Good Friends

by ijustwanttodestroy

"I didn't mean to do that," Ochako says. "I swear, oh fuck, fuck, I didn't mean to do that—I'm sorry, I'm sorry—" "Calm down," Izuku says. [An unfortunate accident happens in the final weeks before they graduate UA. Fortunately, good friends are not that hard to come by if you are in the notorious class A. And you know what they say about good friends and dead bodies.]

TW: gore, explicit language, implied/referenced sexual assault attempt (not explicit)

---

"I didn't mean to do that," Ochako says. "I swear, oh fuck, fuck, I didn't mean to do that—I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"Calm down," Izuku says.

"—I'm sorry, oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't mean to, I didn't—"

"Calm down!" Izuku snaps. And then, softer, "Calm down. It's all right, Ochako. I know—we know … you didn't mean to.." Midoriya's voice trails. Shaky. "It was. It was an—"

An accident. But It wasn't. They all know that. It wasn't.

Tenya is still crouched down, a hand poised on the man's neck. His visor is down, showing his pale face as he looks up at them. "He's dead," Tenya says.

Ochako makes a strangled sound. The three of them stand still, stiller than the corpse going cold at their feet. Even without Tenya checking for his pulse, they all know the man is dead. The bashed head is a pretty decent visual cue, for one, and for another, a fall from a five-story height would kill anyone without an aviation Quirk. Even in this darkness, Izuku can see the man's blood slowly spreading on the gravel, like spilled milk. Traces. Evidence.

Evidence.

"Did anyone see you?" Izuku says, abrupt into their shocked silence. When she doesn't answer, he turns to look at her urgently. "Ochako? Did anyone?"

Ochako is still shaking. In shock. She looks more terrified than Izuku has ever seen her, and he has seen her fighting for her life. "Did anyone see you? Did anyone—except Tenya and I—know that you were here? Answer me."

"I—" her eyes are blown wide, darting everywhere in panic. "I don't, I—" she's spiraling.

They don't have much time, Izuku thinks distantly. They have to get away from here as soon as possible. They have to—

"Tenya," Izuku says. "I think you should keep on the lookout for us."

There is a short pause where both Izuku and Tenya look at each other, and with one look at Izuku's face, Tenya turns paler. Because Tenya knows immediately what Izuku intends to do. Of course he does, because Tenya is his best friend and Izuku is his and they can communicate with each other with just an offhand gesture. They've done it in battle when their lives depend on each other, and they've done it in school, exchanging jokes and thoughts and laughter.

But this isn't a battlefield or a classroom, and what Izuku intends to do is uncharted territory. Figuratively. Morally.

They've saved each other's lives many times, Izuku thinks—a lot of times. But this, right here, is something different entirely.

Because, well, this is murder.

They stare at each other. For a second, Izuku is sure Tenya would refuse. Tenya is the most sensible out of all of them, so that's what he would do—Tenya would refuse, and then he would call the agency or the police or both and make a straight, honest report. Tenya would do that because Tenya would know that this is wrong and he would know that if they do this there would absolutely be no going back. Tenya would say no.

But he doesn't. "I'll make sure no one comes into the alley," Tenya says instead, and something hysterical bubbles up Izuku's chest.

Tenya leaves and Izuku turns back to Ochako, heart hammering in his chest. Trying to stay calm, he fixes a smile on his face. "Ochako, look at me," Izuku says gently. He waits until she does, putting a pair of hands gently on her trembling shoulders in an attempt to ground her as quickly as possible. "Deep breaths, Ochako. With me. One, two. One, two. One … two. Okay?" She nods, her breath shaky. "Okay. Listen to me very carefully. You killed him."

Her panic returns like wildfire. "I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to—"

"I know," Izuku says, and he means it. Izuku believes wholeheartedly that she didn't mean to kill that man. Uraraka Ochako—his best friend for three years and counting now, with her bright smile and her strong heart and her unstoppable bravery—would never mean to kill another human being. She just—well—killed him.

There is a difference, Izuku thinks hollowly. There is.

Right?

She sobs. It breaks Izuku's heart to see her like this, so terrified like she's going to die. "We have to—" her voice breaks. "We have to call—c-call the agency, we have to tell Ryukyu-san—"

"No!" Izuku snaps. She flinches at the harshness of his voice and he immediately berates himself. Stupid. He has to stay calm. That's what he has learnt as an aspiring Hero—as a Hero. Six semesters of UA education have taught him that much. He has to stay calm in any situation no matter what, even if said situation is his best friend committing a second-degree homicide.

He closes his eyes. Breathe. Calm down. "I mean … why don't we … think about it first. Okay?" his chest twists as he puts up another smile, hurting his cheeks. "Think about it. With a good lawyer, and with Tenya and I backing your testimony, this can be written off as self-defense. They'll let you off with a light sentence, or even better, acquit you entirely." Something like hope shines in her eyes briefly. Izuku swallows. "However," his voice lowers, "this will leave a mark on your records, Ochako. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The hope is quickly replaced by something else, flashing across her face like lightning, pinched and breaking. Izuku thinks she's going to cry again, but she doesn't. "I know," she says. Not quite calmly, but less hysterical now. Sober, but in a harrowed way. Panic shifting into acceptance shifting into terror. "I know that."

"You might get off jail time," Izuku continues, his voice sounding far away to himself as he lays out the consequences of her acti—the accident. "But for killing a civilian, they'll revoke your Hero license. They'll—"

"I know," she says. It seems that the reality of the situation has caught up to her and she's left empty. Her face is deathly pale, as if she is the one currently bleeding on concrete. "They'll expel me, Deku. I—I won't be a Hero," she breathes, a shaky shudder. "It's over for me."

It's over. Just like that. Three years of blood sweat and tears and it's over for her. Three years of fighting for their lives, of going through everything they've been through—all that and it's over for her. Ochako's records are perfect. Her grades have skyrocketed in the past year and all the best agencies in Japan have been chasing to scout her. They're graduating in three weeks—she is supposed to graduate in three weeks and then have a bright future in an A-list agency, but she can't, because of this. Because of one accident. One mistake. Because of one guy pushed off the fucking roof. Her perfect records gone to waste because there is zero tolerance to perfection just as there is zero tolerance to murder.

It's unfair, Izuku thinks. It's like a nightmare. But nightmares aren't real and this is. Except—except—

Except this doesn't have to be real either.

"It doesn't have to be," Izuku says.

She looks up at that, puzzlement intruding her solemn expression. "What..?"

"It doesn't have to be over," Izuku repeats. Insists on it. "It doesn't. So, so that's why, Ochako—I need you to answer my question," Izuku says. Smiles again. "Did anyone see you?"

She stares at him, blank. And then her face changes the moment she understands what he means by that.

What Izuku means is this: you have a choice here. He means: we've survived everything to get here. Everything. He means: every fight we've won, every enemy we beat. All of it. He means: I've survived this long because of you.

Because Izuku has. If it weren't for his friends, if it weren't for Ochako, Izuku would've died. He's sure of that. He wouldn't be standing here, in his final year at UA with all of his friends, alive and happy with a shining future ahead of them all. This is what Izuku has realized he deserves—what they all deserve—after everything they have been through. A future so bright it's blinding where they all stand as Heroes of their generation—the very best Japan has ever seen.

Ultimately, what Izuku means is this: I won't fucking let anything take this away from us.

And Ochako looks at him, understanding and shock and hope and utter, utter terror filling her face because she understands that. Of course she does, because she is his best friend and he is hers and they would do anything for each other. Izuku would die for her, and—he wasn't sure before, but he is now—he would kill for her, too. He would hide a body for her, too. All she has to do is ask.

All she has to do is fucking tell him whether anyone saw her push a guy off the goddamn roof or not.

"Deku.." she says, her voice no longer trembling but awe-struck. "What are you.."

Izuku looks at his watch. It's twelve twenty in the AM. The streets are empty, and there was no sound when the men fell—no scream, not even a crack; it was a silent death. The three of them had run down the fire stairs immediately to the alley where the corpse was and just like the rooftop, there was nobody in the alley either. No one in the streets.

They could get away with this. He looks back up at her. "We could get away with this."

She breathes, sharp. Several emotions go through her face. "Don't—what—but—" she huffs a fucked up laugh, her pitch rising. "Are you crazy?"

"Answer me, Ochako."

She looks like she's going to cry again. But then after a second that feels like forever, she says, "No one saw me. I don't think so, but—" she inhales another shaky breath. "Ryukyu-san knew I was meeting the witness at this location."

"I see," Izuku says. Izuku was planning to fake a suicide for the body, but if the agency knew the meeting location, that won't be possible. Which means they have to get rid of the body. Which means they have to transport the body somewhere else before they get rid of it.

Izuku chews on this thought. "Ochako," Izuku says. Holding her shoulder with one hand as his other one pulls up his phone. "Everything is going to be all right. Okay?"

"No," she says, "Izuku. I can't—I can't pull you into t-this mess! God, you and Tenya, you're my best friends, I can't let you guys—"

"Exactly, Ochako," Izuku says. "We are your best friends."

She shuts up at that. Izuku scrolls on his contacts and makes a call. It only rings one time before the other person picks up.

"Hey," Izuku says. "Oh, nothing much. Quick question, though.."

Izuku glances at the body on the ground calculatingly. 170 cm tall, give or take. Perhaps 65 kg.

With some origami work, it could fit nicely inside a narrow space. Like a trash bag. Or a car trunk.

"You already got your driver's license, right?" Izuku says to his phone.

---

Todoroki Shouto is the youngest student of class 3-A and also, coincidentally, the student who got his driver's license earliest at eighteen years old.

"Hey," he says, window rolled down as his car slows to a stop. "I brought the stuff that you asked."

"Good," Izuku says. "Thanks, Shouto."

"No problem." He must've been on his way right after Izuku called him—he didn't bother to change out of his house clothes, still even wearing his house slippers as he gets out of the car. "This is my brother's car, by the way."

"Natsuo-san's?"

"Yeah. Ochako and Tenya—?"

"Keeping lookout."

"Ah."

Shouto opens the trunks. They both stare at the contents. There's enough, Izuku supposes. A little more than enough perhaps. "Where did you get the tarps?" Izuku says.

"Quick run to the hardware store."

"Did you buy them with—"

"Cash, of course." Unlike credit cards, cash is untraceable. Izuku nods approvingly.

"Right. The ropes too?"

"No. We got lots of ropes at home," Shouto says, slinging some over his shoulders. He shrugs, and adds, "though for legal daily necessities usually.."

"And the rubber gloves..?"

"House-cleaning purposes. We buy them in bulks for our helpers," he hands a pair to Izuku. "No one will notice they're missing."

"Huh," Izuku says, trying them on. They don't fit nice, but it'll have to do.

Shouto shuts the trunk and looks at Izuku, ropes, plastic tarps and a bottle of bleach carried with ease in a pair of gloved hands. "So," Shouto says, cool and unflappable as he always is. "Where's the body?"

---

Cleaning blood off the concrete is the hard part; the body-carrying bit is easy. They don't even need two people to do so—Izuku alone is enough, stuffing the black bag carefully into the trunk. He, Tenya and Ochako are out of their Hero suits and into some odd-fitting shirts and jeans—Shouto has brought his own clothes for them to change into, and none of their sizes actually match. Not that they have much fashion choices at the moment.

Tenya and Ochako are deathly quiet in the backseat while Izuku is sitting shotgun with Shouto on the wheels, also equally deathly quiet. The corpse curled up in the trunk the deathliest and quietest of them all.

Helping your best friend hide a dead body, Izuku finds, is an unexpectedly awkward experience.

"There is no one in the building," Tenya says suddenly, cutting into the silence. He looks less pale now. Shouto's tee is too small on him, the sleeves riding up his shoulders into a tank top. "I checked. It's under construction—this whole street is."

So Ochako was right—there should be no witnesses in the building. That's good. "That's good."

The car falls into silence. Shouto says, "So, what now?"

Izuku's hand is over his mouth as he thinks—a habit that has grown over the years to replace his muttering. "First. Shouto, drive around the city." Shouto obeys, stepping on the gas. The car starts. "Second. Ochako … could you … tell us what exactly happened back there?"

