POV: Aizawa Shouta

Repeated chapter from Duplicitous, for continuity

Fucking villains.

Aizawa flung open the doors, bursting into the night air. The smell of smoke hit him, blown toward him on the evening breeze. A voice came from his left, startlingly close, and calm. So calm and unbothered.

"Looks like your concern has you distracted, Eraser."

Blue flames crashed toward him then in roiling waves. Aizawa slung his capture tape upward, and it found a hold on the overhang above him. His muscles clenched as he yanked himself up, hiding his breath. He smelled singe. Heat seared up his legs and back, licking at him, tasting him with ravenous hunger. Sweat blossomed on his brow from the exposure.

"Nice move. Guess you really are a Pro," the villain underneath him said as the flames died away. The man's hands were coming up again for a second attack. Fuck that.

"Not so fast," Aizawa warned.

His eyes throbbed when he nullified the villain's quirk. He swore he could feel his heartbeat in his face. The sensation had always been mild until his encounter with the Nomu, and it was an unpleasant distraction, even though he knew by now that the sensation would fade. He could fight through it and that's all that mattered.

The villain knew who he was, and didn't bother looking surprised as Aizawa slung his capture tape around him — until he yanked. When his feet left the ground, the man's eyes went wide, and he jumped for him. They met in midair. No need to bother with any fancy moves. He slammed the villain's scarred face with his knee, driving him into the ground. Aizawa leaned hard, digging his knee into the man's spine as he twisted one arm behind him, and gripped the back of his head with his free hand.

It was his first chance to really look at the shit stain, and he only needed one. The villain was younger than he'd first assumed — the scars made him seem older. The skin under his eyes and across the lower jaw was a hideous, purple hue. The scars were stretched tight, and it was as though the staples, crusted with old blood, were all that was keeping the scar tissue from pulling away from his living skin. The leather of his scarred arm was in Aizawa's grasp. It felt rough against his palm.

"What do you want, and where are your friends hiding," Aizawa said. It was not a question.

"My what?" was the villain's disinterested retort.

Aizawa's next words were clipped. No bullshit. No empty threats.

"Your right arm's next."

Credit where due, the pinned man didn't scream when his arm broke, only giving a loud grunt of pain. And it felt good to manhandle him — to take some of his displeasure and unhappiness out on someone. His adrenaline was surging, pulsing, pushing him forward. His eyes were beginning to burn, but he let the high of the violence carry him past it.

It was for the best, really, that he had come out instead of Vlad, Aizawa decided. One of the other Heroes would've had qualms about what needed to happen next. They would've pussyfooted around with their idle threats in an effort to make the son of a bitch talk. He had no such reservations.

He would've loved to take his time with this. To have a cigarette for the moment. He'd enjoyed torturing the last person who'd offended his sense of decency, and it had been like sipping on fine wine. He didn't have the time for that though. In the distance, blue flames were dancing up the trees. There were still students in the forest. Undoubtedly there were more villains in there with them. The burning in his eyes was growing stronger, more pronounced. Sharper. His skull felt like it was going to split open. There was no time to sip and savor. He had to drink fast.

"Be logical about this. At least save your legs. It would be a real pain to have to carry you off to jail without them."

"You can take your time, Eraser Head."

The villain's tone, his patience, was unsettling. Like what was happening was merely expected — an eventuality even. In the distance, a rumble of what might have been thunder had the skies not been so clear and bright.

"What's that?"

"Mr. Aizawa!" The voice came from someplace behind him, at the edge of the forest, and it sounded like Iida. Aizawa blinked in surprise, and bit back a curse.

"Stay back!" Aizawa ordered, but that was all the distraction the villain had needed. He rolled out from under him, still wrapped in capture tape, and rose to his feet. There was a dull ache forming behind his eyes now that he'd released his quirk.

"That's exactly the performance I'd expect out of a UA teacher. Tell me, Hero…"

There it was. That leisurely tone, as though there was no place he'd rather be than right here getting his ass kicked. Aizawa yanked on his capture tape to tighten his hold on the villain, but it sliced right through him. His torso severed into two and blood spurted from him in a thick rain.

Aizawa tried to get his quirk to kick back in. He was all that stood between this shit stain and the students behind him. Fuck. He could feel it coming — it was a tsunami behind his eyes, rising, coming so close to crashing across the land. He exhaled a breath as he felt his quirk flood back, but something was wrong. Something was wrong with the villain. Was it that the fire he shot earlier wasn't his quirk?

"You worried for your students?"

His body was disintegrating away, falling to the ground in thick, viscous clumps. It wasn't blood — it was mud. The scum of the earth found its true form, collapsing in on itself. His head seemed to float, decapitated, still mocking.

"I wonder if you can save them in the end." His mouth was collapsing around his final, ominous words. "See you soon."

