Izuku frowned at his phone. The second event was starting soon, and with the massive target painted on his back Izuku was rightfully jittery. He'd been trying to get a hold of Rumi.

She wasn't answering.

It wasn't soon enough to be worried, but still, he was worried. How could he not worry when Rumi was running around with Tomura Shigaraki? He locked his phone and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. She'll be okay. She's strong.

"Oh, there you are Midoriya!" Yaoyorozu peered around the corner of the hallway, startling him out of his skin.

He jumped, to his embarrassment, and his phone clattered across the floor.

She bounced on the balls of her feet. "Ah, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!"

Izuku flailed his arms in a panic. "No, it's okay, I'm sorry! I should have been paying attention!"

Yaoyorozu laughed lightly and scooped up his phone. The traitorous device registered her face and the lock screen lit up, though it didn't open. Yaoyorozu cooed. "Oh my, flowers?"

Izuku gulped. He'd taken a picture of the bouquet Rumi gave him and set it as his lock screen. He'd rather it be a picture of Rumi herself, but that was a terrible idea, given current events.

After a moment's study, Yaoyorozu returned his phone with a radiant smile. "I didn't take you for a romantic, Midoriya! Did you arrange those yourself?"

"Er… no, they were a… gift." Shit, shit, shit, shit, shut up. Shut UP. STOP TALKING YOU IDIOT.

"Oh! A gift to you?"

He nodded lamely. WHY? Why did you say that!?

Yaoyorozu squealed and clapped her hands together in front of her mouth. "How lovely! I'd never considered gifting flowers to a boy before." She gave him an appraising look. Then: "Say, are you familiar with the language of flowers?"

Izuku squeaked out a 'no', as he wrangled his panic. Flower language? What? He cleared his throat. "No." He repeated, more clearly this time. "Uh… Why?"

With shining eyes she gestured at his phone. "May I?"

Yaoyorozu had been nothing but supportive and kind since he met her, and she looked so excited. Izuku caved quickly and handed it over. What was the worst that could happen? He didn't have to say who the flowers were from. Right?

She quickly turned so they stood shoulder to shoulder. "So, this is a simple bouquet, which isn't a bad thing. Simpler arrangements carry stronger meaning since there's less room for misinterpretation. That's why 'I Love You' is conveyed by red roses without any accompanying flowers." She spoke matter-of-factly. Yaoyorozu seemed well versed and eager to share her knowledge.

Izuku hung on every word, wishing he had his notebook.

Gesturing at the screen with slender fingers, she continued. "Pink camellias are generally understood to represent longing or yearning. As in longing for someone else, usually the recipient of the flowers. Straightforward, right? Red camellias are passion. They convey something like 'You're a flame in my heart', but that's a fairly specific and dated meaning."

His cheeks grew warm. Rumi was passionate. So that was probably the correct interpretation of the red ones.

Yaoyorozu beamed. "Forget-me-not's have to do with memory, as the name implies, however they don't have to mean 'don't forget me'. They hold a broader meaning of 'memories' but can also be interpreted as 'true love'. In this case their meaning would depend on the context of the bouquet as a whole since there aren't many here."

"O-oh, I see. So, uh…" He drew a blank but found himself smiling despite it. "What, ah, what would you say the whole meaning is?"

"Hmm… overall, something like 'I yearn for you, want you desperately, and have loving memories of you'." She sighed happily, lost in thought for a brief moment. "I think that's incredibly beautiful, Midoriya. You're quite lucky!"

He imagined Rumi grumbling into his neck, embarrassed, but happy. I miss you, you goddamn dork, and I need you, and you turn me into a fucking hotblooded mess, but that's fine. I guess. 'Cause I kinda… sorta… love you. Nerd.

He didn't actually think the flowers were meant as a declaration of love. Rumi would have come out and said it if she felt it. It's just how she was. He knew she put a lot of thought into exactly which flowers she chose though. She just conveniently forgot to mention that different flowers meant different things. A grin worthy of All Might spread over his face. "I guess I am."

"Would Momo Yaoyorozu and Izuku Midoriya kindly report to Miss Midnight? We kinda need you two to start the second event! HELLO? IS THIS THING ON?"

"It's on, Mic." Aizawa grumped.

Yaoyorozu clapped her hands to her round cheeks. "Ah, Midoriya! Miss Midnight asked me to find you and bring you back to the arena! I got completely distracted!"

They stared at each other for a bare moment before sprinting down the hall.

