scarf and coat are hung by the entrance. Checking his hair for snow, the retired Pro-Hero made his way deeper into the dorms. It didn't take long before he reached the common room.

It wasn't empty.

There's a boy curled up snugly on the couch, tea in hand and book on his lap. Toshinori can't read the title from here, but it seemed like one of the history books for the Hero Program. He didn't dwell on its contents long, as a pair of mismatched eyes lifted from its pages and landed on him.

"Young Todoroki." Toshinori greets with a small smile, to which the young boy answers with a polite nod of the head. "Good afternoon. Have you seen Midoriya?"

The Todoroki heir did not answer right away, rather choosing to take in his appearance. Toshinori tries to not fidget as those differently colored eyes gaze up at him, searching. Todoroki's expression is blank, a mask that left no crack or weakness to be seen -and yet, his eyes betrayed a quiet intensity and protectiveness that made the former Number One Hero feel glad that his successor had such friends by his side.

(After everything, Midoriya needed this.)

"He's in the gym." Todoroki finally answers.

Oh.

That would explain the teen's behavior. This late could only mean one thing. Toshinori can't fight the exhale that leaves him.

Looked like it was one of those nights.

"Thank you." He tells the teen gently. Todoroki merely nods and turns back to his book and teacup.

Toshinori quickly exits, not wanting to interrupt the dual haired teen's studying anymore than he already had, especially at such a critical time. Winter Camp was coming up and with it came the finals for their first year. All the students were working overtime to study, scrambling to make sure they were up on all the material in their classes.

So far they seemed to be doing well, though Toshinori would be blind if he did not see how a certain redhead and a electric blonde were struggling in their written work. Young Yaoyorozu has been working overtime to help them, but often enough he would spot the two huddled up in the library alone. Preferably in a corner away from prying ears or eyes, they would pass back and forth school notes and whisper quietly to each other.

They were a lot more subdued, these past six months. All of them were.

His heart felt tight.

He hoped they would pass all of their written and physical exams. Every one of his students deserved to continue their education; each one had their own personal reasons and drives to strive forward.

Shaking his head out of those depressing thoughts, Toshinori heads out of the communal room and makes his way down to the basement, to the small gym built into the student dorms.

The door there was open. He can hear the loud thud thud of fists against something hard and unyielding; the occasional harsh exhale and repressed grunts as a body was pushed to it's limits. Even if he knew what to expect -this was far from the first late night workout he'd stumbled upon- Toshinori felt his shoulders drop at the sounds coming from beyond the door.

Still, he gathers his courage. I am his teacher. It is my duty to guide him forward, to care for him if he stumbles or falls. I cannot fail him.

(He's already failed one.)

Exhales softly, he reaches for the door.

The lights are on.

There's a figure at the back of the gym; fists clenched and shoulders heaving, Midoriya Izuku was wailing on a training dummy without the use of his Quirk. Kicks, elbow bashes and fists rained down on the training equipment. Sweat drips down his bare arms, highlighting muscles that were steadily building up after nearly two years of constant training.

Toshinori says nothing upon entering. He merely walks over and sits down in a nearby bench and waits for the teen to finish his exercise. Midoriya pauses for a moment, movements faltering before picking up again. Toshinori spies the quick glance of dull green eyes his way before they return to their target.

Minutes pass with only the occasional grunt and the sound of flesh hitting the dummy. His form is perfect. Months of constant, single-minded training had reinforced the young boy's body, readying him to take on more and more of One for All's power.

He looked so different from the boy Toshinori met what felt like decades ago, starry-eyed and dreaming of heroes and happy ever afters.

That boy is still there, he reassures himself quietly. Buried deep, but still there.

Midoriya eventually stops his workout and comes to stand in front of his training dummy. The gym is quiet, safe for the sound of harsh breathing. Toshinori waits, staring at the ground intently as his successor does the same. He hears the boy pick up his water bottle and uncap it, but the retired hero can't find it in himself to look.

It's almost as if his gaze was weighted down. He can't muster the strength to face his charge.

"I was there." Izuku finally mutters. "This weekend -I went over to spend some time…" The green-haired boy trails off, gulping down a sip of his water bottle. The sound is too loud in the too quiet gym. "I opened the door."

Silence. Izuku isn't even panthing anymore from his workout; he's holding his breath in.

Toshinori can only wait.

"Miss Bakugo tried take over but I overheard the conversation. What they said." He swallows. The sound is unbelievably loud in the too quiet gym. "What they wanted."

Silence.

A clatter. The water bottle clatters to the ground, spilling water across the floor.

"How fucking dare they!"

Toshinori can barely keep himself from flinching.

"There's no body!" Midoriya snarls, whirling around; Toshinori's gaze feels yanked up to meet his, almost against his will. The teen's green eyes were wide and suddenly alight with righteous, wild fury. "No proof that he's dead! No demand, no statement from the League!" Midoriya continues, almost heaving with the force of his yelling. "The investigation is still ongoing-!"

"Officially."

Izuku grows quiet.

Toshinori hates the words that leaves his own lips. It feels like poison; a knife driven into the back of his successor. Still, he continues. "It's still officially ongoing."