Normally, Izuku would give her more time to recount what obviously is a traumatic event. But they don't have time, and homicide is not anywhere near the normalcy metre. Ochako looks calmer now, though, in the rearview mirror; not hyperventilating herself to death anymore. She takes a deep breath before she talks.

"He's … the one who set up the meeting place. The witness, I mean," her breath stutters a little. "He was being cautious. I thought he must have some men after him for the info he's got on him, so to be safe, he wanted me to meet him … there."

The witness: Masa Mizuno. Forty-two. No living relatives.

"I should've known," she says, a little hollowly, biting her nails. "Such a deserted place. I should've been more cautious. Should've gone over his records more. I should've—" she swallows. "His Quirk record was falsified. It said physical mutation, but it's not all there is—he can nullify Quirks momentarily. He nullified mine. And he was—he was saying these things to me and he was trying to touch me and I just—"

Pushed him.

Izuku saw it. He and Tenya did. The door to the rooftop was locked so they kicked it down. And right after it swung open, they saw her push him.

As simple as that. She didn't even use her Quirk. And maybe that's the kicker, right there, the definite proof: she didn't use her Quirk when she could've. She pushed him. And she could've saved him because she pushed him, she could've used her Quirk to do that—but she didn't. She let him die.

In other words, she killed him.

"It's not your fault," Izuku says, even though she pushed him. Even though she killed him. "It wasn't your fault."

"Of course it was," Ochako says, viciously, to herself. "Of course it was. If I had had my shit together ... I could've, I could've incapacitated him in—in other ways. Called backup. I could've, but instead I—"

"You did call back up, Ochako," Tenya says quietly. "You called us. If I had been quicker—"

"If we had been quicker," Izuku says, being the good friend he is, proceeds to share the blame equally between all of them. "We could've—"

She laughs, a crazed sound. "No," she says. "No. I killed him. It was me. I did that."

"You didn't."

Ochako stares at him. Izuku stares back from the mirror. "You didn't kill him," Izuku repeats. Smiles, because that's the only thing Izuku has learned to do in the face of every horrible thing that has ever happened to him—smile. "You didn't. You came to the meeting point, and … what time did you get there?"

"..twelve midnight."

Izuku looks at his phone. It's now twenty to one. "Right. You came to the meeting point at midnight and after waiting for forty minutes, the witness bailed and never showed up."

The car is silent as Izuku speaks. He continues. "And now, you are going to report to Ryukyu-san just what exactly happened. So, could you tell us, Ochako.." he turns to look her eye to eye. "Just what exactly happened back there?"

There are a few beats of silence before she replies, slowly. "I came to the meeting point," her voice is a little hoarse. "I waited for forty minutes. The witness never showed up."

"That's right," Izuku says. He hands her phone back. "That's exactly what happened. Shouto, pull over and kill th—" he pauses. "Shut the engine, please."

They keep quiet as Ochako speaks on the phone to Ryukyu-san. To her credit, she sounds incredibly calm and collected as she lays out what just happened. "Yes, he never responded to my messages either. That's right. Yes, Deku and Ingenium are with me … yes … understood. Thank you. Good night."

She puts her phone down and then leans back on the passenger seat, heaving a big sigh. She says, voice full of distant wonder, "This is the most fucked up thing in the world."

"What did Ryukyu-san say?"

"Nothing much," Ochako says, voice still distant. "Just that I have to fill up the proper paperwork. Try to get in touch with other witnesses. And she told me to—" Ochako chuckles, that crazy laugh. "She told me to have a good weekend."

Izuku has a sudden inexplicable urge to laugh as well. He stifles it down. Calmness is key. If Izuku loses it too, she's gonna freak again. "Good," he says. "So. She knows we are with you. Tenya and I are your alibi."

"You're my accomplice," she says soberly. Her face twists. "All of you. Unless—unless you get out of this car right now and call the police." None of them move. She throws her hands into the air. "God, you could go down with me for this! Do you have any fucking idea at all what you're doing? Do you? Deku? Shouto?"

The three others are silent in face of her sudden outburst. She turns to look at Tenya who is sitting right next to her. "And you, Tenya," she says. "This is crazy. You know this is crazy, I thought you of all people would—"

"Would what?" Tenya says. His glasses flash in the dark. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, but the stubbornness in it is unmistakably Tenya. "Would report you to the authorities? You think I could ever do that to you, Ochako?"

"That's not what I mean and you know that!" she snaps. "I killed someone! I—"

"I tried to kill Stain when I was fifteen."

She pauses, exasperation all over her face. "That's different.."

"Yes, it's different," Tenya says. "What you did was self-defense. What I did was attempted revenge killing."

"As much as I love to discuss different kinds of murder and the intricacies of its respective moral argument," Shouto says calmly, "there is a corpse in my brother's car and it would be best, in my humble opinion, for the corpse to not be in my brother's car. Or in any vicinity near us, really."

"..Shouto is right," Izuku says. "Third. We have to get rid of the body."

"Listen to yourselves," Ochako says, laughing again. "Are you guys seriously fucking doing this?"

"Once again, there is a corpse in my brother's car," Shouto says. "I think it's a little too late for that question, Ochako. So. How are we getting rid of it?"

Tenya throws the first suggestion. "Burial, perhaps?"

"No," Izuku says. "Dogs can track the scent. We can't risk that."

Ochako laughs helplessly. "What … in the world are you fucking talking about.."

"Burn it, then," Shouto says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. And to him, it probably is.

Izuku shakes his head. "Again, the scent." Like a massively illegal barbeque, he would guess. It also takes a very high degree of temperature to burn a body—up to nine-hundred celsius, to be exact—and while Shouto's fire is capable of that, Izuku doesn't want any of their Quirks to be associated with the cri—with the ... accident.

They can't risk that. No, it's better to do this as Quirklessly as possible.

"There is an abandoned dock south of here," Tenya suggests.

Izuku considers that. Not too bad a choice. "We'd have to cut the body up," Izuku says. Puncture the lungs so it won't float, he reckons. "And weigh it down. But I'd rather the evidence be … gone entirely." Down to the bones if possible.

"Sulfuric acid," Shouto suggests. "We can dissolve the body down the drain."

"Lye is better," Izuku says. Moreover, lye is easier to obtain and less hazardous in practice. "Or drain cleaners. Sales of strong substances are monitored tightly, though. We'd have to separate in groups and buy multiple bottles in different stores to avoid pinging the authorities."

"Listen to yourselves," Ochako repeats, half horrified, half amazed at the ongoing morally bankrupt mortuarial discussion her best friends are having for her sake. "Why do you guys even know these.."

"We need a location to dissolve the body privately," Tenya says, ever the meticulous. "In another city, preferably."

"Endeavor has a safehouse he doesn't use in Tokyo," Shouto says. "Just a twenty-minute ride from here."

The safehouse of the number one Hero in the country—that's a good location. It would drive some of the suspicions away, with lesser chances of being investigated. But still. "They would still be able to find traces of DNA in the solutions," Izuku says. "If we don't drain it properly and it clogs the pipes of neighboring houses.."

"Consumption, then."

"What," says Izuku. He isn't the only one saying this. Both Tenya and Ochako are also chorusing the same word.

Shouto shrugs. His window is half-opened, letting the night breeze in. He's procured a cigarette—an awful habit he had picked up last year solely to piss off Endeavor and fuck up his own publicity—and lights it with a lick of fire from his pointer finger. "We can dispose of the body by turning it into food. After being consumed, the corpse will turn into natural waste. Quite efficient, don't you think."

"Shouto, I must strongly object.."

"Shouto, fucking listen to yourself!"

Izuku considers this. And then he says, after much consideration, "I am not eating a person."

"Neither am I," Shouto says, words slightly stifled by the smoke between his teeth. He pulled up his phone some time ago, typing on it calmly. "That's not what I'm suggesting. Ah, Koji-kun replied."

Izuku raises a puzzled brow. "Koji-kun..?"

Shouto, still typing, nods to himself. He blows smoke outside his window. "Hm. I was right," he says thoughtfully. He looks up at them. "Koji's family does have a pig farm."

---

The Koda family lives in the outskirts of Musutafu, near the forests in a quaint little farmhouse. It seems like Koji has been waiting for them for some time, standing expectantly outside the fence of his house. He brightens into a smile when their car pulls up.

Hi, guys, Koji signs the moment Shouto's window rolls down.

"Hi," the car choruses.

"Koji-kun," Shouto says. "Sorry for calling in so late. Can we talk to you for a minute?"

Of course. Would you guys like to come in? My parents are asleep, though.

"Ah.." the car passengers look at each other. "I'll handle this," Izuku says, getting out of the car.

Hi, Izuku-kun! He looks a little concerned when he can see Izuku's face better. Whatever expression Izuku is wearing must not be so nice. Is everything okay?

"Hi, Koji-kun," Izuku says as he signs. "To answer your question—" he doesn't answer the question. He just smiles. "Um, Koji-kun … here is the thing.." Izuku thinks about it. How does he phrase this. "We have a favor to ask you, but it's a very, very big favor.."

I'd do anything to help you, signs Koji without hesitation.

Izuku's smile feels marginally easier. "That's very kind, Koji-kun—I'd do anything for you as well," and now Izuku knows that he one-hundred percent means that. He really would do anything for his friends. "But, you see, if you do us this favor.." he decides to just be blunt. "There is a chance that you might be liable for jailtime."

Koji's smile does not waver. He signs calmly, didn't I say I would do anything to help you?

---

Shouto's brother's car is in full house now, though not uncomfortably. Everyone generally agrees that Koji is the nicest person in 3-A to be around. "Koji-kun, can you type in the address into my google map … yep, thanks so much."

"This is crazy," Ochako says, sitting between Tenya and Koji. But she doesn't sound fucked up anymore—a little crazy, sure, but not fucked up. "Absolutely fucking deranged."

Izuku has to agree. Koji hadn't even blinked when they told him the full story. Have you guys had dinner? Voted Nicest Guy of 3-A asked them nicely.

"Not yet," Tenya says.

Oh, if I had known I would bring something for us to eat on the road. It's quite a long ride to Yokohama.

"Let's pull up to a McDonalds' drive-thru," Shouto says, ever the practical.

"We have a guy I just killed in the trunk and you want to go to a McDonalds' drive-thru," Ochako says.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Izuku says.

"Exactly," Ochako says. "How could you even eat with a dead body in the—"

"We shouldn't get this car caught on CCTV as much as possible," Izuku says. "Park somewhere down the street and I'll go walk to the McDonalds myself. What do you guys want?"

Ochako puts her head into her hands.

Let's just type our orders in the chat so it's easier for Izuku-kun.

"Good idea, Koji," Tenya says. And then, ever the efficient, he adds, "I'm making us a group chat on Line."

"A group chat for what? " Ochako says, voice muffled. "Helping Ochako to Get Away With Murder group chat?"

"Can someone type my order for me, please," Shouto says. "I want the double cheeseburger set. No pickles."

---

My mother's side of the family are butchers, Koji explains.

"I see," Izuku says. "I didn't expect that. I thought you would be … against meat-eating, I suppose. And animal butchering in general."

Our family loves animals. Doesn't mean we are vegetarians. My sister is, though—she's allergic to red meat.

"Oh."

I've always been taught to appreciate food, Kouji signs. Nature gives to us and we give back to them. Cycle of life, you see. Death is inevitable, and so is Life. It's the natural order of things.

"Right," Izuku says, watching Koji take off a butcher knife from its sheath. It gleams under the light of the barn. It should be menacing, considering the size of that thing, but it looks strangely friendly in Koji's hand. Izuku suspects a gun would look like a teddy bear in Koji's hand. "That's a peaceful way of looking at it."

Everything will turn to food one day, including us.

"Makes sense," Izuku says, staring at the corpse laid out on the table. For this man, that day will be today. "Do you need any help with this?"

That would be wonderful, Koji hands him another, smaller cleaver. It's cold to the grip. Have you ever butchered a cattle before, Izuku-kun?

"No."

A human?

"..No."

Neither have I, Koji says, smiling in that gentle way he always does. Let's learn together, shall we?

"Sure," Izuku says. The corpse is naked, an expanse of still, dead flesh on the table. It doesn't even look real like this. Izuku has seen dead bodies before, in the war, but never so up close and personal. It's hard to imagine that just a few hours ago this was a person who could think and feel just like him.