Mirko had spent all of yesterday going over the plan and doing prep work with the League. She missed the entirety of the second event, but Izuku made it through to the final event which was due to start in a few hours. That was incredible, but she wasn't able to celebrate, and she wouldn't be able to watch the final event either. After realizing that, she went to bed mad and was still mad when she woke at three in the morning.

"Mmpf, five more minutes..." Toga mumbled, snuggling into Mirko's chest. The blonde girl, buck naked, was wrapped around her like an octopus. Toga probably had more to do with that early bird anger than the sports festival did. Probably.

Mirko's eyelid twitched. That Toga could slither into her bed without waking her wasn't surprising, but it was alarming and infuriating. Mirko had deliberately crashed in one of Kurogiri's spare rooms to keep Toga from stalking her to her flat. Mirko liked her flat and preferred to keep it as it was now: free from bloodstains. She knew, she goddamn knew that Toga was going to pull some weird shit like this. Lo and behold, she was right.

The irritation faded as Mirko was taken with a sudden curiosity. While mostly asleep, Toga wouldn't be messing with her senses at all. This might be a good chance to channel her inner nerd. Her eyes roamed.

There wasn't a single scar, freckle, or stretch mark to be seen on Toga's snowy skin. A lonely fang poked out of her mouth, jutting over her bottom lip.

Cute. Mirko carefully righted Toga's lip.

With her mouth closed, there were no indicators that Toga even had fangs. Her heartbeat was quiet and soft, instead of the clearly defined one-two-one-two most people had. Her lungs worked in absolute silence.

Mirko closely watched Toga's chest for movement. She was breathing, slow and shallow, almost imperceptibly. A far cry from the panting, slobbering mess she was on the day they met.

An idea was forming. Slowly craning her neck down, Mirko pressed her nose to the top of Toga's head. She smelled like exactly nothing. Not even like a person fresh out of the shower, just, nothing at all. Her scent, if she even had one, could just be described as the scent of the room. No scent of blood. Weird.

Overall, she looked healthy, if squishy. Mirko kneaded at the pale thigh slung over her hips. Definitely squishy. She thought, noting how far her fingers sunk into Toga's flesh before she felt muscle. The muscle she did feel was dense, unexpectedly so.

Mirko frowned. Unnaturally flawless skin. No blemishes means no identifying marks. No scent and no sound: she's hard for most people to detect. Jaw is built around the fangs, no trace when her mouth is closed. Squishy body, but deceptively strong. Yellow eyes, but that doesn't really stand out in a crowd. Pupils look round normally but contract to slits in bright light. Mirko wondered where exactly Toga's quirk ended and where her body began. She's pretty. Mirko eyed the curve of Toga's hip. Has sex appeal. Built to blend in, but also attract.

While technically an emitter, Toga had a lot of heteromorphic traits. Or maybe it was just her body, Mirko wasn't a biologist or anything. Final verdict: Toga was tailor made to stalk, ambush, and slip away into darkness. Probably adapted to prey on men, given the unnerving lack of anything that was conventionally "unattractive". It was like someone took her out of a male sexual fantasy, gave her fangs, the ability to shapeshift, and a literal bloodlust, then set her loose to prey on the people that would fetishize her. How incredibly odd, not to mention specific. Lost in thought, Mirko kept kneading at Toga's thigh.

The blonde groaned, shifting her hips. "Mmm… babe…"

Suddenly aware of the sensation of bareness, Mirko clenched her jaw. Searching around with her free arm, she pulled a scrap of fabric out from under herself. The inquisitive feeling left, and she seethed quietly. Her hand curled around Toga's slender throat.

The blonde sighed happily.

Mirko squeezed.

The girls face reddened. She bit her lip and pressed herself into Mirko's side. It took a minute, but Toga eventually realized that this wasn't foreplay. Her eyes opened wide when her lungs started to burn. Seconds became minutes. She began to struggle. Her face grew purple. "Ghrrk!" Toga thrashed and gurgled unintelligibly. Drool streamed off her wriggling tongue. Her legs kicked erratically as she clawed at Mirko's hand.

"Good morning, Himiko." Mirko purred, catching both of Toga's wrists in her left hand and dragging them off to the side. "Would you happen to know who cut off my underwear while I was sleeping?"