Izuku's head drops, messy green curls covering his face.

Toshinori thinks he hears his student let out a muffled whimper. He says nothing.

"He's not dead." His student exhales. Izuku's green eyes meet his again; so dull, so desperate and lost, at that moment Toshinori couldn't stop his hitched breath at the sight. "He's not dead."

The words feel like a spear had been driven into his chest. Like All for One had ripped out his stomach and part of his lung once more, left him bleeding and rotting on the battlefield. But this time, Toshinori couldn't find it in himself the strength to get up.

How could he, when the very determination that had held him up for so many years had been sapped from his body?

Months had passed since that fateful training camp.

Toshinori didn't even want to think about it, but it seemed like it haunted every one of his waking moments. Every turn he took, everywhere he looked at, there was something that brought him to that day when he'd stepped out of his bath and got the call from Aizawa.

'Bakugo was taken.' His fellow teacher had exhaled, his voice somber. Toshinori could barely pick up the rough quality of it that betrayed his exhaustion, no doubt having spent hours talking to the police. 'The League infiltrated the camp. They have him.'

It felt like the ground fell out under his feet.

And then, and then-

He'd thought Kamino was his chance. To get Bakugo back, to make things right. To reassure the world that he was here -that heroes were looking out for them. To set things the way they were meant to be and uphold his master's legacy as well as everything he'd worked so hard on.

Instead, all he had to show for it were new broken bones and a permanently thin, sickly body.

Kamino had torn the last few dregs of One for All from his body, leaving him the shell he'd been slowly withering into despite his best efforts. This was an inevitable fate, but Toshinori hadn't expected it so soon. It wasn't supposed to happen this soon.

...and yet, here they were.

His title, gone. The world's trust in him, fractured. His student, still missing.

The last one hurt the most.

He was not close to Bakugo, per say. He was his heroics teacher, nothing more -but Bakugo was important to Izuku, and between that and the sheer potential the blond possessed Toshinori couldn't help but be drawn to the boy. Bakugo Katsuki would be a great hero, he knew this. It was a fact, a foundation for a future he was striving to built.

And that potential, that promise -gone.

Taken.

Stolen.

Worse was the way the League never mentioned Bakugo again.

No taunt, no ransom, nothing. The few sparse time someone encountered them, there was no news on the missing student. No news, no passing mention, nothing that would allow Toshinori to hold on to the idea that maybe, just maybe, his young student was alive somewhere and not...not…

Dead and gone, rotting away somewhere dark and cold and alone-

Toshinori swallows.

The final nail in the coffin -and the reason of his young student's current behavior- had been last week, when Nedzu had finally given the greenlight for one Shinsou Hitoshi to be transferred to class 1-A...taking the spot that had belonged to the explosive blond.

Toshinori knew this was coming -knew that this was necessary, that they could not afford to wait any longer, but it still felt like a betrayal.

At his words his successor flinches back, eyes suddenly going wider and more terrified. "You're not...you're not giving up-?!" Midoriya croaks, the simmering fury that had inhabited him just moments prior melting like snow under the sun.

It was that particular reaction that makes Toshinori stand up.

"I'm not." He can't stop the sudden bruteness of his tone.

This was important. Critical, even.

Snuffing out Izuku's belief that Bakugo would never be found, that he would become just another victim in the history books, another statistic of the League's casualties -it would destroy his successor.

And Toshinori didn't even want to think about what would happen if that came to be.

Reaching out, he clasps his student's hands in his.

He feels a bit of courage return to him in the way that Midoriya doesn't pull away. His successor's hands are warm and firm, skin rough from wear and pulled tight over powerful tendons and muscles. Toshinori allows himself a moment to feel their weight in his hands; feel the future he has entrusted to this once small boy.

Then he lets it out:

"He will be found." Toshinori promises, and the words feel like acid on his tongue. Burning, burning lies. "Trust your old teacher, alright my boy? You cannot dwell in the what ifs, it will lead you down a dark path. That's no way to grow, young one."

Midoriya bites his lower lip, hesitating. He eventually makes a small, jerky nod. Toshinori takes it and runs with it, because he's certain that's the only thing he's going to get.

He wants to hug the boy, to tuck him close into his arms and hold him there until

"Good," The blond says, lifting one of his hands and resting it on his successor's head, ruffling the green locks. Midoriya's hair is oily and sweaty from his workout, but it was still soft, still familiar in its form and texture. No matter what happened, it was still part of him. "...now, go takes a shower and rest, young Midoriya. It's a school night."

"...fine." Midoriya's eyes flutter open. They're slightly glassy, and it makes his heart squeeze more. It feels even worse when the teen looks up at him, soft and vulnerable. "I will."

(Filthy liar.)

Midoriya steps away with a muttered goodnight. Letting to, Toshinori watches as the boy stumbles past him, bleary-eyed and heavy, and wobbles off towards the door.

It's only when his successor is out of sight that Toshinori lets his head drop, and his legs barely carry him in time to reach the bench. Elbows resting on his knees, he holds his face in his hands as he tries to breathe, to ease the crushing sensation around his heart.

I cannot keep lying to him.

.

.

.