Izuku turns to the other person in the room. "Shouto, are you coming with?"

"I don't think so, no," Shouto says, watching them thoughtfully from the door. "Actually, I need to throw up. Do you mind?" With this, Shouto walks outside the barn and then proceeds to hear him throw up viciously on the grass.

Always happens to first-timers, Koji says.

Izuku can understand why. "So what do we do first?"

Well, Koji signs. With cattle, we bleed them dry first. That is what the bucket's for.

"Huh."

We insert the knife into the thoracic cavity, just like so.

"I see," Izuku says. "Actually, do you mind if I throw up as well? Just a quick one."

First-timers, Koji sighs, red splattered all over his apron. Always the same.

---

"They will eat anything, huh?"

Yes. Bones too, as long as they are broken apart sufficiently. Nails and teeth are not digestible, however.

"So that's why we had to pry them off. And shave the hair." Those have to be disposed of separately, Izuku supposes. He should find a place to do that, perhaps a body of water..

There is a pond nearby.

Koji-kun, ever the helpful.

---

They put the bloody clothes and plastic tarps in the barrel. Tenya pours gasoline in. Shouto steps forward. "Let me," he says, and then the barrel bursts into flames.

The five of them stare at the impromptu campfire, sitting in a circle surrounding it in oddly comfortable silence. Crickets chirp in the woods around them and the stars are aplenty in the sky. This is the most illegal camping trip Izuku has ever gone to.

I have marshmallows in the farmhouse.

"I don't think any of us are hungry, Koji-kun," Izuku says.

"I would love some marshmallows, actually," Shouto says.

"You threw up twice."

"Exactly. My stomach is empty." And then he says, "Wanna try?"

Izuku stares at the cigarette offered between Shouto's fingers. Izuku has never smoked before in his life. Then again, he never hid a body before in his life either. Though hid a body is a misleading phrase to use when he cut a body up and fed said body to his classmate's pigs.

He can't take all the credit, though. Koji did most of the work. "No thanks."

"I do," Ochako says, and Shouto hands it to her instead. "I can't believe you guys are doing this for me," Ochako says. Her cigarette is shaking a little between her fingers. She's laughing again. She'll need therapy, Izuku thinks. He wonders if homicide and corpse desecration will be included in patient-therapist confidentiality. He needs to look that up later. "I can't fucking believe it."

"We are your friends," Tenya says, as if it's a given. And it is, Izuku realizes, a given. Ride or die.

Or kill?

"You would do the same for us," Shouto points out.

"Would I?" Ochako says. And then she says, "Yes. Yes I would." She pauses. "If anything ever happens to any of you, I would—I would.."

"We know," Izuku says, understandingly. "We know."

They go into another silence again, even more comfortable than the last as they savor the most fucked up bonding experience any of them has ever experienced. Koji brings back marshmallows and crackers from the farmhouse, both of which Shouto receives with delight. Izuku glances at his watch—nearly three in the morning.

"So," Shouto says, half-chewing, "now what?" He is looking at Izuku again. The rest of the accomplices do so as well, because Izuku is always the one with the plan whether in fighting villains or getting away with murder and such is how the world works for class 3-A.

"Fourth," Izuku says, "we need alibis."

---

"Hello," Hitoshi says. "What's up, are you in the middle of a life or death situation again or something."

"..Not exactly," comes Izuku's voice through his phone, and Hitoshi's brows shoot up to his hairline.

"Wow, totally not ominous at all.."

"Listen. Where are you?"

"Uh, my rent."

"Okay. Alone?"

This is getting weird. "Yeah, why?"

"What are you doing right now?"

All right, way weird. "What are you, my boyfriend? Do you need to know the color of my underwear as well or what? I'm wearing the lacy ones today, by the fucking way."

"Just … come on, Hitoshi."

"I'm studying," Hitoshi says. "That bastard Snipe is giving us way too much homework. Like, exams are over, you know? We are graduating in three weeks. What the fuck is even the point."

"Yeah, okay," slight pause. "Um. You aren't alone."

"..What."

"Listen, Hitoshi. You aren't alone. I'm right there with you. I've been there since, um … one am. After I got back from my internship stuff."

Hitoshi stays quiet for a few seconds. "Really," he says, carefully.

"Yes. Since it's the weekend, um, I decided to stay the night."

"Right," Hitoshi leans back on his chair, tapping his pen on his notebook. He can hear something over the line, a crackling background sound—wherever Izuku is right now, he is outdoors. "So. We did Snipe's homework together.."

"Yes."

"And then we played games all night. Resident Evil 14."

"..Yes."

Hitoshi stares at the empty pizza box on the floor. "And we ordered pizza, remember? One thirty in the morning. Hawaiian."

"..We did that, yeah."

"Went to sleep at like. Four in the morning, say."

"Okay."

"Okay," Hitoshi says. "Anything else."

"No. Thanks, Hitoshi."

"Right," Hitoshi says, and then because he really has to ask, "Did you kill someone?" and then because Hitoshi is an intelligent person, "If you're my friend, Midoriya Izuku, you would never bestow that knowledge to me fucking ever."

There is a terrifying pause over the line.

"..See you on Monday, Hitoshi."

The line dies. Hitoshi stares at his phone. Hitoshi wonders if that's the only thing that died tonight.

Eh, Hitoshi thinks. He glances at his clock—three in the morning. Some Resident Evil before bed, he supposes.

---

"All right, brats. We are entering the last weeks of your final semester. None of you better get in any trouble, now."

It's Monday morning, and laughter sprinkles around the classroom of class 3-A. Best class UA has ever seen—and perhaps will ever see—in history. A class that Aizawa Shouta has brought up with his own two hands through blood, sweat, and tears. And love. "I'm serious," Aizawa-sensei says severely. "Don't get in trouble. I would like to see you graduate knowing I hadn't wasted three years with you godforsaken brats."

"Aw, sensei, you'll miss us!" Mina coos. "We'd get in trouble just to repeat a year with you."

Laughter explodes in the room again. If one is perceptive enough, one would realize that there are exactly three students who do not appear to be in the mood for jokes. Aizawa Shouta has not raised a career of being the best Underground Pro-Hero in the past thirteen years by being unperceptive. "Rough night, Uraraka?"

Ochako flinches at the sound of her name being called. And then she laughs, a little too shrilly. "Ah, just—just a little insomniac lately."

Izuku watches Aizawa-sensei watches her, with that awfully scrutinizing eyes of his. He knows them, Izuku thinks. There is no one who knows them better—as a class—than Aizawa-sensei. He knows every single tic that each of them has. Every gesture they have ever made as individuals and as a collective and what they mean are catalogued neatly inside Aizawa-sensei's brain with indubitable precision—nothing will go past him. Trying to fool Aizawa-sensei is a death sentence.

Izuku glances at Ochako. She looks pale. There are bags under her eyes. And she's doing that thing where she clenches her jaw whenever she lies.

"Is your internship going well?" Aizawa-sensei says, and Ochako pales even more, and Izuku thinks, shit, shit —

"It's going fine," Ochako says, smiles. Her jaw clenches again. "It's—"

"She was staying over with us for the weekend," Mina chirps suddenly, an easy smile on her face. "We slept like, at three last night. Teehee."

"You know how girl's nights are, Aizawa-sensei," Toru says. "We got wild."

"We may have gone too far last night, though," says Tsuyu solemnly.

"I see," Aizawa-sensei says flatly, for he has zero interest in knowing what Girl's Night consists of. He turns back to Ochako once again. "Manage your sleeping schedule properly, Uraraka," because clearly everybody knows that Aizawa Shouta is the epitome of Proper Sleeping Schedule. "You can't afford to be tired going on your internship missions. You are bound to make mistakes."

Oh, she made a mistake, all right. "Yes, sensei."

"This is for the rest of the intern students as well," Aizawa-sensei continues, thankfully averting his attention from Ochako and returning it to the rest of the class. "Do rest well and don't push yourself too hard. Because," Aizawa-sensei says sharply above the ooohs and aaahs the kids let out at his uncharacteristically kind advise. "This is a crucial moment just before your graduation into a full-fledged Hero. Everything you do will be scrutinised by the media, and—you look tired as well, Iida."

Tenya, to his credit, shows nothing on his face that indicates anything is amiss. "Apologies, sir. I—"

"He played games all night with us," Eijirou says. "It was so fun. We played throughout the weekend. Right, Denki?"

"We slept, like, at four," Denki says. "Sensei, do you know what GTA is? It's, like, this super retro video game.."

"Right," Aizawa-sensei cuts the conversation short because GTA sounds like some kind of disease to him. "Take care of yourself as well, Tenya. Back to what I was saying, media has its full attention on fresh UA graduates"—especially this class is left unsaid—"which is both good and bad. Make the right move and you will launch your career. Make the wrong one and everything you have worked for will be for nothing. Try not to mess up."

Aizawa-sensei is right, of course, because he always is. This is the time of momentum, the prologue before the story, the intro before the orchestra. It's the perfect time for them to make a splash.

Which they did. A bloody one.

Izuku smiles at that thought, a reflex. If he doesn't smile maybe he'll scream and throw up.

"Everything all right, Midoriya?"

Izuku stills. "Yes, sensei," he says slowly, blinking up at his teacher. His teacher who, without him realizing it, has come to stand right in front of his desk. Even now that Izuku's height has reached his teacher last summer, Izuku is still unable to stop feeling small in comparison to Aizawa-sensei. "Internship going well, Midoriya?" Aizawa-sensei says drily.

"All well, sir," Izuku says and tries for a smile.

"You look a little pale," Aizawa-sensei says.

"I—"

"Stayed up with me all night," Hitoshi says off-handedly from the seat behind Izuku. "Snipe-sensei gave us so much homework it's insane."

"I see," Aizawa-sensei says, leaning back, giving Izuku more space to breathe. And terrifyingly, he adds, "It seems like a lot of you are doing sleepovers last weekend."

Izuku's heart stops. But the class responds immediately without missing a beat.

"It's our last weeks of high school, sensei! Let us enjoy our fleeting youth!"

"Sensei, why don't you have a sleepover with us?"

"Sensei, sensei, let's go camping together! Class A camping trip!"

"Let's go to Okinawa!"

"No, Hokkaido, Hokkaido!"

"Idiots, aim higher! Let's go to Bali!"

The room quickly becomes rowdy at this prospect. To Izuku's tremendous relief Aizawa-sensei leaves his desk, waving the class into silence. "Back to my point," he says after he has successfully shut them up. "For the internship students, there is a high chance your internship will continue even after graduation—if any of you wish to discuss the technicalities of your internship in detail do head to the administration office to do so. For the rest of you, it is highly advisable to send out your resumes as soon as possible.."

They could get away with this.

The thought comes into his mind, unbidden. They could get away with this. They really could.

As Aizawa-sensei's voice drones on, Izuku realizes that someone is staring at him. It's Katsuki.

They never changed their seating arrangement since the first year. Katsuki has always sat in front of him throughout high school, and today is no different. Izuku's smile fades. He looks back at Katsuki, questioning. When their eyes meet, Katsuki looks away.

Izuku swallows. Uneasy.

They could get away with this, he thinks again. They could.

Right?

---

Class 3-A has their own designated seat tucked at the corner of the cafeteria where the rest of the school can stare lovingly at them because they are the Victoria's Secret's Avengers of UA and everything. Today is no different. As usual, there is a hushed silence the moment they step foot inside the cafeteria as if everything has suddenly turned into blockbuster slow motion and they will be blowing up Villains left and right anytime soon.

"Snipe is fucking insane. I spent the entire weekend working my ass off on his worksheets."

"Can I copy off your worksheets, dude.."

"Look, Izuku," Denki elbows at him. "That first-year girl is staring at you again."

"All the first-year girls are staring at him," Mina says, elbowing Izuku's other side. "Didn't you hear them at the last Sports Festival? An entire fan club, I swear. Oh, Midoriya-senpai, Midoriya-senpai.."

"Yeah, but this girl, see, she's been eyeing Izuku since—"

"Let's not," Izuku says. Both Denki and Mina snicker, because they just like to fuck with him.