Hours later, as Mirko was leaving the bar, she caught a glimpse of the deep purpled bruising on Toga's throat. She would have felt bad but – funny thing, this – she had forgotten that Toga got off on getting her ass kicked the last time they met. If anything, Toga was now more enamored with her. So yes, she did regret strangling Toga until she lost consciousness, but not for the reasons most people would regret doing such a thing. Wait, what the fuck is wrong with me? How is this even close to okay? You're supposed to be a hero, you bitch!

Hours later, Mirko sat behind the wheel of an up-armored Hino Profia which was decked out in Shingen colors. It was a genuine company vehicle that Shigaraki had somehow pulled out of his ass. She didn't want to question it.

Where the hell had her life had gone off the rails? Was it when Hawks got blown to bits? Not like it fucking matters anymore. She spun the wheel, putting the truck through a turn that was too tight for it. The whole thing lurched violently as the trailer rolled over a curb.

She swore. Mirko knew how to drive an actual car, but a semitrailer? Fucking Shigaraki. Of course, the bastard conned her into driving the goddamn thing while the others did their thing far, far away. She ran into no trouble on the five-hour drive to Shinjuku. Traffic parted around her like a school of tuna avoiding a shark. No one wanted to risk a fender bender with Big Scary Shingen. By the time she made it to the outskirts of town, traffic was nonexistent.

Fat beads of sweat rolled down Mirko's neck, where they were wicked away by the collar of her disguise. The grey fatigues were surprisingly comfortable, but she could do without the rigid plate carrier and the additional bits of ceramic armor strapped to her arms and legs. The fully enclosed ballistic helmet was particularly stifling and made her ears ache.

The truck rumbled to a slow stop at the next intersection. Her destination was straight ahead. Just on the other side of the intersection, after a few kilometers of open road, was the BioMed facility. Simple. Still, Mirko strangled the steering wheel with a white-knuckle grip. She forced a calming breath. The perimeter of the property was demarked by a thick concrete wall, with all manner of deterrents on it. From tight coils of razor wire to security cameras, guard towers, and armed drones. Pretty heavily fortified for such an upstanding pillar of the Japanese community.

There were two entrances. The main gate, for employees; and the freight entrance, for trucks like this one. She wasn't going to the loading dock though. She was driving straight through the checkpoint at the gate and then to the power sub-station. The checkpoint itself consisted of two squat guard towers with a row of automatic bollards in between them.

This is absolutely fucking insane. I've officially lost it.

The light changed.

Rumi floored it.

The truck was surprisingly nimble for something so large, and so heavily loaded. It was pushing a hundred and thirty kph by the time she reached the checkpoint.

One of the guards waved both arms, trying to get her to slow down.

She didn't.

The bollards, thick steel posts filled with concrete, emerged from the roadbed. When they were about halfway extended, they stopped, and dropped back into their housings as if they'd been hammered down.

Rumi snarled into her radio as the truck blew through the checkpoint. "Fuckin' cutting it close 'Giri!"

"Do not worry, you have not deviated from the timetable. Please continue as planned."

A guard in one of the towers started shooting, because of course that was appropriate level of escalation. The armored cab shuddered under the incoming fire.

"FUCK!"

The mess of loose wires dangling from the steering wheel sparked. Mirko was glad that she'd had the foresight to rip out the airbag. She'd trashed most of the electronics in the cab actually. The GPS, the ComSat transceiver, the autonomous vehicle brain-box, all of it. Except for the radio. Rumi cranked the volume.

-HURT TILL IT STOPS,

I CAN'T KEEP MY GRIP, I'M SLIPPING -

A four-door technical – which had concealed behind the checkpoint – raced up to the side of the truck. Both the gunner and rear passenger hosed down the side of the cab with bullets. The ballistic window withstood the attack. Barely.

Mirko jerked the wheel to the right, smashing the technical off the road. She didn't look after it, instead unbuckling her seatbelt and looping it through the steering wheel to keep the truck going in a straight line.

Angry emergency lights flashed all across the compound. Rumi faintly heard a klaxon over the anguished howling of the nine-liter diesel being redlined.

A trio of waspish drones buzzed overhead, raining five-millimeter fire down on the truck.

Rumi flattened herself on the seat and pinned the accelerator under a floor mat. Only seconds left. "'GIRI! NOW!"

A violet portal swirled open just in front of her.

She lunged.

Conservation of momentum applied through Kurogiri's quirk, so she careened through the exit portal at frightful speeds. Mirko touched down hard, bouncing, and skidding down a long and brightly lit hallway. She smashed into the wall at the end and fell in a heap. "Mother… fucker…"

After forcing herself to her knees, she pulled a Clacker off her belt and squeezed it twice.

