The world didn't end with a bang, nor did it end with a whimper.

And now, it hasn't ended at all.

Or, it wouldn't end. Not if Shouta had anything to say about it.

But the fact that he was indeed in the past is only made more and more obvious to Shouta as he shuffles down clean, unbroken roads that used to be familiar.

No one pays him any mind either, which is a plus. He still tries to keep to the shadows as much as he can though. Acting inconspicuous was a skill he had honed in his hero career, and it was as useful now as ever.

Doesn't help that he still looks like a hobo—probably smells like one too—but so long as he kept to himself, people should ignore him and mind their own businesses.

It had been decided after they'd all gotten some sleep that they would, in fact, mess with the timeline. At least a little bit. And if they do somehow get erased from existence, then he supposes it'll no longer be their problem to solve.

Shouta honestly sees no issue with that. It's a win-win.

He'd had a lot of time to think last night, since he had taken the first watch as his kids slept, and Shouta had come to a quiet realization.

This whole situation seemed too good to be true.

Despite his earlier fears, all of his remaining students had been found alive and uninjured. They had shelter for the night, no one was currently trying to kill them, and there was food in their stomachs.

The world hadn't even ended yet.

It's not like they'd had much of anything left to live for in the future. If it wasn't for his students keeping him going, Shouta's not really sure what he would do with himself. Without them, and without Hizashi, he probably would have just...

...Well, it wasn't worth thinking on.

His kids were alive, and that's all that mattered.

The night had been mostly uneventful. None of them were very good at sleeping through long stretches of time anymore, so as expected there were a few nightmares or random bursts of restlessness.

As usual, Fumikage got up to wander around before returning, and even Mei had disappeared for a while.

By the time she'd returned about an hour later, it was the end of Shouta's shift, so she had taken the next one. And then before he knew it, it was morning, and time for him to head out.

There's not many people out and about at the moment either, so it's all the easier for Shouta to fly under the radar. He'd been walking for a while now. It was nearly lunch time, and for once he did in fact know the exact time. Funny how being able to look at a functional clock helped with that.

UA was just ahead, and he can already hear the reporters talking over themselves, still trying to get in. Not that they would be successful, at least, not without the gates being conveniently disintegrated right in front of their eyes.

Speaking of, seeing UA whole and unbroken right in front of him was bringing up a lot of memories.

Part of Shouta is tempted to just go ask Nedzu for help, but he's just as unable to make it through the front gates as any other civilian without a pass. He's not certain he'd even be able to get far enough to see Nedzu, let alone ask for help, considering the other him must already be in the building.

He'd probably just get taken out by Snipe or Ectoplasm before he could so much as reach any of the buildings.

And then he'd be no help to anyone, least of all his students.

Really, any situation that lead to him being captured was a no-go in Shouta's mind. The last time he'd been taken hostage had been... No, now wasn't the time to dwell on the past.

He had a job to do.

It's quite difficult to shoulder past the sea of reporters to get to the front, but he manages.

And when he sees what looks like Shigaraki, back from the dead and about to disintegrate the front gates of UA, Shouta does the first thing that comes to mind.

He punches the man square in the face.

And then he punches him again for good measure, even though the first punch had knocked Shigaraki out cold. He feels a rush of smug satisfaction flow through him at the sight. He kind of wants to punch the bastard a third time. But unfortunately, beating the shit out of Shigaraki right here and now wasn't a very logical decision.

He'd better not waste any more time.

Being very careful to avoid the man's hands, Shouta binds him with the capture weapon snugly. There was no way he was getting out of this one.

"Hey!" Yells one of the reporters, shoving her microphone in Shouta's face—and he has to try very hard not to bite the damn thing, though his lip does curl upwards in distain. "You're that scruffy guy from earlier, why are you attacking an innocent civilian?!"

'Innocent civilian', what a load of bullshit.

Had Shigaraki been allowed to destroy the gate blocking their entry, Shouta knows exactly what would have happened. Vultures, the lot of them, eagerly rushing in without so much as a question. These types of people always seemed to think they were above the law.

Not that Shouta was any better at the moment, considering he was kidnapping a seemingly 'innocent' person.

Shouta says none of this, however.

The clock was ticking before someone tried to stop him—a hero, the police, or even a good Samaritan. It's probable that Shigaraki's caretaker Kurogiri was watching as well. He needed to get out of here. Now.

He hefts Shigaraki over his shoulder and takes off the way he came, easily losing the handful of reporters that try to follow him.

It's difficult getting back to the hideout without being noticed by more cameras or people, considering he has a body slung over his shoulder, but Shouta manages.

There's also the matter of dodging Kurogiri.

He'd been forced to kill the shadowy man once before, and Shouta isn't exactly looking forward to a repeat. Knowing Kurogiri's true identity as well... In a way, Shouta had technically been responsible for both of his deaths. He tries not to think about it.

Luckily, Kurogiri never makes an appearance, and he can only hope that's not a bad omen.

He'd taken a winding path back to their new hideout, just in case he was being tailed, so it takes much longer for him to get back. His right leg was sending a stab of pain up his spine with every step, and Shigaraki somehow seems to get heavier and heavier with every passing minute.

