Chapter 1: The end of my story is as wrong as the beginning.

Three weeks ago …

Samaritan aka Hachiman Hikigaya

I did not hate Tomura Shigaraki (aka Tenko Shimura) at least not at first. I viewed him as a symptom of the disease. Something that needed to be addressed by curing the root cause. From his demeanor to his dress, it all portrayed him as a screwed-up child, lashing out at the world.

So I did not hate him; at least not very much. Doctors don't hate or focus on the symptoms, they deal with the virus, parasite, bacteria, chemical agent, or genetic component that causes it. The symptoms are dealt with only to the capacity that's needed before attacking the root cause.

That was until the first time I saw the true scope of his insanity. Hearing the screams as he disintegrated the people below us was like nothing else I'd ever felt. I had responded to disasters, even though I'd faced the worst humanity had to offer. Until I saw him decay a city and its people to dust. They didn't deserve what was done to them and they had done nothing to him but he still killed them.

At that moment he went from an abused child lashing out to make himself feel better. To a monstrous adult aware of the hurt that he's spreading and reveling in it. After that, I had no sympathy for him and was disgusted by him, but I still did not hate him.

I didn't hate him when he poisoned Bakugo. Or when he threatened me. Or after what he did to Haruno. To me, he was just another impediment to peace.

Until out of the blue one day, I discovered.

I realized that I hated Tomura Shigaraki. I don't know when in my mind his death went from an inevitable event to an anticipated one, but at some point, it became so. I didn't want to hate him but I did.

Izuku had found a connection with him, and believed that he could be saved. He told us that inside Tomura was 'poor little Tenko still waiting to be rescued.

Maybe there was a piece of that boy left inside, but it was eaten away. Not by his quirk and the tragedy it caused, but by each choice and action he took. He wasn't born a monster, but whoever he was before was buried by the scum that he had become.

Izuku was the one who saw any humanity in him, not me. Maybe, I would have more sympathy to spare if I had been given a myriad of bullshit powerful quirks by the world's greatest hero. Probably not, I'm stronger now but my sympathy is just as weak.

Powerful or powerless, I was still a prick. That was just my nature, no amount of strength would've changed that fact.

I held no sympathy for the devil; the only thing I would give them is a swift death.

If young Zaimokuza could hear me now, he would probably cream his Chuuni pants. He would also hush over how cool my character design was because looked just like one of the edgelord characters in his manga. Standing there in my dark, blood-spattered armor, the hilt of blood dripping blade in my left hand, and the severed head of Tomura Shigaraki in my right, suspended by the hair.

The barrels of about forty guns were trained on me, and worse yet several deadly quirks locked onto my person. The guns were hardly an issue in my armor, besides I was fast enough to kill all those holding them in the better part of a minute. However, the pissed-off Izuku glowing with power, his fist aimed at me; now, that could be a problem.

~/~

The slaying was not my first time; I didn't puke after, as they cuffed me and dragged me into the back of a police van. I didn't try to plead my innocence to my friends or explain why I had done what I had done. I kept my head straight, my eyes forward, and let myself be arrested peacefully.

I felt an array of emotions once I did the deed.

This wasn't like beating a video game boss, satisfaction, relief, and joy. A sense of accomplishment that just radiates itself out from your core. The way that kids who thought they wanted to be snipers when they grew up imagined it to be.

Nor was it like the deaths I had caused by accident. A villain who just won't stay down, a punch that was thrown a little too hard, or a jump that they thought that they could make while escaping. Those deaths always came with crushing regret, the kind that I could never let go of. No matter how many times I was told that it wasn't my fault.

Finally, it wasn't like when I'd taken my cat to get euthanized. Kamakura had metastasized an enormous tumor throughout an inoperable portion of his abdomen. The veterinarian had told me how much pain he was in and I made a call. I had taken him home so that my family could spend one more night petting and snuggling with him, before bringing him back to the vet alone; the next day.

After the deed was done, I removed my hand from his head. I had kept on petting him for a few minutes after his heart had stopped beating just in case he could still feel it. I knew it was silly but I didn't want him to feel scared or alone when he died. All I felt then, was sadness but took comfort from knowing that this was the best option. Any other choice would have prolonged his suffering.

No, it was none of those, it was instead the feeling I had when a mission I'd had once, to help excavate the ruins of a blown-up hospital maternity wing, had been finished. By the time it was done Yukinoshita was quietly sobbing, Yui was just frozen, and Bakugo had thrown up twice. I had kept on digging trying to find any survivors, there'd been none. It was that feeling of knowing the task had needed doing and being the one to complete it but hating every second of it, and yourself once you were finished.

But I would do it a thousand times, for them, for her. So that they wouldn't ever have to bloody their hands. So that future generations wouldn't have to face the monsters of the past.

What I'd done was a good thing, so why couldn't I stop the tears from falling?

~/~

Present Day …

Yukishiro aka Yukino Yukinoshita

He shuffled into the courtroom, his movements calm and coordinated. He looked down at his flip-flop-clad feet, they were unwilling to give him anything he could use as a weapon. I can't say that I blame the hero commission for the way they're handling him, if there's one thing that I know about Hachiman Hikigaya is that he is one of the most slippery opponents you could face.

Matchups against him that should've been a walk in the park, became visceral struggles so intense that you could never forget them. The last time he had fought a villain, he had almost blown himself up in order to avoid having his neck broken.

After he killed a man he kept his head high; so why now would he meet no one's eyes?

We would try to find out, but it was no guarantee even with our surprise advantage. I straightened up and stared him down. Even if he wouldn't look at me, I would gaze at him. To try and let him know that I … well … I honestly don't know what I would try and tell him.

My feelings for him were so conflicted and varied that it was more a question of what I didn't want to tell him. I wanted to hit him for being so stupid, yell at him for making me worry, and hug him for taking the revenge that I couldn't.

As I examined him, I was horrified to see bruises on his arms and the tell-tale signs of fighting etched on his knuckles. Everyone in the hero community had pleaded against leaving him in the lowest section of Tartarus. We all knew that regardless of who claimed that prisoners never left their cells, someone would go after Hikigaya. The guards walking him forward were at least gentle, probably motivated both by his legendary reputation and public opinion.

The public was extremely split on his actions, some going as far as to call him the Ultimate Hero while others denounced hero society as a whole and tried to make Shigaraki into a martyr.

The judge banged his gavel, and the other top heroes and I turned to face him. The courtroom was filled with many of the most powerful people in the world. But no cameras, due to the sensitive nature of the information discussed. Hence why the jury was of his peers, other elite heroes who they hoped would be less biased.

Though in honesty, many of us were his classmates and friends. No matter what, I refused to see him executed for what he did.

"All rise, the trial of Samaritan aka Hachiman Hikigaya, will now commence. He stands accused of crimes against humanity, crimes that violate the hero's agreements, and treason. How does the defendant plead?"

"Guilty, your honor." He smiled and ignored the rest of us, looking only at the judge.

Wait … what? Is he not even going to try and defend himself? Frost formed on the armrests of my chairs as I actively worked to reign in my powers.

"WAIT!" A voice cried out, interrupting Hikigaya's confession.

(A/N): and that's part one finished. The story will flashback to various parts of his formative years but it will not always go chronologically. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm very excited to write more and this chapter is just the tip of the iceberg.

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