Clear across the BioMed compound, the truck detonated, just as it crashed into the first row of transformers. The shockwave ripped through the compound, rattling her teeth. This building – the main research facility – shook so violently that the earthquake mitigation built into it was momentarily overcome. The floor heaved, throwing Mirko into the air. She crashed down again, cradling her head.

The power flickered and died. On the walls, amber hazard lights switched on, highlighting the path to the nearest exit.

"Warning: Main power - Offline. Activating backup generator. Facility lockdown is now in effect. All personnel are to remain at duty stations." A metallic voice announced.

A second, smaller blast shook the building. That'd be Shigaraki, right on time.

"Warning: Backup generator - Offline. Activating emergency reactor. Activating drone swarm. Activating loss prevention teams. Activating electronic countermeasures. Please secure all intellectual property and report to your immediate supervisor. Tier 1 staff may proceed to evacuation routes. All other staff must provide two forms of identification and authorization from the office of The Director before exiting the facility."

Mirko knelt in the dark hallway. Feral laughter forced its way out of her. It just kept coming, and coming, and coming, until tears pooled against the lenses of her ballistic mask.

Outside, the plume of fire and smoke could be seen all the way from the Chiba slums, clear across Tokyo Bay.

News of the explosion in Shinjuku spread rapidly. Shingen Corporate Headquarters provided a barebones statement on the issue, claiming the blast was caused by the rupture of a hydrogen accumulation reservoir in an automated facility. No casualties were reported. Beyond that, no one had any idea of what was going on. According to the news, corporate security was refusing heroes, police, and first responders' entry to the property. They were within their legal right to do so as a corporation, and so all anyone could do was speculate. Rumors that it was an attack, rather than an accident, quickly formed. Public anxiety was mounting.

Izuku tried texting Rumi again. No response. He blocked out the chatter of his classmates as he thought. Everything was fine, he reminded himself. She was in Kamino, not Shinjuku. Besides that, it had only been a few days. She promised to call by the end of the week. There was still time.

She probably IS in Shinjuku… Think about it. Is Rumi the kind of person to intentionally worry others? She isn't a liar, but wouldn't she hold back information to 'protect' the people she loves? Way back, she told you that she was leaving but she didn't say why or where she was going. She played it off. And now she holds herself responsible for the death of five thousand people.

The toxic little voice was back, gnawing away at his confidence. He grimaced and reached across the bond with a flicker of One for All. Nothing had come across yesterday, or today, but he could still feel Rumi on the other end. She felt calm and still. A bit colder than usual, but not alarmingly so. Izuku sighed, somewhat relieved.

The final event of the sports festival had been delayed while Principal Nezu and the faculty conversed. After approximately a half hour of deliberation, Principal Nezu announced that the third event would progress as planned, while seated atop one of All Might's giant shoulders. Behind All Might stood Endeavor, Ryukyu, Best Jeanist, and most of the high-profile members of the UA faculty. People murmured about so many of the Top Ten remaining at the UA Arena when they could be on their way to Shinjuku already. It's not like they can do anything about it. Why are companies even allowed to turn away heroes? It's absurd.

"Hey, Midoriya, you okay?" Mineta nudged him in the side.

Kirishima sat next to the smaller boy. "Yeah, you've had this really intense look for a while. Everything alright man?"

He shook himself out of his spiral of negative thoughts. "Oh, yeah. Sorry guys. It's just… It's stressful, right?"

Ashido gasped. "Oh no! Do you know anyone in Shinjuku?" She leaned around Kirishima with concern shining in her large black eyes.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just… I wish I could do something, you know?" On his other side, Ochaco bumped her shoulder into his.

She smiled softly. "All Might did say that he'd leave for Shinjuku the instant they started letting heroes in. I'm sure everything will be okay, right Deku?"

Mirko, still disguised, marched down the hall, through a swarm of panicking white-collar workers. They avoided her like death itself. The bright yellow stripe down her right arm, which denoted her as a sergeant, probably helped. So did the rifle held across her chest. The BioMed facility didn't look like much from the air, but it extended deep underground. At least a kilometer beneath the surface according to the old plans they had.

She was supposed to meet up with the others at the central elevator bank on the first sub-level. They were going to take a maintenance elevator to the lowest floor that officially existed. From there they were going to hijack a massive freight elevator, which would take them all the way to the bottom.

Mirko ducked into a now empty office. "'Giri, drop me." A narrow portal opened on the floor and she hopped through, neatly bypassing eight stories.