Ochako doesn't go for lunch and neither does Tenya, both of them staying back in class solemnly with two identical I don't feel like eatings. Well, neither does Izuku, but at least one of them should exhibit no suspicious behaviors. No worries on that front with either Shouto or Koji, though; both of them seem to be doing fine. Shouto is stealing soba off Izuku's bowl and Koji is off feeding pangolins in the UA forests again.

Not with dead bodies, Izuku hopes.

"What do you guys think about getting degrees?"

"Mm … feels a bit necessary, don't cha think," Denki says. "Most Heroes go straight into agencies after high school."

"All right, but consider," Eijirou points his chopsticks at his friend. "What will you do after Heroics?"

Denki is silent for a second. "I actually never thought of that. Is that bad."

"Most Heroes retire in their forties," Momo says thoughtfully. "You do have to consider what comes after."

"Exactly!" Eijirou says. "Like, if your agency is nice enough to give you some retirement cash, then good for you. But shit happens, you know? Forget retirement, what if some fucked up stuff happens and you suddenly can't be a Hero anymore—you okay, Izuku?"

"I'm okay," says Izuku calmly, dabbing the water he just spit with a napkin Shouto gave him.

"Okay. I was saying, beside Heroics, you gotta have something in your ammo."

"To keep us attractive and employable in the eyes of the capitalist cog machine, you mean," says Hitoshi drily.

"Hey, I don't like it either.."

It sounds nice to get a degree, actually. Not that Izuku would, not immediately, at least. He knows he's going straight to an agency after graduation. "What about getting a degree after retirement?" Izuku says.

His classmates shake their heads at him, affectionately. "Man. Only you, Izuku, would want to study in retirement."

"For reals."

Izuku shrugs. It sounds nice, if he's honest. "Well, I thi—"

His words are cut short because someone taps on his shoulder.

Well, to be exact, someone is moving to tap on his shoulder. Izuku could feel it. He whips, instinct kicking in and the table is almost upended the moment he stands up as he reaches a fist to—

"Careful, there," Shouto says, a hand holding Izuku's left arm. "That was close."

"Don't surprise him like that," Hitoshi says, straining to hold Izuku's right. "Izuku's reflexes could kill, you know."

The first-year squeaks, blushing bright red. Her stature is almost comically small standing in front of the three tallest boys in third grade. "I'm sorry," she says.

"No, I'm sorry," Izuku says, still surprised. That was close. He almost punched her, or worse. "Sorry. Can I help you?"

Some of the nearest tables are looking over to see the commotion, and topped with a tableful of the notorious class 3-A, the poor girl seems to be losing her nerve. She is carrying something, Izuku notices for the first time. A … letter? She hides them behind her back futilely the moment Izuku lands his eyes on them. "Um," she looks down, pale silver hair falling into her face. Her face is so red now that Izuku feels sorry for her. Her voice is as small as she is. "I'm sorry. I wanted to—I mean—um, never, nevermind—"

She dashes. Izuku stares after her, confused, before he sits back down. "Um."

The 3-A table explodes into laughter and jeers. Denki leans across the table to push at Izuku. "See? I told you, Izuku's got a fan!"

"More than one," Momo remarks. The first-year returns to a table of first-years, all whispering and giggling as they sneak glances at Izuku.

Izuku says nothing, stabbing at his soba with his chopsticks. Now he's blushing. "My, Izuku, how you've grown. Puberty, eh?"

"Shut up," he says, and his classmates laugh at his reddening face, raucous and affectionate.

"Oh, you know we're right," Mina rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "Don't you have that photo shoot coming up, Midoriya-senpai?"

Izuku flips a finger at her and she cackles. "I'm not the only one who's got a photo shoot," he mumbles.

---

"Deku-san, Uravity-san, Dynamight-san!"

"Hello," Izuku says politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine," the interviewer chirps back, shooting a warm smile of their own. "We are a bit short on time, forgive me for interviewing you when you are so busy.."

"Ah, it's fine," Izuku says. His head being used as a canvas by the makeup artist and his hair being gelled this way and that by the hairdresser isn't exactly busy. All he has to do is to keep still and get through the torture of being poked around and don't, by reflex, punch anyone. He keeps his fist clenched at his sides to prevent the latter from happening. "No problem … thanks for interviewing us.."

"Thank you for letting us interview you!" the interviewer laughs warmly. "We are glad to have a slot in your schedule; our readers have been requesting content for this generation's UA's Big Three for some time now."

"Oh, that's good to hear," Izuku glances at his fellow Big Three. Katsuki is typing furiously on his phone, untouchable and silent as his own team of hair and makeup attempt to tame his hair down. In the meanwhile, Ochako is staring into nothing in her mirror. Her makeup artist has managed to hide the bags under her eyes but not, unfortunately, the distinctly fucked up look in said eyes. There are some things that even makeup can't cover up.

Like murder, for example.

"Before we conduct the interview individually, we were wondering if you Heroes are hungry," the interviewer says, how so thoughtfully. "There is a fantastic burger place near the studio, we can order some for you. Their bacon burgers are to die for."

Izuku can see Ochako quickly turning green at the mention of bacon and die. "We've had lunch," he says hurriedly.

"I want one," Katsuki says next to him, speaking for the second time since he entered the building. The first time was to one of the costume persons, quote, "if you touch my suit it will explode and kill you". It was said, like all the rude things Katsuki ever said in his life, matter-of-factly.

"Now, we'll start with you, Deku-san," says the interviewer after ordering a burger and fries with vanilla milkshake for Katsuki. "You have been certainly making waves in the national—and international!—Hero industry for the past three years. From your debut in the first-year UA Sports Festival, to the Kamino Ward Incident, the Shie Hassaikai Case.."

Izuku has never known what to say in response to statements like this. Thank you, I did endanger my life many times as a teen, yes. He just continues to smile politely. The makeup artist is applying some foundation on a knife scar just over his chin—the brush feels uncomfortable against his skin, itchy and sticky. One or two scars is good, he's been told—"a badge of honor for Heroes". But more than that, apparently, is "too much".

"..to the fall of All for One. Since then you've continued to excel in your studies and various cases in your internships, practically becoming a full-fledged Pro even before hitting a legal age. A flawless track record both aspiring and established Heroes are jealous of.."

Something humble is expected to be said here, he thinks. "I have a lot to learn, especially from the Pros who have been so kind as to guide me in my journey," he says, almost obedient, as if reciting from a cue card. "There is a long way before I can stand on their level."

He can hear Katsuki scoff. The interviewer eats it up, however. "A sweet personality to boot," they gush, and Izuku, as always, can do nothing but smile in face of sweet compliments and high praises handed to him on golden platters. "Befitting of the next pillar of Heroes."

That stops Izuku short. The interviewer winks playfully, as if at an inside joke. "It's an open secret that All Might has chosen you as his successor, Deku-san. We were hoping to hear it straight from the source.."

From his peripheral, Izuku sees that Katsuki has now stopped typing, his head tilted at Izuku's direction as if mildly interested to see how this conversation plays out—or more accurately, how Izuku will wiggle himself out of this. Izuku stifles a sigh.

"..What All Might intends to do with his legacy," Izuku says eventually, words careful and trained, "is not for me to divulge. I trust and respect his decision, whatever it may be." So could everyone please stop asking?

Katsuki scoffs again—more of a snort this time, really—before returning to his phone. The interviewer looks a little disappointed by Izuku's response, but willfully marches through. "Of course, of course … well, all of us are eager to wait for his official announcement now that our favorite class is graduating! Speaking of, how do you feel about reaching this milestone? This must be a very exciting time of your lives."

"Well, we haven't officially graduated yet.."

Not for another three weeks, and certainly not if it's revealed that his flawless track record isn't so flawless after all. Not if a certain strand of DNA is discovered in a certain pig farm's waste disposal in Yokohama.

But hey. Nobody's perfect.

"But, um, yeah! I'm excited for, you know, for my friends and I. To finally be going out there as Pros. I'm excited to see what we are going to do."

Izuku isn't the only one excited. The press is thrilled with the prospect of that class A graduating UA—hence the slew of interviews and photo shoots lined up in Izuku's itinerary. His class had saved the world as children and now everyone can't wait to see what those kids will do as legal adults. No doubt they will do incredible things, like saving the world a second and third time, or pushing people off roofs and feeding their bodies to pigs. "It's very heartwarming to see how close-knit your friendship is."

Izuku's smile shifts into something that is nearly genuine. "They are my best friends," he says. "I would do anything for them."

It sounds like a threat even to himself.

"As much as we'd love to hear more about the famous class 3-A, we are also eager to know more about you, Deku-san," segues the interviewer smoothly. "We have a list of questions here our readers have sent into our Instagram page. You see, we've only been hearing good things about you, but we are dying to know just how many skeletons you're hiding in your closet! Haha."

Just the one. "Haha," Izuku says. "Sure."

---

"Masa Mizuno is not the only witness who disappeared. The other three informants who have agreed to provide intel in exchange for witness protection and jailtime reduction have been MIA for the last seventy-two hours. Sera Leroy, Okuda Momoe, and Mo Zihao. None of them showed up in their respective meeting points."

The rest of the meeting room is silent as the hologram flickers, lighting the Dragoon Hero Ryukyu's face in dim blue. "Thank you, Hero Espio," she says. Espio, the Ryukyu's agency best intel gatherer steps back from the podium as the titular leader takes the stage. "As I'm sure we all have realized, this can't be a coincidence. Four witnesses gone in the past week right when we are close to making our bust … but this proves our suspicion right. The Triad must be making a shipment significant enough to take such bold measures."

Musufatu has since long attempted to excise the Triad, a crime organization dealing mainly in selling illegal Quirk weapons overseas. It's a major case, the biggest organized crime case Ryukyu's agency has undertaken since Shie Hassaikai.

"We must stop the shipment at all cost," Ryukyu says, sombre. "We still have no legitimate proof of whether or not the Triad really is in possession of a copy of AFO's nomufication formula, but they've never acted this sloppy before—which means they are in a rush. Which means we might not have much time left. When is the next Triad convocation held?"

The best Heroes in her agency are assigned on the case. They need all hands on deck if they want a shot in taking the Triad down. "This case has become bigger than any of us could have foreseen. We may need to collaborate with another agency. Especially if this leads to an all-out war."

She looks grim at the prospect. "We would like to avoid that as much as possible," she says. "But it may be inevitable. Please prepare yourselves."

After the meeting, she took the interns for a separate discussion. Izuku finds it admirable that she still manages to find time to talk to them personally despite the urgency of the situation. "Each of you has contributed majorly in this case. All three of you, while young, are undoubtedly indispensable assets to our agency. However, I would like you to understand that the situation has a high possibility of escalating into being lethal."

She goes silent for a moment, inspecting the three young Pro-Heroes to-be standing in front of her. "Eraserhead has informed me that your graduation is coming in less than three weeks. I understand completely if you wish to step back from this case."

The three interns stare back at her, and then at each other. This is one thing that she has noticed from working with them in the past months—Deku, Uravity, and Ingenium do not need words to communicate with each other. "We appreciate the concern, Ryukyu-san," Deku says, taking the lead as always. "But we wish to continue helping you in solving this case. This internship has been a valuable experience for the three of us, and before we graduate as Pros, we would like to learn as much as we can."

Ryukyu did expect this. From what she has known of them, she had an inkling they wouldn't back down. These young Heroes have a reputation of not backing down from anything. "I see," she says. "In that case, please continue your respective tasks in investigating the witnesses. We may find clues from their disappearances and the nature of the Triad's cargo. Securing the cargo is our top priority," she pauses. And then she smiles, thin, but genuine. "We expect great things from you. Good luck."

---

"Wow," Shouto says. "Looking like shit, Heroes. How was work?"

Izuku doesn't answer, opting to sit still with his hand over his mouth, still as a statue on the bench. On either side of him, both Tenya and Ochako are equally silent.

UA is chock full of cameras, but in their second year, the four of them discovered a blind spot. UA has the best facilities every school dreams of; polished to an nth degree as the highest grade education centre in Japan, if not the world. But in the back, facing the forest on the south ground floor, there is a part of the building that has not been renovated for years. The plants there are untended, and the benches decaying with a healthy layer of dust on top. No CCTV overlooking this particular nook and cranny.

Naturally, this has become their spot ever since its discovery.