No, he realized. It was only a copy. It was a copy based on something real — real enough that those flames could have consumed him if he had moved a breath slower. But the copy was gone, and the students were still here. He finally looked to see which group had returned — it was Iida, Mashirao, Kouji, and Minoru.

That meant Momo was still in the forest.

He had to go after her.

"Everyone get inside," he commanded. "I'll be back."

He ran deeper into the forest, toward the glowing blue flames in the distance. Judging by what the villain had said, the students were their primary targets, and most of their attack would be focused on them.

"Mr. Aizawa!"

Midoriya's voice brought him to a stop, and Aizawa drew in a steep breath when he saw him. Kid looked like shit. His arm was ravaged, and he was carrying that small boy, Kota, on his back. Their exchange was fast — it took only a second to diagnose that Midoriya wouldn't be put off from his path to Mandalay. Better to take advantage of it. He took reluctant charge of Kota, and gave Midoriya his message.

He would deal with the consequences of his permission when the dust settled.

The villain may have said more than he had intended in the few words they'd exchanged. The students were the targets — he needed to leave Kota with the rest of the class and get out to the frontline, where he belonged. The child clinging to him, almost choking him with an iron grip on the capture tape around his neck, begged for reassurances the entire way. In his ears, Mandalay's voice.

"We've discovered one of the villain's targets. It's a student named Kacchan. Kacchan, you should try to avoid combat and stick to a group I hope you can hear me!"

Easier said than done. He'd already given the okay for them to defend themselves — Bakugo would be the last person to give up the opportunity. Hell, knowing he was a target would probably whet the kid's appetite. Little Pomeranian.

Should he go for Bakugo, or Momo?

The building was just ahead. He could leave Kota with Vlad and the other students, and get back out there, but he lowered the child to the ground as they came around the corner. The door to the classroom was open.

"—from the Pros and start picking you off."

It was the shit stain.

Aizawa lunged for him, kicking the villain in the head with force that took the fucker down to the ground.

"It's no use, Vlad," he announced, giving in to his baser instincts. He pulled back his foot and stomped. He heard bones snapping, but he'd heard bone snap when he broke the clone's arm, too. It was satisfying nonetheless. "This guy's just trying to provoke you. He won't talk."

Another heavy kick. One of the students gasped aloud, caught off-guard by his rampant violence, unfitting of a Hero. Momo would have understood. His feet were getting somewhere though. The villain was collapsing in on himself, smashed into nothing but grit and mud. It caked the soles of his boots and made them slick.

"Look at him." He felt like a parent rummaging loudly through the closet, showing a child there were no monsters to be seen. "I fought one before."

"Eraser. What's it like out there?" Vlad asked.

"Hard to say. I left to direct our defense, but I ended up taking care of Kota. Look after him while I go back to the frontline. I'm counting on you to keep defending this place."

Aizawa turned his back to leave, but Vlad asked, "Is that wise? We hardly know anything about them."

He wanted to curse. They were professional Heroes, and the students were the targets. He estimated that less than half of the students were safe in this classroom. That he even deigned to answer a question like this made his blood run hot.

"You'll be just fine. The other copy of him I fought earlier used the same attack. I think their strategy was to send their strongest fighters here to keep our attention, since we're the Pros. That's how they're trying to disguise the fact that there are so few of them out there."

He turned to leave again, his word final, when Kirishima interrupted.

"If there aren't many then we should be fighting too!"

Iida behind him with, "Yes! You need strength in numbers!"

"No!" His patience was gone now. He didn't expect the students to think rationally, it seemed the only one remotely capable of that was Momo, but he'd had enough. "If they're not here for us then they're after the students. We know about Bakugo, but they might be targeting others as well. We're still sorely lacking in information. The only way we win this is by making sure you students are protected."

He turned his back and slammed the door behind him before anyone else could say another word. His hands clenched into fists as he rushed from the building, feeling time slipping away. The blue flames in the distance danced higher, consuming the trees. Smoke was reaching the building now. He could taste it in every breath, and it stung his already aching eyes. The air was growing thick with it. A pair of students emerged from the path out of the forest, pulling off gas masks. They were from the other class. He went to them.

"Do you know where any of the others are?" he demanded, pointing them toward the safety of the building.

"No," one girl answered. "There was fighting and yelling in the woods, but not close. I think the villains were trying to take students."

He left them then, running into the forest. The muscles of his legs pumped as he abandoned the path, leaping over fallen trees and branches as he followed the sounds of the night. The smoke was creeping into his lungs, and his chest tightened with the strain as he pushed himself to go beyond. His eyes burned, tears welling up in them. His head was beginning to ache deeply. He found another group of students huddled in a clearing, masked. One gave a huge cry of relief at the sight of him. Another handed him a gas mask, and he pulled it on.

"The smoke isn't just from the fires," they explained. "One of the villains created a gas."

"Where did you get the masks?" Aizawa asked after he took a long, deep breath of clear air.