Mirko emerged in a server room in the upper security nexus for the facility. Her disguise seemed to be holding, because no one stopped her, or even looked twice, as she navigated the maze of hallways. With a flash of her fake credentials, she was allowed access to the Command Information Center. The room was humming with low conversation and tense energy, in stark contrast to the near panic in the floors above. Fifteen people were looking for her and the others with a myriad of high-tech tools. All of them were armed to the teeth, wearing the same kit she wore. Not a single pasty intern in a stained oxford to be seen. She supposed that was a good thing. No non-combatants. Don't think about it.

Three more entered behind her, footfalls surprisingly soft on the slick floor. They stood abreast with her, two on the right and one on the left. The doors locked behind her.

Mirko closed her eyes. Just, don't think about it. Don't think at all. She clamped down tightly on the link, sealing it. Izuku could never know about this.

Urgent emotions, from that third party between Izuku and her, pushed at her. Sorrow. Horror. Desperation.

Rumi kept her eyes closed as the bloodbath raged around her. Thank god for the red lighting, because when she finally opened her eyes, she was able to ignore the gore pooling on the floor, soaking into the furniture, and dripping off the walls. Almost. Bile rose in Mirko's throat.

Shigaraki pressed his finger pads to his helmet. It crumbled to dust, revealing his pallid face.

On her right, Toga and Kurogiri removed their helmets.

Mirko kept hers on. "Hurry the fuck up."

Shigaraki's fingers rattled across a keyboard, as he dredged up the most up-to-date layout of the building. He'd already disintegrated most of his disguise, leaving only the fatigues and boots untouched. Father's hand covered his face once more.

Toga looted the dead, gathering knives and grenades while humming a cheery tune.

Kurogiri tended to Mirko, stripping her armor. "Are you well, Rumi Usagiyama?" He asked quietly.

The plate carrier clattered to the floor. "No. I want to go home, 'Giri." I am so, so fucking not okay. She peeled out of her fatigues, leaving her in her bunny suit. The taste of blood seeped into the back of her throat when the respirator came off. Mirko nearly retched.

"I see." With Mirko's armor removed, Kurogiri simply opened and closed a series of tiny portals, tidily snipping himself out of his own disguise.

A metallic click caught her attention. She turned.

One of the guards was still alive. He leveled a pistol at Mirko's head.

Toga was on him in an instant. Her knife cut a silvery arc through the air, slicing cleanly through the guard's wrist. His hand, and the gun, fell to the floor. Enraged, she stabbed him. "Mirko," stab, "is," stab, "Mine!" She stabbed the poor fucker at least a dozen more times after that.

Detach. Breathe and detach. Don't freak out. Where are you? What can you see? What can you feel? Mirko, with excruciating care, steered herself away from an anxiety attack.

There was a pop and a hiss. Shigaraki cursed and shot out of his seat as a wave of heat and sparks shot out of the computer he'd been working at. Every other computer in the room followed suit.

Toga cocked her head. "Uh… was that supposed to happen?"

Mirko stepped forward, latching to the opportunity to look at something other than gory bits of meat. A familiar acrid stench – burnt aluminum and hydrochloric acid – made her eyes water. "Problem." She nudged the tower with her boot, toppling it. The heat warped side-panel clattered off, revealing the twisted and blackened guts of the computer. "Slagged the drives. Stinks like TH3. Probably got every computer in the building, up here at least. You able to get anything?"

Shigaraki had been pulling up the current plans to the facility when the charges went off. "No," he snarled, "but this dump runs a hell of a lot deeper than we thought."

Toga looked hopeful. "Oh. Well, we can still get where we need to go, right Mr. Kurogiri?"

"Apologies, Himiko Toga, but I cannot transport us to a place I have never been without proper coordinates."

"Aw man, we have to take the stairs?" Toga tossed her head back and groaned before flopping into a desk chair. "That's so lame, there are so many!"

Mirko tuned everyone out and focused outward. She thought she heard… "Fuck, we have to go, now. Backup's here."

Toga immediately popped out of her seat, starry eyed. "I'm ready, what's the plan Mirko?"

"Same as before: Personnel elevator, freight elevator, then spring our mystery friend."

A hollow metallic bang sounded through the door.

"'Giri, get us out of here!"

A portal ripped open, and the League tumbled through just as a shaped charge blew open the security room doors. A wave of heat and fire licked at their heels, and the portal winked shut.