The sky is dark and full of stars.

Wind howled in his ears; tussling his hair. He makes no move to brush away the locks in front of his face, too captivated by the view.

Here, sitting high above amongst the wind and clouds, the world seems to stretch out to infinity under his feet. Tall spires of glass and concrete rose around him, gleaming towers of color and reflecting light that illuminated the world around him further.

Despite how far up he was, how far the ground and the streets were below, the fragments of his mind were wheeling, working overtime, picking out the places where there was the highest chance of encountering conflict. Finding the nooks and crannies he could go hide in, the places where his targets were lurking.

He sits there at the edge of the abyss, quietly looking down at the streaks of color the passing cars made amongst the grey snow. Absorbing the way the light from the lampposts and the teleprompter glinted off the slick metal.

Up here, the people below looked like nothing more than tiny dots.

Katsuki places a finger over one of them, watching intensely how they disappear from his sight with the distance. After a while, a breeze forces him to blink. It's slow and lethargic.

He feels lethargic. Like a animal coming out of hibernation; a serpent, uncoiling as it wakes from it slumber.

And now, sitting here clad in his new skin, he's ready to step out of the shadows.

The dark, near black suit fits him perfectly; it's slightly baggy around his stomach and fans out on his legs, stopping just below his knees for the equally dark combat boots with orange spots and soles. His shoulders are bare to the world, the suit crawling up his torso to end in a tight, high neck collar with a orange trim -a color that curled around the edges of his suit and trailed as a straight line down the sides of the bodysuit.

Fingerless gloves made of the same material as the suit rose up to his upper arms, ending with the same orange and black trim as his neck collar. The most interesting part of the suit's contents sits on top of these gloves.

The surface of the gauntlets he was wearing was a burnished bronze, rough like sandpaper at the touch. Katsuki has forgotten the amount of time he'd ran his over the mosaic triangular designs on its surface, silently wondering why it looked so familiar, but not.

Sometimes he blinks and he thinks it's forest green, not bronze, but the image is gone as soon as he registers it.

No matter.

It fits like a glove, and that's all that was really important.

He lifts his arms, rotating his arms to aim his hands outwards as to not injure himself. Once he's certain he won't do just that, he curls his fingers upwards into the gauntlets, digs into the small handle hidden inside the items, hold it tight and pulls.

The sharpened spines of the gauntlet snap forward, sliding cross the length of Katsuki's arm to jut out like blades in front of him. The smooth, cold silver metal gleams under the cityscape lights, the slightly curving shape looking like slices of a crescent moon.

Katsuki silently examines the way the light changes when he tilts the swords around. Then he twist his fingers again.

Releases.

Snap.

The blades smoothly slide back to their original position. Katsuki lets his hands drop to his sides.

The mask on his lap is all that's left.

He looks down at it, studying its shape. The darkness of the material, how soft yet firm it was under his fingers. He turns it around to face him -stares at the sharp, narrow eye sockets in silence. The flaring, arching fins on either side, their shape a itch for his fragmented, jagged memories.

There's no orange at their tips, but he's certain there should be.

At least, there is something that faintly tickles the back of his head, whispering what it should look like.

It never clicks though, and he has to let this feeling go. He doesn't put the mask on however, instead choosing to hold it up and stare into the empty eye sockets intensely. It almost seemed to stare back, a detached, cold gaze that silently took him in his entirety, fragments and pieces and scars all for it to judge.

Masks had one purpose. To keep identities safe.

To keep that person's name a secret.

Extending his hands, he brings the mask to hover over the edge. It dangles from his fingers, barely illuminated by the stars above. Orange painted white and blue from the city lights.

He lets go.

Scarlet eyes track the way the thin cloth drifted on its way down, carried by the wind. He keeps watching until it's gone from sight, lost to him amongst the stone and glass of the cityscape.

Only then Katsuki closes his eyes.

Breathes in, breathes out.

Wing sweeps across the rooftop, brushing against the bare skin of his shoulders and arms. He barely feels it; no goosebumps rise in response. They should, but they don't. Another thing wrong with him. The list was becoming too long now to bother with.

Slowly, Katsuki opens his eyes.

"...stop feeling and just do whatever you want," He mutters to the maze of stone and glass stretched out at his feet. A siren rings out in the distance, the wailing of a police car drifting high to catch his ears. "...isn't that right?"

The city has no answer to offer him.

.

.

.

It's alright, in the end.

Katsuki knows how to rip out the truth from the unwilling.

Oh boi this chapter took a bit to work out. Demanding but fun~!

So the suitcase' contents gets revealed! I'll have a drawing of his villain/vigilante costume at one point up on tumblr if you guys want! I'm learning how to draw for the past year now after not doing it in forever and I think I'm starting to get better at this stuff. At least I hope I am lol.

We are finally picking up with the story's main plot, hurray! There's a few things that were foreshadowed in the last two chapters besides this one, I hope you guys will find em.

There's a BIG foreshadowing in the prev chapter, I wonder if it's gonna be spotted before the reveal hmm. Hint: look at the bathroom scene and the start of the chapter closely.

Anyhow, moving on!

Next chapter:

Kamino.