"That bad, huh," Shouto says when none of them answers, stuffing a cigarette butt into a small plot of greying plants. The plot is brimming with dozens more cigarette butts, Shouto's accumulated filth. Izuku knows whenever Shouto excused himself to the toilet he would be coming here for a quick smoke break.

Next to Izuku, Ochako is taking a deep, shaking breath. She has been acting better in the past few days—even so far as going to lunch again—but she's been freaked out again ever since the last agency meeting. "I think," her voice is hoarse. "I think I should turn myself in."

"No," chorus the three other boys.

"I could do it," she insists, nails bitten between her teeth. She has that crazy look in her eyes again. "I could—I could say it's all me. And it is all me, it's my fault that this—" she pauses, takes another breath. "It's not too late. I could do it. None of you should've been brought into this in the first place—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ochako," Tenya says. His voice is quiet. "We are all in this together."

"And that's the fucking problem," Ochako says, just as quiet. "Fucking hell. Don't you care what happens to your future if this gets out?"

Izuku's mouth twists. "Of course we do.."

"I don't," Shouto says. The other three look at him, and Shouto shrugs. He has that small smile on his face whenever he starts thinking about fucking up his dad. "Well, maybe a little," he assents thoughtfully. "But, you know. I care about you guys' futures, though."

Any other time, Izuku would start talking to Shouto earnestly like hey man, I noticed you've been doing more and more reckless shit now that we are going to be legitimate Pro-Heroes for real because probably you still have unresolved issues with your piece-of-shit dad and stuff, wanna talk about it? But right now Izuku doesn't think he has any right to be lecturing anybody about reckless shits. "Even if you turn yourself in," Izuku says to her. "We'll become suspects too. Ryukyu knows that Tenya and I were with you, remember?"

Moreover, Ochako wouldn't be able to show the authorities where the body is, and if further investigation is launched, they could rope Koji and Shouto onto the suspect list as well, and then they are all fucked. "Fuck," Ochako says. She grabs Shouto's cigarette packet and takes one for herself. Shouto lights it up for her. "Fuck.."

Fuck is right. Now that the other witnesses have disappeared, things have become complicated.

The agency now suspects that the Triad did away with Mizuno Masa. There is now a—suspected—perpetrator in his disappearance, where previously it was assumed to be an independent phenomenon on Masa's part. This is both good and fucking terrible.

The good thing is now there is a very plausible Villain to pin Masa's disappearance, which is the Triad. The Triad takes up a massive space on the suspect list as they have both the means and motive to vanish Masa.

The fucking terrible thing is that Masa's disappearance will now be investigated.

Izuku thought they could frame Masa Mizuno as a runaway; simple, no other factor involved in his disappearance. They wouldn't even need to do a thing—not after the body is gone—they wouldn't need to fabricate and/or tamper more evidence and just let Masa's mysterious disappearance case fall off the grid with no other suspicions. It shouldn't even be of note; witnesses—especially ones with terrible track records and no significant relations nor future to speak of—run away all the time. Izuku had relied on this. He had relied on Masa being swept under the rug, just another escapee case with no particular significance.

And now that plan has gone and fucked itself.

Izuku would prefer all three of them washed hands off this case effective immediately, just minimizing their involvement as much as possible. Hell, Ryukyu gave that option to them on a silver platter.

But he knows leaving is the stupidest choice they could possibly make. They have to stay involved, because that way they would be able to at least manage the information flow regarding Masa and at the same time eliminate any possible evidence against them that may or may not surface.

They're trapped.

But if they play their cards right, they won't be for long.

"Listen," Izuku gets up from the bench, turning to look at the three of them. "I know … this situation isn't ideal. But this doesn't mean it's over. We are still in the clear, and we can keep it that way if we do this right."

Ochako looks at him. Her eyes are a little red, as if she hadn't had a good night's sleep or if she had cried herself sick. Tenya wouldn't look a thing out of ordinary if not for the heavy bags under his eyes.

He thinks about Ochako's parents. He's been at her house for dinner a couple of times—they're good people. Bright smiles, just like their daughters. Ochako's dad cooks fantastic fried rice. Their financial background isn't the most favorable; Ochako has told him how they struggled to pay for her UA education in the past years. He thinks about what they would think when they—if they find out their daughter is a murderer.

And Tenya, carrying his brother's legacy. His brother's name. The one with the biggest sense of responsibility out of all of them, their moral compass, the one with the most passion in this industry than all of them combined. What would Tenya's family think if they find out their youngest, most promising son has been an accomplice in a murder? What would his brother think?

Izuku won't let that happen.

"All we have to do is stay calm, work together, and just … hold it out. Okay?" He might be wrong, but he predicts that this case will last for at least another two weeks. They just have to hold out for that long. Two weeks, and then it's all fucking over. "We'll keep an eye out for anything … incriminating, and do our job—business as usual. If anything comes up, we think of a solution. All right? That's it. And then.." two weeks. Just two weeks. Two weeks, and then. "And then we can all forget about this."

Because all of this will have never happened.

Tenya is the first to respond. "Izuku is right," he says, sounding almost like the sensible Tenya Izuku has always known. "We just have to keep a clear head. This will … pass eventually, as all things do."

Ochako closes her eyes, as if pained. She doesn't speak for a long time. "Okay," she says finally, smoke puffing out of her mouth. "Okay," she says again. "This will—this will pass. We … we are okay."

"We are okay," Izuku says, a smile automatic on his face. We'll get away with it, he means. "We are okay."

Both Ochako and Tenya need to talk to Aizawa-sensei, so both of them go back to class first. Shouto and Izuku watch them go. "Do you really think we'll be okay?" Shouto says, glancing at him.

"..I don't know," Izuku says, honest. "But we have to be." And he will make sure of that. Whatever it takes.

Anything for his friends.

"Okay," Shouto says, stepping on his fourth cigarette in the past ten minutes. "Recess is over soon. We should get back too."

"You can go first. I think—I think I'll clear my head for a bit."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"All right."

That's what's great about Shouto—he never asks questions. Izuku trusts him just like how he trusts all of his friends, but on some level Izuku also realizes that the trust Shouto has for him is incomparable to that. Shouto trusts him completely, handing his fate into Izuku's hands without so much as a word. "Shouto?"

Shouto turns back at him. From this angle, only his one dark eye is visible, questioning.

There are things Izuku wants to tell him, that Izuku wants to tell his friends, like I'm sorry. Sorry I brought you into this. Sorry I made this complicated and worse and now all of our futures are maybe possibly fucked irreparably. But what use would that be? "Thanks," Izuku says. "For picking the phone up that night. And—and for coming."

Shouto shrugs. "You're my best friend," he says, like it's the easiest thing in the world. And then he leaves.

Izuku falls back to sit on the bench, silent and feeling more than a little hysterical.

He smiles, a reflex, because that's the only thing he can do right now. Breathe, he tells himself. Calm down.

They are okay. For now, at least, and he will keep it that way. He wasn't bulshitting—they truly can get away with this so long as he keeps a cool head on his shoulders. They have options. Plans, that's right, as long as Izuku has a plan, it will be all right. They would need to investigate the other missing witnesses, that's first. Second, they'd have to make sure th—

"So this is where Half-and-Half goes to get his nicotine fix."

Izuku freezes.

"Figures. He goes to the bathroom way too often. Bastard doesn't even try to hide it, huh."

Izuku's heart hammers in his chest. He would recognize that voice anywhere. He looks up, even though he already knows who would be standing in front of him.

Katsuki looks back at him, both hands in his pockets. He still never has his tie on, even now that they are in the third grade. "Damn. You look like shit," Katsuki remarks, off-handed. "Rough night?"

"Kacchan," Izuku breathes, feeling like the ground just opened up below him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "You've been—you were … how long have you.."

How long had he been there? How much had he listened?

How much does he fucking know?

Katsuki smiles, a mean thing. There is a look Izuku recognizes on his face, something that he hasn't seen in years. "Wouldn't you like to know," Katsuki replies.

---

Kacchan doesn't know.

That's Izuku's general consensus after replaying their conversation over and over again in his head. None of them had said anything regarding the nature of the … accident. Katsuki couldn't possibly figure out what they did—what they've done—from that short snippet of a conversation. He couldn't possibly do so. But what Katsuki heard was enough for him to know that something is up.

Izuku knows Katsuki better than anyone else, and one of the things he knows about the latter is that Katsuki would never let things fucking go.

He's tense and silent throughout the next lesson, staring stiffly at Katsuki's back. Kacchan hadn't said anything, back then at the courtyard. They'd just stared at each other and then Kacchan had left, just like that. It's been a while, Izuku thinks, since the last time Kacchan tortured him like this.

The bell rings, the next lesson coming up. The class enters that wild wild west phase where there is no teacher in the room and everyone is just genially fucking around. Mezo is arm wrestling with Rikido, Mashirao, Shouto, Denki, Eijirou, and Yuga at the same time with all six arms. "Hey, not on my desk!" Kyouka protests. "Not on my—agh, my juice!"

Her bottle falls to the floor with a resounding crash, polyethylene terephthalate breaking apart upon impact to UA's polished marmer floor. "Ugh, I swear, you can break a neck on these floors.."

"Sorry, Kyouka.."

"Damn it, that's why I told you to knock it out.."

Izuku watches Kyouka's dragonfruit and banana juice spreading all over the floor, the liquid so purple it's almost red. He looks at Ochako who is also staring at it in silence, face stricken. Izuku knows what the view reminds her of: blood spreading quickly on concrete in a certain alley somewhere in Musutafu.

Izuku stands up abruptly from his seat. "I'll get a mop," he announces. He can feel someone staring at him as he darts outside the classroom, and a part of him wonders if it's Katsuki.

His throat feels dry as he paces down the hallway. Kacchan. Of all people, it's Kacchan who's onto them. If Kacchan finds out, then what? What would Kacchan do?

Kacchan, Izuku knows, is the one who wants to be a Hero most of them all. Kacchan is the one who wanted this for the longest time. All the way from the beginning, even. Izuku wanted to be a Hero because Kacchan wanted to be a Hero. Kacchan is the one who is the most ... which is why, why Kacchan would..

Kacchan would do the right thing, wouldn't he?

Of course. Of course he would. Unlike Izuku, Kacchan would never make mistakes. Kacchan would never … Kacchan would've hidden a body better than he did. Kacchan would never hide a body in the first place.

If Kacchan finds out, they're all fucked.

He has to tell the others. He has to tell them that Kacchan might … suspect them of something, and then they'd think of a solution together, they'd think of what to do with him. They'd … talk to Kacchan.

And what? Ask him to let them off just this one time, pretty please? To turn a blind eye towards civilian murder?

You don't need to be friends with Bakugou Katsuki for eighteen years to know that that wouldn't fucking wor—

Izuku bumps into someone.

No, bump is too light a word. He crashes into someone, all eighty kilogrammes of him. Someone yelps, and it's only by pure reflex that Izuku manages to catch them before they hit the ground—

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" Izuku says. "Are you all right?"

Izuku must've hit her pretty hard because she's looking up at him all dazed and breathless. In the next second Izuku recognizes her—that first-year back in the cafeteria, with the pale hair. "Did I hurt you?" Izuku says, panicking. Izuku must be three times her size; he could've broken her neck or something. "Does anything hurt?"

"I—um, I—" her face is all red. Izuku belatedly realizes that he must be squeezing her. "Oh, sorry!" he says again. "Um, can you stand.."

Her legs are shaky, but she can stand after he carefully let her go. "I'm really sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, it was completely my fault.." in the middle of his mental breakdown, he has wandered into the first-year hallway. "Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

"I'm all right," she says, her voice small. "Um, thank you. Mido—Midoriya-senpai."

Midoriya-senpai, Midoriya-senpai, Mina's voice comes to mind. Izuku ignores the heat rising in his cheeks. "No, no, I'm glad you're—uh, fine. Again, so sorry."

"It's fine."

"Okay."

They stand in silence. Izuku clears his throat. "Um, okay, I—I need to go back to class.." and get that damn mop. "Sorry again."

She makes a motion that is somewhere between a nod and a shake which Izuku takes as his sign to leave. He only manages to take one step before turning back to look at her again. "Um, sorry, what's your name?"