"C'mon, let's sprint this bitch and get the fuck out!"

"Hi! My name is Itsuka Kendo, it's nice to meet you."

Not expecting the introduction, Izuku stared dumbly at the redheads calloused hand, and then scrambled to shake it once his brain caught up.

"Right, s-sorry! I'm Izuku Midoriya."

"Oh, I know who you are." She chirped. "Lets agree to do our best, okay?"

"Oh yeah," Miss Midnight cracked her whip, "now THAT is the kind of sportsmanship I wanna see. Do you both fully understand the rules of the third event?"

Izuku nodded with a grimace while doing his best to ignore the billions of eyes on him.

Kendo grinned and gave Midnight a thumbs up.

"Excellent! Fighters, you may take your positions!"

"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Our first match of the day is a battle of Presidential proportions! Man, election season really snuck up on us, didn't it? In one corner, we have ITSUKA KENDO, class rep of Heroics 1-B and the only one that can get Neito Monoma to shut up!"

Kendo coughed loudly to disguise her embarrassed snickering. "Er… what?"

"Ugh, Mic… I thought we talked about this" Midnight pinched the bridge of her nose.

"IN THE OTHER CORNER! The battle-hardened leader of those Lionhearts in Heroics 1-A, the Top Dog, the one you can always depend on, the Broccoli Brainiac, IZUKU MIDO-urk!"

Abruptly, the sounds of a brief scuffle echoed over the speakers, followed by the high-pitched shriek of microphone feedback. There was a moment of confused silence, and then:

"Itsuka Kendo, Class 1-B versus Izuku Midoriya, Class 1-A." Mr. Aizawa said blandly. "Fight."

The League had made it to the personnel elevator with little issue. Things got dicey when the doors slid open at the bottom. They came out at a chokepoint with an ungodly number of quirks and guns aimed right at them. Kurogiri's intervention was the only thing that kept them from being mulched on the spot. He shielded them with a portal, turning the spray of lead and baleful blue fire around on the guards. Return to sender. Curiously, all the guards down here seemed to have the same quirk, one that emitted an insanely hot blue-white fire. At first, Rumi thought they were using flamethrowers, but they had no such kit. Questions for another time.

The League rallied, blitzing through security as fast as humanly possible, until they hit the next roadblock.

Mirko toppled a concrete column and dove behind it.

Shigaraki tumbled to the floor next to her.

Grabbing him by the collar, Mirko hauled him around, so they were face to face. "I warned you!" She roared over the earth-shaking B-R-R-R-T of a thirty-millimeter autocannon, "I fucking warned you! I said this was suicide!" The cannon was mounted on the ceiling, and they hadn't seen it. Mirko heard the hydraulic motor in it spooling up just before it opened fire. Why that goddamn thing was pointing deeper into the facility instead of towards the entrance had some unnerving implications. Regardless, her ears saved them from an untimely death once again.

Heavy tungsten rounds made quick work of their cover, pulverizing the concrete at a frightening rate. The torrent of death stopped abruptly.

"Reloading!" A smattering of small arms fire pelted their position. Hissing jets of blue fire encroached.

Mirko lunged out of cover, darting across the room. "Move, you fucking idiot!"

"Fight."

Katsuki fired off immediately, intending to end the match the instant it started. Rules were rules, so he pulled his punches, or punch, in this case. The arena was obscured by a cloud of thick smoke. Combustion inefficiency – the smoke – was an unavoidable part limiting the force of a large scale blast.

A sticky pink tongue darted in from the side and snared his forearm. It was elastic and strong.

"The fuck- goddamn frog!" Frogger was a sneaky one and she was stronger than she looked. He idly wondered if that was why she hung around Deku so much. Using what he'd observed over the last five weeks of class, Katsuki aimed his second explosion at the most probable spot for her to be in. "DIE!" The blast briefly cleared the smoke. Katsuki had been right about the location, but not the height.

Asui was splayed on the ground, just a few meters away.

He made eye contact.

Already crouched, Asui's legs were primed for her to jump. She did.

Katsuki jolted to the side, but somehow, some way, the goddam frog-faced girl predicted which direction he'd dodge in. He wheezed as he took the double-barreled kick straight to the chest. For an instant, Asui's green hair was snowy white, and her determined grimace was replaced by Rumi's cocksure snarl.

He swore, threw both of his hands behind him, and fired off a crackling burst of explosions to arrest his momentum. He skidded to a halt. Glancing down, his heels were just millimeters from the white line at the edge of the ring. The fucking frog- Asui had almost won on a technicality. "The fuck?!"

