Chapter 1: I'll do what I must

Six months ago …

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 root cause. The symptoms are treated only to the capacity that's needed.

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, indiscriminately and remorseless in who he harmed.

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 one day, out of the blue, I discovered the truth.

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 blood on his hands from his many crimes.

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 gush over how cool my character design was because it looked just like one of the edgelord protagonists in his manga. Standing there in my dark, blood-spattered armor, in my left hand, the hilt of a blade dripping blood, and in my right, the severed head of Tomura Shigaraki 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 against 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 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 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, but there'd been none. It was that feeling of knowing the task 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 …

Hachiman Hikigaya

My legs cross over one another as I meditate. I ignore the cool cement of my cellblock against my bare leg. Save for a pair of exercise shorts; I am bare. No shoes, no shirt, and no pants.

They probably would've had me go naked if not for the intervention of my friends. No matter what the state or the HPSC wanted, the voices of several top ten heroes and about half the public still carried weight. I feel a rush of air that, by now, I know means that door to the room facing my cells is being opened.

He enters slowly, thinking that if he floats, then there will be no footsteps to hear. It's not a terrible idea and about on par for the level of subterfuge and planning that Izuku Midoriya is capable of. I don't even bother to turn and face him. "Hello, Izuku. I've turned away all visitors, and I have nothing to say to you. You may show yourself out."

Annoying Midoriya is an entertaining, if unproductive, activity. But right now, I am in the mood to indulge. I might as well. I push down the uncomfortable thought and ignore the twisting feeling in my stomach.

Right now, I know that he's frowning. Probably wringing his hands together in the way that he does when he's angry. But what's he going to do? Hurt me.

All that would accomplish is hurting his already plummeting popularity and alienating him from his peers. "You aren't the general anymore. You don't get to boss me around or tell me what to do."

I look at the white walls of my containment facility. "Could you at least get me my last meal request?"

He sighs. "Will you talk to me if I do?"

I respond with a non-committal shrug. He whooshes out, and within fifteen minutes, I'm digging into a large bowl of strawberry ice cream. I offer him a scoop, but he politely declines. I set the bowl down reluctantly and look him in the eyes. I had turned to receive my food but had elected to eat before I spoke.

"What are you really here for?" I eat another spoonful of my ice cream. His attention shifts away from the tattoo over my heart to my words. Or maybe his attention was on the scars. It was always hard to tell with people, but it hardly matters now.

"I want to know why you did it. You never explained yourself at the trial." He looks almost reproachful, like he believes that I owe him an answer.

"Because it had to be done." I reply; this same question has been asked a thousand times and a thousand ways. My response hadn't changed, though.

Any pretense of calm is gone; he stands and screams. His left hand smacked against the six-inch thick glass with a resounding thud. "YOU KILLED HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE!"

I sigh and don't bother answering his tantrum. I wait until he's slightly calmer before I cut him off. "I'm going to give you one last piece of advice. Don't waste the peace that has been achieved. Pursue that relationship with Ochako. She's not going to wait around forever. Don't be like me. Tell her that you love her."

He turns to leave but turns back to face me first. "Take your own advice. You may only have twelve hours left. But 108 people have signed in tonight trying to see you. Give them some closure.

I don't say anything in response. What I would never admit is that if I saw any of them, I would lose my resolve. I knew that my execution would hurt them. But I was selfish. I was doing it for them, but I couldn't bear how they would feel when it happened. So I did the only thing that I could, I refused visitors.

I wished so badly for another option. I was scared to die.

But there was none. I would do what I must for the greater good.