She must be only two, maybe three years younger than him, but she looks so … young. Izuku wonders if he had looked like that as a first-year—small and innocent and nervous.

She doesn't answer his question for long enough that Izuku starts to think that he might be coming off as a creepy upperclassman or something. "I mean, you don't need to answer that—"

"Kunieda," she blurts. Her face is still red. Quieter, she says, "I'm Kunieda Hanako. Um, 1-C."

"Oh," Izuku tries for a smile. He feels bad, she must've been so shocked, and it must've hurt. As Hitoshi has said often, his reflexes could kill. "Nice to meet you, Kunieda-san. See you later … I guess."

He should get his head in order, he thinks, mop in hand as he is on his way to class. He should take his own advise, damn it. Panicking never makes things better. He needs to calm down and think.

Even if Kacchan suspects something, there is no way for him to know what that something is as long as they keep their mouths shut. Other than the four of them and Koji, none of their classmates know what exactly happened anyway. And unless Kacchan has access to the case—which he doesn't—there would be no way for him to discover what happened.

It's fine, Izuku thinks. It's going to be fine. They're okay. It's fine. They can get away with this.

The thought, Izuku realizes, doesn't bring him as much comfort as it ought.

---

"Two decapitated torsos have been found in the Sumida and Kanda river respectively as of 1400 today. Forensic has determined both torsos belong to Sera Leroy and Mo Zihao respectively."

The pictures shown on the hologram aren't censored in the least. The torsos don't look exactly like torsos anymore—just a white-blue, bloated piece of a thing, a pale expanse of flesh laid on blue tarps. They must've been in the water for at least a day, floating in the Tokyo rivers until someone took notice and called the cops.

See, Izuku thinks. Should've punctured the lungs.

"Search is still ongoing for the rest of the body parts and for Masa Mizuno and Okuda Momoe. In the meanwhile, we have some intel on the victims' circumstances before their disappearances. Uravity?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ochako says. "It appears that the four witnesses have disappeared around the same time between 1st to 6th March. We find similarities in the modus operandi to that of the disposal of past Triad victims. We also found a thread of similarities between the four witnesses other than their affiliation with the Triad. Ingenium?"

"We have found evidence that the four of them had, at different points of time, worked for the BLS airline company based in Tokyo. BLS specializes in international air cargo shipment, especially in exotic goods."

"BLS.." Ryukyu mulls on the information. "How long has this airline been established?"

"Not very long at all—in name, at least. This airline enters the industry fairly recently as BLS three years ago," Tenya says. "Right after the fall of Innave air freight company in 2XXX."

"Innave … the airline that was shut down due to the 2XXX re-enforcement of anti-organized crime act.."

"Yes. On top of that, Innave was discovered to have been shipping undeclared hazardous goods overseas to the black market," Izuku says. "After its fall, its sponsors have since shifted gears to back a new, greenhorn company.."

"Which is BLS."

"Yes, ma'am. We think that whatever the Triad is planning to sell, it will do so via this airline. There is a big shipment scheduled in just a week's time. We believe it is worth investigating."

Ryukyu nods, pleased. "Good work, Heroes."

Ryukyu's agency is kind enough to give the interns their own breakroom. It's small but cushy with a nice sofa, a little pantry with coffee makers and a constantly replenished fridge. A testament to Ryukyu's rising popularity in rankings—jumping from tenth place to third in just two years.

Ochako throws herself to the sofa. She's half out of her suit, her casual shirt clashing with the bottom half of her Hero outfit. "That went well," she says, voice muffled by a throw pillow.

Tenya is still in his suit, looking comical as he makes coffee for the three of them in the corner of the room. "It did. Good work, everyone."

"Good work," Izuku mutters, resting his head on his arms.

"You guys wanna get dinner together?"

Izuku glances at her. She looks better, in the past few days. Less pale, and she smiles more often too. Iida has been more talkative as well lately. Two weeks to go. They can do this.

So why does Izuku still feel like absolute shit?

"Sure," Izuku says. "Any cravings?"

Tenya is in the mood for sashimi, so they'll go for that. Izuku carries his bag with him as he walks out of the breakroom. The locker room is located on the third floor, so Izuku presses up on the elevator, one foot tapping arhythmically as he waits.

The agency has a locker room for Heroes to change, and Izuku is itching to get the hell out of his suit. The designers try their best, but these things aren't exactly breathable.

The elevator dings and opens—nearly full house. But what makes Izuku stop short is that he recognizes the faces of the passengers in the lift.

He swallows. He tries for a smile. "Best Jeanist, sir," he bows politely.

"Deku," Best Jeanist nods with acknowledgement. After a beat, "are you coming?"

Izuku clears his throat. "Yes, sir."

He enters the lift. The door closes. "You are graduating soon, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Izuku says again, looking straight ahead. His stomach feels like ice.

The number two Hero nods again. "Ryukyu has told me your contribution to this case has been valuable. I am looking forward to working with you."

We may need to collaborate with another agency.

Realization turns to horror as it sinks in. "It's my honor, sir."

The lift dings—second floor. Best Jeanist walks out of the lift along with his agency's members and interns, walking out to the hallway, presumably to rendezvous into a meeting with Ryukyu. One of them doesn't, though. One of them lingers in front of the lift, turning to look at Izuku once everyone else is out of earshot.

"Been a while since we worked together, eh, Izuku?" he says.

Of all agencies, it's Best Jeanist's. Of all people—

"Lookin' forward to it," says Dynamight, Best Jeanist's best intern.

The lift closes.

---

"Toshinori-san, you … really didn't have to do this."

"It's the least I could do, son."

The table must be made from pure mahogany, or something. Izuku wishes he had worn something better—this button-up shirt doesn't feel proper enough. He glances at the menu, unpronounceable dish names with eye-popping prices. "I haven't even graduated yet.."

"We'll just have to have another dinner after you graduate, then," Toshinori kindly says.

The restaurant is located in one of the most luxurious streets of Musutafu, a fancy European-style eatery with wooden ceilings and waiters who dress up like English butlers and pull your chairs out for you. Izuku nearly jolts out of his seat and punches one of them when the poor waiter pours the drink from over Izuku's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"It's fine, sir. We'll clean this up immediately if you would hold on for a moment.."

"I'm sorry," Izuku says to Toshinori after the waiter leaves.

"It's fine, boy," he smiles. The low lighting reflects gold on his sallow, emaciated face. "You haven't changed."

Izuku isn't sure if he agrees with that. But then Toshinori continues, "And yet you've grown so much. Ryukyu told me your internship has been going excellently.."

If only she knows. "Ah, Ryukyu-san is too kind," Izuku says, struggling to smile back. "She has taught us a lot. It's been a good experience."

"Yet you seem to be fatigued recently."

Izuku busies himself with his glass, sipping the cold water so he has an excuse not to answer, at least for a while. "It's just.." that I'm a criminal, Toshinori-san. "Surprising. I mean. I can't believe I'm going to graduate just in two weeks, you know? It feels like it was just yesterday I.."

He trails to a stop. Just yesterday he met Toshinori on that rooftop. Just yesterday he beat down that villain bot in the entrance exam. Just yesterday the League of Villains raided USJ, just yesterday the war happened, just yesterday all those Heroes died, just yesterday all those Villains died, just yesterday Izuku and Shigaraki Tomura fought, just yesterday One for All and All for One—

Just yesterday. It feels like it was just yesterday.

"I understand," Toshinori says. Izuku looks at him. He's always looked old, even then, in this form—old and weary. But now, Izuku sees with surprise that he's even older. Blond hair has greyed into white when Izuku wasn't looking. There is a strain in the way Toshinori moves that wasn't there before—a pained halt to even reach for the wine glass right in front of him.

Yesterday, Izuku realizes, was three years ago. And three years is a long time.

For the past three years he had fought and fought and fought and won. And now he's going to graduate. And then he's going to fight for three years more. And then for another three years. And another and another.

Befitting of the next pillar of Heroes.

Izuku opens his mouth and closes it again, unsure of what to say, or what to feel, even more so what to think. Something must've shown on his face because Toshinori frowns, a look of fatherly concern that Izuku has grown to be familiar with. "Son, are you—"

"Sorry, are you Deku? And All Might?"

Izuku jolts with surprise, the table shakes with his movement. He catches his glass just before it spills the second time. "Ah … can we help you?"

It's a father, mid-30s, carrying his son in his arms. He looks excited, eyes darting between Izuku and Toshinori. "Is it all right if my son takes a picture with you?"

The son isn't the only one getting a picture. After half of the restaurant finishes taking photos with them, Toshinori flags down the nearest waiter. "Is it possible for us to move into a private room?"

Their food comes shortly after they separated themselves from the crowd. Izuku forks at his steak, not particularly feeling his appetite. "Sorry about that," Toshinori says, apologetic. "I should have picked a more secluded restaurant.."

"No, it's okay," Izuku says, shrugging a little. "It happens." It occurs to him a little too late that All Might, of all people, would've known that. A bit embarrassed, he blabs, "I mean … you would know, of course.."

"It does happen, doesn't it," Toshinori says, with a small smile. The smile is snuffed out quickly. "I know the attention … I know this must be a lot of weight."

"It's—" Izuku pauses. What was he about to do, lie about this? To Toshinori? "I'm getting used to it."

"You will," Toshinori says. It doesn't sound like an encouragement, and he doesn't say it like a good thing either—it's said like a fact. And more than that, it's said like he is resigned to that fact. "Izuku. I need to tell you something."

Izuku watches as Toshinori puts down his spoon, the material clinking gently against his bowl. He had ordered something that looks like some kind of puree. Due to his health, Toshiniori's diet is a very short and restricted list. "I will be announcing it," Toshinori says, soft. "Your succession. I will announce it to the press on the day of your graduation."

"Oh," Izuku says. His throat feels dry. "Okay."

"Is that fine with you?"

It's odd that he asked that, Izuku thinks. It's as if Izuku has a choice in it. "Yeah. I mean, it feels … appropriate."

The perfect gift wrap to his journey; a rite of passage on the day of his graduation. In two weeks, then. In just two weeks, it'll be official. In just two weeks, he'll be the next—

He'll be everything that he has ever wanted.

Right?

"It won't be easy."

Izuku looks up at that. Toshinori looks back at him, silent, weary eyes. "It's not easy. This isn't.." Toshinori pauses. Smiles, brittle. "You already know that, of course. But what you need to know is that it won't get easier."

None of them are touching their food. Izuku can hear, very faintly, the noise of the restaurant from the outside of their VIP room. Warm conversations and clinking utensils.

"There are some things in this job that you will not get used to," Toshinori says quietly. Said like a fact. Like a resignation. "But I want you to know, son, that I couldn't have possibly picked a better successor."

Izuku smiles faintly, mirroring Toshinori's own. He stares at his steak. Medium rare. He had sliced a bite, earlier, the inside still pink and tender. The steak knife is light in his hand, unlike a cleaver. The meat was easy to cut, unlike a corpse.

He should've gone for salmon.

"Thank you, Toshinori-san," Izuku says.

---

"Dragon to Team Alpha. Requesting mission status, over."

Katsuki's eyes meet his. Izuku nods, taking the lead to respond. "Copy. Enemy's base secured," Izuku replies. "Uravity has secured the package—now en route to rendezvous with Charlie. Over."

"Casualties?"

The raid had been quick and efficient. Perhaps Izuku would've struggled if he were alone, but with Katsuki, Ochako and Tenya in his team, they were unstoppable—an empire of illegal trading crumbling down overnight, just like that. "Zero."

There is a nearly indecipherable note of pleasure in Ryukyu's voice. "Copy. Evac ETA in five minutes. Stay sharp, Heroes. Over."

"Copy."

The night air is cold, warded off by Izuku's thermal suit, but biting what's exposed of his face nonetheless. No stars tonight, and if there are, they wane against the lights scattered over the pier. The Triad doesn't seem to only be having control over air travel, as it turns out. Not that they'll be having control over anything at all after tonight.

"Y'know what I find strange?"

Izuku looks at him. Dynamight isn't really talkative on missions aside from the occasional cursing. Katsuki doesn't look back at him, rakishly hunched over the rooftop. What's visible of his eyes over the mask are sharply monitoring the docks below, watching for stray movement.