"I don't expect to win against you, Bakugo." She'd retracted her tongue and stood in a loose defensive stance. "But I won't just roll over for you because you're strong. I'm worth more than that." She croaked.

Katsuki's brow twitched. "Eh? The fuck are you on about, Frogger?"

"My name is Tsuyu Asui. Don't forget it."

Shuichi Iguchi didn't know how long he'd been in his cell. He'd lost count of the days after twenty or so. There were no windows down here. No clocks. They even fed him at irregular times. He stopped trying to talk to his jailors around the same time, when he finally accepted that they weren't going to let him out, or even react to his pleas. That, and they were fucking terrifying.

What little he could see through the air holes in the solid cell door made up his entire world. Shuichi was scared of what he saw. Other prisoners came and went. Or rather, new prisoners came in all the time. All wearing the same white straitjacket he wore. The ones that left never came back. On occasion, he heard screaming. It never lasted for very long. He didn't know if that was good or bad.

But he did know he was going to die down here.

It was a fitting end. A shitty, lonely death to close out a shitty, lonely life. There wasn't a soul that would miss him. Or even know he was gone. He hadn't accomplished anything to even be remembered by. The second he graduated from middle school he got a crappy job, a crappier apartment, and spent the next six years playing video games and jerking off. He was still a virgin for gods sake. He hadn't even seen a pair of real tits!

Just as he was contemplating whether or not he could somehow hang himself with one of the straps on his straitjacket, the whole building rumbled. He knew he was deep underground, so he assumed it was an earthquake. It happened from time to time.

"Warning: Main power - Offline. Activating backup generator. Facility lockdown is now in effect. All personnel are to remain at duty stations."

Shuichi's brows shot up. That was new. He struggled up to his feet – which was pretty hard without functioning arms – and mashed his face against the cell door, peering through one of the little holes. The overhead lights were out, and they'd never been turned off since he'd first been put here. Smaller, dimmer lights, dull orange in color, flickered to life.

Heavy booted feet tromped by. Shingen troops. A whole lot of them. Jackbooted assholes.

"I don't care what cut the power," a woman in a suit said as she crossed the room, "work continues as scheduled. It's security's problem, not yours, understand?"

"I- b-but Director, with main power down the cryovault can only maintain temperature f-for an hour. At most!"

The Director sighed. "I know, Dr. Kanshi. Believe me, I know. Repair crews are already en-route to the power plant and corporate has been notified. There won't be any breaches. Just keep your staff occupied-"

A second explosion cut the Director off. It didn't feel as strong, but it did sound way closer to the prison.

"Warning: Backup generator - Offline. Activating emergency reactor. Activating drone swarm. Activating loss prevention teams. Activating electronic countermeasures. Please secure all intellectual property and report to your immediate supervisor. Tier 1 staff may proceed to evacuation routes. All other staff must provide two forms of identification and authorization from the office of The Director before exiting the facility."

Shuichi's jaw dropped about a meter. Just what in the hell was going on!?

Dr. Kanshi looked on the verge of panicking. "O-oh god, t-that was the auxiliary power station, they're inside!"

"Get it together." The Director snapped. "They are of no consequence. Captain Hakai, annihilate anything that makes it down here."

"Ma'am," was all the captain said. His response was accompanied by the soft clatter of a dozen safeties on a dozen rifles being toggled.

The now unpowered magnetic locks on Shuichi's cell door released. The door slid open with a whisper. So did every other cell door, apparently. There had to be a hundred of them, spread out across this floor and the four above it. Shuichi made eye contact with the Director, who looked just as confused as he felt.

A split second later, she roared. "Activate the Wardens!"

All hell broke loose. Prisoners scrambled out of their cells. Shuichi made a break for it. Everyone else was doing it, so maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that he'd slip by. If he didn't make it, then dying on his feet sounded more appealing to rolling over for these assholes.

The Wardens descended from the ceiling. There were six in total. With ruthless efficiency, they began to slaughter every prisoner who wasn't in a cell.

Shuichi had somehow gotten his arms free and was scrambling towards the nearest door when one of the Wardens smashed into him.

It – because it definitely wasn't a person – screeched in the most horrific way as it gnashed its jaw in Shuichi's face. He was barely strong enough to keep the monster at bay. Its exposed skull was cracked and blackened, like it had been carved from a pile of embers. It smoldered with dim blue light.