"One of the class 1-A students was making them and passing them out."

The corner of Aizawa's lips turned upward in a smile despite himself.

"Stay with me," he ordered.

Class 1-B students were far better listeners than his class, he noted, as they obediently did as he told them. He led the way back through the forest until the building was in sight, then he went back in search of more.

When he emerged again with another group of students, ambulances had begun to arrive. Midoriya was on a stretcher, and a team of paramedics was lifting him into the back of the first ambulance. Todoroki was nearby. A paramedic handed Aizawa a bottle of saline at his request, and he flushed his bloodshot eyes. When his vision cleared, he let his gaze rake across the growing crowd as the students from inside began to spill out now that the danger had passed. The villains had accomplished what they'd come here to do. One of the Pussycats whispered to him that they had captured Bakugo.

Shit.

He wiped his pulsing eyes with the back of his hand, then looked across the students again — taking inventory now — and concern deepened. Surely he'd made a mistake. So he went through them again. Momo was nowhere to be found.

"Has anyone seen Yaoyorozu?" he demanded, raising his voice. Heads began to turn in his direction. He asked again, louder. "Has anyone seen Yaoyorozu?"

"She was in the woods—" someone stammered out. "She was handing out masks."

"She was with Awase. Has anyone seen Awase either?" another voice asked.

His mask was tucked in the waist of his pants; he took it out now and began to pull it on. His earlier consideration was coming to fruition — Momo was in the woods still. He regretted that passing thought now, especially after all the shit he'd already gone through for her. He'd put too damn much into the girl to let her die now. But, as he looked at the blazing forest ahead of him, he realized how monumental the task ahead of him truly was.

"I'm going back in," he said to Vlad over his shoulder.

The other Hero had the good sense not to disagree with him this time.

Aizawa pulled the mask down over his face as he moved back into the shadow of the forest. Blue light fueled the sky, brighter than daylight, and radiating heat. A few steps in and the burning forest swallowed him whole.

His body was slick with sweat, and his clothes stuck to his body as he moved. The fire was ripping through the treetops overhead; it was dangerous to utilize the branches overheard, but he saw no other way to make headway. Aizawa slung out his capture tape, using it to grab onto branches and maneuver deeper into the trees. Each move was precarious. Hot ash rained down on his head, singing his skin and clothes.

What if the villains had taken her.

Once the idea entered his head, genuine panic and certainty came on its heels. She would be a prime target, right alongside Bakugo. She was considered the top student — she would be an easy target to pick, and he knew better than anyone that there was a part of her that was deeply susceptible to their influence. Her quirk would benefit the League of Villains wildly — imagine if they had someone who could make them anything. They would be unstoppable. Midoriya had only found out about Bakugo being a target, but that didn't mean he had been the only one.

The branch above him splintered from his weight as he went launch himself forward. He jerked violently to one side as his capture tape came loose, and he spilled to the ground with a shout of pain and surprise. A fold of his tape was burning, and Aizawa pushed himself back to his feet so that he could stomp it out.

"Mr. Aizawa!"

It wasn't Momo's voice, but he turned toward it anyway. The smoke was dense here, and he squinted to see through the lenses of the mask until he saw them. It was Awase, from class 1-B. Aizawa ducked as he crossed to him, suddenly aware of the loud crackling of the flames.

"Are you hurt?" Aizawa demanded, and the boy shook his head. "Was Yaoyorozu with you?" A nod. "Where is she?"

"Mr. Aizawa," Awase began, already stammering. "There was a Nomu—it—it was hunting her—"

"Where is Yaoyorozu?" Aizawa demanded again, coming a step closer.

"She—"

The boy was cracking from the stress and panic, his hands gesturing wildly. The tightness in Aizawa's chest worsened. Fuck. Fuck. They'd taken her, they'd really taken her. They'd wrongly assumed that Bakugo had been the main target, but it had been Momo all along — otherwise they would have sent the Nomu after Bakugo, not her. His own panic intensified as, in a split second, he thought of all the ways the League could hurt her. Break her. He could imagine what she was going to go through better than most.

"O-Over here," Awase said suddenly, pointing.

Aizawa's eyes followed the student's finger, and relief crashed through him, icy cold. Momo laid crumpled in the leaves, pushed against a boulder for shelter against the fire and debris.

He went to her.

Aizawa knelt beside her, taking her wrist in one hand to check her pulse. It was steady. He pulled off her mask for a moment to lower his ear to her mouth. Her breaths were shallow, but present. She was bleeding profusely from a wound on her head. Aizawa replaced her mask, then drew her up into the shelter of his chest. Unconscious, she was deadweight in his arms, but he only tightened his grip on her. Her head lolled unconscious against his shoulder.

"Is there anyone else out here with you?" Aizawa asked, and Awase shook his head. He shifted Momo against him. "Stay close to me. Let's go."