"What?" Izuku says. The other teams have managed to secure the other bases. He can hear the telltale screech of the police sirens, closing into the harbour.

"We never found Masa's body."

Izuku clenches his jaw, looking away. The sirens howl and howl. "I don't think we will," Izuku says. "They must've disposed of it."

"So he's dead," Katsuki says. "That's what you're saying."

Several police cars have arrived in the piers with a screech. "There is a high possibility of that being the case," Izuku says, looking straight ahead and not into Katsuki's eyes. "Though we'll never make sure if—"

"—if there is no body," Katsuki cuts. Izuku falls silent. Katsuki continues, flat, "For all we know, he could've escaped. Or someone else could've killed him."

It's a successful bust, tonight. They won't be going straight home—there will be celebrations in the agencies, both Ryukyu's and Best Jeanist. There might even be paparazzi already, ready to take snapshots of this sparkling victory and the soon-to-be UA graduates headlining it. "What makes you think that?" Izuku says softly. So soft that the wind almost beats his voice shut.

"From forensics we can determine that the witnesses were killed in the first week of March, and investigation has confirmed that they were uncontactable in this timeframe. Masa Mizuno didn't disappear in that timeframe. He disappeared before," Katsuki says. "In February, he was already MIA. But y'know what else I found strange, Izuku?"

Katsuki has stopped looking over the docks now, turning fully to look at Izuku instead. "The other witnesses were taken at the same time, killed off at the same time, disposed of at the same time—that's the Triad's MO. Bastards got their victims at their home, middle of the night—we found traces of violence in their respective residences. But Masa's place was clean. No struggle," Katsuki says. Easy and familiar, effortless as if laying out the equations to a physics problem that Izuku is struggling to solve. "Ain't that strange, Izuku?"

Izuku finally looks Katsuki in the eye. Always better than Izuku, him. Always smarter. Always. Izuku doesn't know why he thought he could fool Kacchan of all fucking people. "Kacchan—"

"Team Alpha, rendezvous at the meeting point. We are good to go. Over."

Both of them stare at each other, neither moving. Izuku has grown taller, over the years—a manifestation of One for All, he suspects—standing above Katsuki by a few centimetres. Even now, he still hasn't processed that; Katsuki, Izuku is sure, will always feel taller than him. A little bigger. "Team Alpha?"

Katsuki is silent and unmoving, eyes pierced on to him. He is still unmoving even when Izuku turns on his comm to reply. "Copy. We are facing a little issue," he says. "An enemy is attempting to escape captivity."

As Katsuki watches Izuku lie, Izuku thinks there is almost a smile on the former's face. "Do you need backup?"

"No," Izuku says, staring at Katsuki. Katsuki stares back. "Dynamight and I will take care of it. Over."

Izuku turns off his comm. Katsuki's face is expressionless—Izuku might have imagined that smile. Doesn't matter. Izuku says, quite calmly, "Is there anything else you find strange, Kacchan?"

"Oh, yeah," Katsuki says, tilting his head, roguish, and more than a little challenging. "Y'see, we've looked for Masa everywhere—his house, the Triad's base, every goddamn river in Musutafu and Tokyo—but there is one place we never looked at. One place where we had confirmed beforehand that Masa wouldn't be found."

That construction building on a quiet street. That bleach-scrubbed concrete in that small alley. The very first place they had confirmed Masa's disappearance. I didn't mean to do that, I swear, oh fuck, fuck, I didn't mean to do that—

"I thought I'd pay it a visit," Katsuki says. "And you know what I found?"

What? What? Izuku had thought of everything. Witnesses. Traces. Evidence. He had thought of everything, he had made sure that there would be—

"Nothing," Katsuki says. "There was absolutely fucking nothing there."

—nothing to be found.

"It was clean. Too clean. Even the CCTVs were wiped clean. Isn't that just strange, Izuku? Just some street in the shitty northern part of Musutafu, and someone has wiped clean all the records for the entire last week of February. Isn't that just absolutely fucking bizarre."

Kacchan is smiling now. It's familiar, that smile, one that Izuku recognizes. One that Kacchan always wears whenever he manages to solve a physics problem that Izuku can't.

"Thing is, only authorized personnel can access records like that. Heroes, for example. Or," Kacchan says, with that same satisfied grin, "students with Hero license."

Izuku stares at him, quiet. Kacchan is always smarter than him. Always has been. Izuku has never had any hope in hiding anything from him, and it's why a small part of Izuku will always hate him forever.

"What happened when Ochako met Masa Mizuno on February 26?" Katsuki says. There is a pause where Katsuki is silent—as if looking for something in Izuku's face—and then the grin abruptly disappears. "She killed him," Kacchan says.

It's said matter-of-factly, flat. She killed him. An easy conclusion to an easy question. The ultimate solution to everything.

"She killed him, and you and Tenya.." the grin makes a comeback but there is something different there, a deranged split of his face. Katsuki barks a laugh. "You helped her. Because of fucking course you would, you absolute fucking idiots!"

His voice echoes on the rooftop, sharp in the night wind. Izuku watches him in silence. This sensation is familiar, Izuku thinks, this sudden emptiness of hysteria. Hysteria, but not surprise, no—Izuku has known, deep down, that this would be the ultimate, unavoidable conclusion. Because Izuku knows Kacchan. Izuku knows him most. He has known Kacchan for all of his life and he knows immediately what Kacchan is feeling from just one look. He knows what Kacchan is thinking just from one fucking look.

And Kacchan knows him back. Kacchan knows him most. And because of that, Kacchan knows immediately what Izuku is thinking just from one fucking look.

"Are you going to kill me?" Kacchan says.

Izuku is thinking about it.

He is considering it. He could kill Kacchan, Izuku knows that. He is stronger, and therefore it's a possible task to accomplish. It would be a fight, sure—but they haven't fought each other in full strength for a while. Or rather, Izuku hasn't fought with anyone in full strength for a while, because having full control of One for All means he has to not do that if he wants people he fights to live.

But hasn't Izuku decided a while ago that he would kill for his friends?

Izuku thinks about Ochako, his best friend. And he thinks about her kind parents. And then he thinks about Tenya, his best friend. And he thinks about Tenya's amazing big brother. He thinks about his class—all of his closest friends.

But most of all, Izuku thinks of his mom. All that she has given him. He thinks of Toshinori. All he has given him.

He thinks of what he is going to succeed: the next pillar of Heroes. It's won't get easier. He thinks about—

About how Kacchan is standing so close to the edge of the roof.

So close. He has been there for a while now, standing just in front of the low rusty railings—they barely reach his waist. So close.

It would be a fight, but it doesn't have to be. It can just be a push.

As simple and easy as that: a push and then a ten-stories fall to concrete. A bottle of bleach. A farm full of ravenous pigs. An it was an accident. An a Villain did it, I tried to stop them, but..

What would happen if Kacchan finds out? The answer is easy. The ultimate solution to a physics problem. If Kacchan finds out, he'd have to kill him.

"Team Alpha."

Izuku doesn't have much time. This is his chance. It's a short timeframe, but he could still get away with this if he does it now. Easy. Just one little push.

"Team Alpha, requesting mission status. Over."

They look at each other, a tableau of silence poised over the ledge. Kacchan is staring at him with that look on his face again, like he's looking for something on Izuku's. A look he has when he's trying to solve a particularly challenging problem—something near curiosity. He finds it, perhaps, because his mouth turns into a grimace. And then Kacchan says, flatly and with some kind of disappointment, "No, you're not."

Izuku would kill for his friends. But Kacchan is his friend too.

"Team Alpha, do you need backup? Over."

He watches Katsuki touch his communicator with a gloved hand, eyes still on Izuku. It's over, now. Katsuki is going to report them, and then everything will be going down the drain. The past three years and all the future three years. The non-existent next pillar. His future, their futures—gone overnight, just like that.

Izuku thinks of his friends. Izuku thinks of his mom. Izuku thinks of his forever teacher who he thinks of as his father. But most of all, Izuku thinks of himself. And Izuku thinks, ponderingly, of the inexplicable relief that he feels at this moment. So much relief that he feels dizzy with the lightness of it. So much relief that he feels the best he's ever felt in three fucking years.

It's over. Everything is over and it's fucking—

"Copy. Mission success," Katsuki says calmly to his comm. "Rogue enemy captured. We'll rendezvous with the team in one. Over."

"Copy. Well done, Heroes."

Katsuki turns off his comm. Izuku blinks. He watches, perplexed, as Katsuki walks past him to the rooftop door. When Katsuki notices that Izuku isn't coming with him, he looks at him, annoyed. "The fuck are you standing there for? We gotta move or they'll think something is up."

Izuku stares at him. "You didn't tell her," he says, sounding shocked even to himself.

Katsuki raises a brow. "What?" and then understanding sinks in on his face. He barks a laugh, quick, before spinning on his heels. Izuku is still nailed to his spot when Katsuki has come close enough to jab a finger in Izuku's chest. "You're a fucking idiot," Katsuki says.

Izuku blinks. Katsuki isn't done. "Goddamn it, Izuku, this is why you're the dumbest motherfucker alive. I didn't tell her?" Kacchan shakes his head like he can't believe that Izuku could say something so stupid. "You should've killed me, stupid. What if I had told her?"

Izuku's head short-circuits, blank. "What..?"

Katsuki clicks his tongue in annoyance, as if pissed that Izuku is so slow. "Ugh," he says, with real disgust. "I knew you wouldn't be able to do it. Fucking hell, Izuku. If you were going to hide a murder then fucking commit to it, why fucking don't you."

"You.." Izuku feels light headed. "You're not … gonna report us?"

Kacchan rolls his eyes. "Why," he says, "in the actual goddamn fuck would I ever do that?"

"Because.." Izuku trails. Because it's the right thing to do. Because what they did is a crime and they need to be held responsible, which is how justice works. Because of course Kacchan would. Because why wouldn't he?

There is that look again on Katsuki's face, the physics-problem look. Cool and curious and merciless. "You are All Might's successor, Izuku," he says. "You are going to be a symbol. We are going to be a symbol. We've survived everything to get here—all that shit we had to go through … that fucking war we won."

Three years, fight after fight, Villains after Villains—all to get here. Izuku looks at him and he already knows what Kacchan would say next.

"What makes you think I'd let something like this.. " Katsuki says. "Take that away from us?"

Izuku doesn't know what to feel. He doesn't know what he's feeling. Relief turns into horror. Horror turns into hysteria. Izuku wants to laugh, and he does laugh. Fuck. Fuck. Because of course—of course. How could Izuku have been so stupid? Kacchan wanted this the most, and because Kacchan wanted it Izuku wanted it too. They were both in this since forever.

Kacchan would do what's right. Kacchan would do whatever it takes to be a Hero.

They were both in this since forever. And they'll stay here, Izuku realizes, for forever, too.

Katsuki doesn't say anything as Izuku laughs, his voice weak and halfway fucked, leaning against the nearest wall, hands covering his face. Kacchan was right—they'd have to get moving or it'd look suspicious. And they can't afford that, can they?

"How did you know?" Izuku says, when he's stopped laughing.

"I just fucking told you how—"

"No," Izuku says, putting his hands down. He looks at Katsuki in the eye. "How did you know?"

There is a pause before Katsuki replies. "You always have that fucked up smile on your face whenever you've done something stupid."

Izuku laughs again. "Right," he says. And then, "Are you not gonna ask why?"

"Why what?"

"Why.." why she killed him. But that doesn't sound right, because it wasn't Ochako's fault. And Ochako certainly wasn't the reason why everything turned out like this. "Why that man died."

Katsuki looks incredulous by the question. "What the fuck does it matter?" he says. "He's dead."

Right. Kacchan is always right. "Right," Izuku says.

"See, you got that stupid smile on your face again.." Kacchan pauses. "Izuku, if this gets out, we are fucking done."

"Yeah," Izuku says. "I know."

"If one of us fucks up," Kacchan says, "all of us are going down."

Izuku knows. Because they are class A. Because this adoration, idol-worship that they've all garnered is as all-encompassing as it is fragile. Because there is zero tolerance to perfection. "I know."

"You've brought us all here, Izuku," Katsuki says. "You've got us this far. You can't afford to fuck it all up now."