Suddenly, Shuichi didn't want to die. He railed against the burning monster, pushing with all his might. It wasn't working. The thing on top of him was inhumanly strong and the blasted heat was so taxing.

Just before his arms gave out, the tremendous steel doors at the entrance to the cell block were kicked in. Literally. The hinges – each as big around as Shuichi's torso – tore free from the wall as the doors cratered, then failed, and then were launched clear across the cell block. In mid-air, amongst a cloud of shrapnel, was Mirko. The Mirko. With long brown legs carved from granite, snow white hair, and slender, fluffy rabbit ears.

The six Wardens shrieked in unison. It was a long and wavering tone that ripped at the edges of Shuichi's sanity. As one, they rushed Mirko with singular purpose.

She touched down lightly, as though she hadn't just used a simple kick to demolish a door that could shame a bank vault.

The rioting prisoners, the overwhelmed guards, the Director, his own freedom, all was forgotten as he watched Mirko move. She was untouchable. Darting around, faster than he could see at times, she stomped the Wardens with imperious disdain. Mirko wasn't alone either. A blonde with an angelic complexion flickered in and out of Mirko's shadow, slaughtering anything that dared get close. A nebulous purple mist, with acid yellow slashes for eyes, created swarms of portals to redirect any and all ranged attacks.

A spear and a shield, wielded by Mirko to devastating effect.

There was another. A tall and slender man, with a white hand latched over his face. He turned everything he touched to dust. At times, he stood back-to-back with Mirko, but more often he darted across the battlefield, sowing chaos and ruin wherever he went.

All six Wardens were eliminated in short order. Mirko made them look utterly incompetent, so unlike the immolated body horrors that had given Shuichi nightmares for weeks.

Then and there, as Mirko and her League annihilated the people who wrongly imprisoned him, Shuichi swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to join the League stand at Mirko's side. Even if it killed him.

For giving my life back, I WILL follow you, Mirko!

"I'm sorry Iida. I'm sorry you feel that way, but you have it all wrong. You aren't in my shadow. I'm in yours! I'm trying to surpass you, and everyone else. I have to." Midoriya shifted his stance ever so slightly. "I have to show the world that I. Am. Here."

"You're already so far above us Midoriya, you've already improved so much! How can you expect me, expect us to believe that?" Tenya panted. He was tired. His last match had taken a large chunk of his endurance. He couldn't give up. Not when Ingenium was watching. No, he had to win. Only… he didn't think he was going to win, not anymore. Midoriya was just so… so strong!

"It's because of you that I am where I am today. You, and all of our friends." Lightning flared and crackled, growing in intensity as Midoriya prepared himself for the next – the last – attack. "I know it looks like I've grown leaps and bounds, and I have, but I have no choice, Iida. My quirk developed less than a year ago. Only now am I able to use it without destroying my body. I've grown so much, and come so far, because of all the people that helped me grow. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you."

Tears prickled at the corner of Tenya's eyes as the raw honesty in Midoriya's words resonated with his heart. Only… Only a year? His throat tightened. "You… honor me, Midoriya, in a way that I do not deserve. You really are something else entirely."

Midoriya smiled, both sad and happy. "I have to be, Iida, because I am here."

They charged at the same time. Tenya shifted up to the highest gear he could manage with a blisteringly fast Recipro Burst. Midoriya deserved the very best that Tenya could manage. Anything less would be disrespectful in the extreme.

Midoriya caught Tenya's leg against his chest, torqued his body around at the waist – in the same direction that Tenya had been kicking – and hurled Tenya out of the ring with an almighty bellow.

"WINNER: IZUKU MIDORIYA BY RINGOUT!"

Author's Note:

Momo and Izuku are dorks. She's one to respect the privacy of others though, so she won't pry or gossip.

Toga being Toga, nothing unusual, but man, that response from Mirko seemed excessive, didn't it? :^) And bombing a corporate property with a semi-trailer full of explosives doesn't seem terribly heroic. :^)

Public anxiety goes up, and the faith in heroes goes down. Such is life.

Izuku and Rumi live in very, very different worlds.

Tsuyu isn't here to fuck around. She's here to earn the respect that she deserves. She's growing, and so is Katsuki, and goddamn is it a beautiful sight.

Spinner arrives on the scene. Interesting that he should want to be involved with the League pre-Stain.

Iida and Izuku have a small broment. He doesn't resent Izuku's progress at all, rather he admires it, but he also wants to do his brother and his family proud.