"I know," Izuku opens the roof door. They'd have to make respective reports when they get back to their agencies—their records would have to be consistent. They've still got work to do. There will always be work to do.

"I would never report you," Katsuki says behind him, as they go down the fire stairs.

"I kn—"

"Because Ochako is my friend."

That stops Izuku short. He looks back at Katsuki. Katsuki stares back at him from the top of the stairs, flat. "And you're my friend too, stupid."

Izuku stares at him. And then he thinks, oh. That's right. They were in this together, all along the way. Kacchan too. Kacchan has always been a part of it—and he has always been there even before everything. They know each other best, because Kacchan is his friend too.

They're all his friends. And isn't that just the fucking kicker?

Being a good person and a good friend, Izuku has come to realize, do not always see eye to eye.

"I think this is bad," Izuku says then.

"Now you think this is bad," Katsuki rolls his eyes, coming down the stairs.

"No, I mean. I think you aren't supposed to have this many people involved in a homicide."

First Shouto, then Koji, and then the alibis, and now Kacchan. It's a fucking group project. "Too late for that," Katsuki says. "We are all fucking in this now."

---

There are a lot of tears being shed in the classroom today. Denki, for example, has been sobbing as he asked everyone for their autographs. "I'm going to tattoo them to my body," he says, blowing his nose into some tissues Tsuyu had given him.

"Which part of your body?" Hitoshi asks, handing Denki's notebook back to him, now with his autograph in it.

"My tits, so you guys would always be in my heart."

"Ah," Hitoshi stares at the notebook in regret.

"Why are you guys still here?" Momo says, opening the class door. "The ceremony is going to start soon! Go to the auditorium, go, go, go—"

"Um," Izuku says, fumbling with his robe, "can someone help me—"

"Stay still," Ochako says, leaning over to button his robe together.

"Fuck's sake, Izuku," Kacchan comments, glancing critically at him. "It's your last day of school and you still can't tie a damn tie."

"I'll fix it," Tenya kindly steps over next to Ochako, fixing Izuku's bowtie into something that looks like an actual bowtie and not a piece of avant-garde art. The two fuss over Izuku's graduation attire like grandparents would their grandchild.

"This is so cute," Mina is snapping pictures of this scene from ten different angles. "I'm going to miss this. Ugh, I think I'm going to cry again. Toru, is my mascara running?"

"No babe, you're good."

"Guys!" Momo claps her hands, fondly exasperated. "Hello? The ceremony?"

"Right, right—"

"Oh, that is adorable," Momo says, her heels clicking on the marmer floor as she walks over to Koji. "Oh, Koji. you gave your pigeons little graduation caps … goodness, I am going to cry."

I made them myself, Koji signs proudly. Took me all weekend.

"I want pictures with them. Ochako, can you please take a picture of me and—"

"Momo," Iida reminds her kindly, "the ceremony."

"Oh, right, apologies," she still has one of the pigeons in her hands.

"But before we go … please allow me to say a few words," Tenya clears his throat gently, pushing his glasses up his face before he looks at them. "Today is my last day as your class rep."

"Oh, dude, you're gonna make me cry," Eijirou says, who is already crying.

"It has been an incredible three years, and I've been very privileged to serve this class throughout them all. Now that we are going our separate ways.."

"Noo, don't say that!"

"..I hope that we will still be there for each other," Tenya says. His voice is a little shaky. "I hope you know that you can always count on me, and that I feel very, very lucky to have come to know you all.."

When the class door abruptly opens with a bang, they are all currently crying and tackling Tenya to the ground. Aizawa-sensei is not impressed by the tearful sight.

"You brats," Aizawa-sensei says, looking pissed. His hair is slicked back and tied. It's still odd after all these years to see him all suited up. "The ceremony already started! What the hell are you all still doing here? Go, go! Midoriya, your tie"—he pauses, seemingly surprised that Izuku's tie looks, in fact, like a proper tie—"is fine. Go!"

They run throughout the hall, laughing with Aizawa-sensei chasing them just behind. The auditorium is already full, the echoes of students singing UA anthem filling up the entire school. The moment Class 3-A enters the room, tumbling and pushing and still laughing, the hall falls into a sudden halt.

On the podium overlooking the room, Nezu laughs lightly, breaking the silence. "Ah, there you are," Nezu says cheerfully. "3-A has finally joined us. Let's get you all graduated, shall we, Heroes?"

The ceremony lasts for an hour, and then the press lasts for another hour. It's not as crowded as Izuku expected it to be—UA has tightened their security commensurably, and the present paparazzi who passed the screenings are calm and orderly, not as rambunctious as Izuku has known them to be. Once the press conference is over, it's time for photo ops—where parents and children alike are scattered over UA grounds, fussing to take a million pictures for their albums.

"I'm so proud of you, Izuku."

"I know, mom," Izuku kisses her cheek. He hugs the flowers she got him to his chest with one hand and her shoulders with the other. "Thank you for everything."

"Three," Toshinori says, Izuku's phone poised in his hands. "Two … er. Do you need a moment, Inko-san?"

"No, no, I'm fine," she says, laughing, wiping a tear off the corner of her eyes. "I'm fine, yes."

"All right. Three, two, o—"

"Hey, hey, what's this?" Eijirou shows up out of nowhere. His dad and big sister are somewhere behind him, talking to Aizawa-sensei. "All Might, why don't you take a picture with them? I'll hold the camera."

"Ah," Toshinori looks hesitant. "But it's a family picture—"

"Take a photo with us, Toshinori-san," Izuku says.

"But—"

"One photo, Toshinori-san?" Inko says sweetly, and Toshinori lost the argument. The three of them stand together with Izuku in the middle. Izuku can see Eijirou grinning behind the camera. "Ready? Looking good, folks. Three, two, one!"

"Thanks, Eijirou."

"No problem. Hey, did you see the group chat? We're gonna meet back at the class to take a group picture. Mina and Kyouka are trying to get everyone to go."

"Oh, okay," Izuku says. "Mom, can you wait here? It shouldn't be too long."

"Of course, dear. Let's have lunch together after this, to celebrate," she looks at Izuku fondly, pushing a stray hair behind Izuku's ear. "All three of us. What do you think, Toshinori-san?"

For a second, Izuku thinks the man would refuse. But then he smiles, small and waning. "That would be lovely, Inko-san."

"Momo is asking someone to arrange the chairs in the classroom, so it won't get in the way in the photo and stuff," Eijirou says as they walk together to enter the building. "We did kinda mess it up earlie—oh, shit."

"What's up?"

"I need to go the admin real quick, I forgot to sign my intern documents," Eijirou cringes. "Oh no, they're closing office in like, five minutes—"

"Go, I'll do the chairs," Izuku says, patting his shoulder. "I'll tell the others to wait for you."

"Thanks, I'll be back ASAP!"

The hallway is mostly empty, but some of the classes are filled with students taking pictures. Everyone wants to have a last photo of them in their classroom, after all.

Izuku reaches the fourth floor. The hallway is silent—the class B kids must still be busy with their photo ops downstairs, and Izuku seems to be the first of his class to arrive. He enters his classroom absent-mindedly, thinking.

The press conference went well, in Izuku's tentative opinion. He had prepared a short speech beforehand and barely stuttered when he read it in front of the live cameras. It must still be airing all over national TV now. Izuku doesn't dare look at his Twitter notifications. He would need a manager now, he realizes. He has to talk about that later, with his mom.

Always work to d—

"Midoriya-senpai?"

It happened quickly.

Izuku barely registers the voice. No, he registers a presence behind him and a hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, and as always, his instinct kicks in. There is a resounding crash, and then the sickening snap of something breaking upon impact on UA's polished marmer floor.

Izuku breathes, his heart hammering in his chest. It happened so quickly. The first thing he realizes is that he isn't alone in the classroom. The second thing he realizes is that he had, out of reflex, pushed—

And the third thing.

He swallows, looking down. In her unmoving hands is a pink heart-shaped box. On top of it, tied prettily with a red bow, is the same letter Izuku saw her carry in that cafeteria weeks ago. Even from this distance he can catch her writing on it, feminine and curled: for Midoriya-senpai.

She must've waited for him here. She was waiting for him to get here so she can give him the—

And then he—and then he—

And then he pushed her.

"Kunieda—" Izuku's voice sounds distant to himself. "Kunieda-san?"

She doesn't answer.

It was an accident.

Her eyes are opened, unblinking. Head wounds always bleed a lot—the blood dyes her pale hair into red. Her neck is crooked at an unnatural angle.

It was an accident.

He doesn't know when he had kneeled down, a shaky hand outstretched to touch her neck. Her skin is still warm, but there is no pulse.

It was an accident.

Izuku doesn't know how long he was there, kneeling, watching her blood spread all over the floor. Like spilled milk. Redder than dragonfruit juice. He doesn't even realize that he had stayed still, so still like he was dead, shock silent as he looked at what he has done. He barely moves when the class door opens suddenly.

"Right? I think we can really persuade sensei to go on that trip if we—hey, Deku, what are you.."

Ochako's words fade. Izuku turns, slowly, blinking up at her. Ochako and Tenya are at the door, staring at him. At Kunieda Hanako laid crooked on the floor.

"I didn't mean to," Izuku says, to the silence. To himself. "I didn't—I swear, it was a—" it was an accident. It was one-hundred percent an accident. He didn't see her, he didn't know it was her, he didn't mean to—to—

There is a difference, Izuku thinks hollowly. There is.

But there isn't. He knows that. He has always known that. It doesn't matter if he meant to kill her or not—it doesn't matter why. Because, well, she's dead.

And he'd killed her.

"Deku. Deku, look at me."

"I'm sorry," Izuku says. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm, I'm—"

"Deku!"

Izuku looks at her. Her hands are somehow on his shoulders, squeezing tight—he doesn't know when that happened. Her eyes are sharp and clear, clearer than he had ever seen them in the past three weeks. "Calm down," Ochako tells him. And then, gentler, "That's what you told me, remember?"

"Ochako," Izuku says. It still doesn't feel real. A nightmare coming to life. "I … I really didn't.."

"We know," Ochako says calmly. "You didn't mean to."

"The rest of the class is arriving soon," Tenya says behind her. He had closed the door some time ago. "Should I get them to leave?"

"No," Ochako says. It's been a while since Izuku had seen her like this—so sure of herself as she takes charge of the situation. "It's all right. Tell them to come in here ASAP—we need all hands on deck for this one."

Right after she says it, the door opens, and Katsuki walks in. "This shit better be quick, I've got a meeting with my supervisor at sev—" he stops himself the moment he sees the scene in front of him. "Huh," he says, sounding mildly annoyed. "Guess I gotta fucking reschedule."

"Oh, perfect. Tenya, get in touch with Toru—we need her to get into the UA control room."

Tenya nods, going out of the door. "Katsuki," Ochako says, turning to look at him. "I need you to make a distraction."

Katsuki closes the door behind him, looking back at Ochako. There is an unspoken communication between the two for the next second. Katsuki tilts his head, a considering expression on his face. "Right wing," he says.

"No, do left. The second-year students are still in the right wing—left wing is empty right now."

"How big you want it to be?"

"Big enough to keep them busy. Make sure there are no casualties or witnesses—"

Katsuki rolls his eyes. "The fuck you think I am, an amateur?" he goes out of the door without further ado.

Silence fills the room again. Izuku looks at her. Finally finding his voice and what's left of his sanity, he says, "Did you just tell Kacchan to bomb the school..?"

She has her phone out, typing quickly on it. "No, I just told him to fake a Villain attack."

"Ochako," Izuku says, standing up, shaky. "This is … I can't—"

"Deku," Ochako says, looking at him. Calm and collected. His best friend, with her bright smile and her strong heart and her unstoppable bravery. "We can get away with this."

And the worst thing of all is that Izuku believes her. He really truly thinks that they can get away with this, because they are the best, because they are class A, the next Heroes of their generation. The best that there will ever be. If anyone could get away with this, it would be them.

Izuku slumps down, weak in the knees, to sit on a chair. They could get away with this. They could. Or maybe they couldn't.

He doesn't know which one is worse.

Ochako puts her phone to her ear. "Hey, Shouto. Can you come to the class real quick? And.." Ochako glances at Kunieda's body on the floor, calculating. "Do we still got some of those bleach in your brother's car?"