Taking a moment to adjust the dead weight on his shoulder, Shouta knocks their code on the door and waits. It's only a few seconds later—though it feels like an eternity—that the door opens a crack, revealing the wary face of Ochako.

"You got him," she says, opening the door wider to let him in and staring intently at Shigaraki.

Shouta nods, "I did," he mumbles in reply, before depositing the man none too gently in the middle of the room. He makes sure to securely tie Shigaraki's hands to a pillar, above his head and in plain sight.

Then, so that they won't be overheard in case the man wakes up, he stuffs some earbuds in Shigaraki's ears. The sight of his youthful face leaves Shouta feeling struck though. How old even was Shigaraki at this point? Twenty? He's barely older than Shouta's students.

Not wanting to spend any more time looking at the face of a dead man, he gags and blindfolds Shigaraki with some extra sections of his capture weapon.

His kids gather around, circling the unconscious man like vultures.

"Have you come to a decision?" Shouta asks, eyeing the way they had split into two groups, each on either side of the room. They all nod. "One at a time then, alphabetical order."

Tsuyu perks up, knowing that in terms of family names she was typically first. Shouta nods at her, watching as she takes in a deep, steadying breath.

"I vote... kill," she says softly, hugging her arms as she glances down at their captive. "You know what he did to my siblings, kero... I won't let that happen again." No one says anything.

They did know what Shigaraki had done, and it didn't bear repeating. Fumikage crosses the room to stand at Tsuyu's side, pulling her into a half hug without a word.

Shouta thanks her for her vote in a soft voice, knowing the decision must have been weighing heavily on the girl. He doesn't blame her.

"Tch, guess it's my turn," Katsuki says after it's clear Tsuyu is done talking.

"While I'd love nothing more than to get rid of the hand fucker, I vote we disable him," Katsuki scowls, fingers twitching at his sides before he crosses his arms and looks away. "Getting rid of the body would fucking suck," he grumbles, almost under his breath, but it's still loud enough for them all to hear.

"Couldn't you just blow the body up?" Hitoshi asks, making sure to catch Katsuki's attention before he signs the words.

"NO! I mean, I could, but-" Katsuki sputters, "we're not talking about this!" He throws his hands in the air, eyes wild. "Who's next?! Someone else fucking vote!"

Hitoshi just lets out a rasping laugh at the boy's distress, while Katsuki looks between everyone who hasn't voted yet. Shouta just resists the urge to sigh. Katsuki's gaze quickly flits over to Dark Shadow, who had perked up.

"͟I͡ w̵an̕n̛a̢ ͞ki͜l҉l him!̕" Dark Shadow crows in a sing-song voice, wriggling excitedly by Fumikage's side. "̵Cąn̸ ̡we͝?" they flicker erratically, before going still, "͠sh͟o͏ul̢d ̨w͢e̶?"

"That's what we're voting on, Dark Shadow," Shouta confirms, huffing in fond exasperation at the living shadows enthusiasm. "Thank you for your vote."

"You'҉re ̡w͝e̶l̨cǫme, Pa̷p̛aza̛wa~͏"̛ they coo, eyes squinting shut before they settle back down, cuddling up against Tsuyu.

Shouta lightly shakes his head in response. Taking a moment to mentally go over the alphabet, his eyes land on Mei, who was hunched over in the shadows and completely distracted. "Mei," he grunts.

"Hm?" Mei looks up from what she was fiddling with, looking around the room in confusion before pointing at herself. "Is it my turn?"

"Yes, Mei, it's your turn," Shouta says, hoping that whatever she had wouldn't explode.

Mei nods quickly, letting out a little hum as her attention switched back to her current invention. "I vote disable," she says simply, before sitting down on the floor to rummage through her bag. "Murder is unfortunately illegal, and I can't work on my babies in jail!"

Her soft cackling bounces around the room, and Shouta glances over at Shigaraki to make sure the man was still unconscious. He was.

"Thank you for your vote, Mei," Shouta hums, eyeing some of the things she was pulling out of her bag. Most of the things he recognized, while others he didn't, with certain bits and pieces even looking as though they were brand new. Interesting. "It's your turn now, Izuku... Izuku?"

He turns to look at Izuku, brows furrowing in concern when he sees that the boy's gaze is firmly fixed on Shigaraki.

"...Disable," Izuku whispers after several more moments of silence, a far away look in his eyes. "Maybe this time..." he trails off, mumbling something that Shouta can't quite decipher.

"You still in there, 'Zuku?" Katsuki asks in an uncharacteristically soft voice, tilting his head to catch Izuku's eye as he bumps their shoulders together.

"S-sorry! I just..." Izuku tenses, hands flailing wildly before one settles to tug at his hair. "We got a second chance, maybe... maybe he could have one too."

Shouta's not quite sure what to say to that, and it seems like no one else does either. Until Hitoshi speaks up, that is.

"Well, I vote we kill him," Hitoshi rasps as loud as he can, rubbing at his throat in discomfort. "Bastard deserves it."

Izuku winces minutely, and rubs the back of his neck with a slow nod. At his side, Katsuki's eyes narrow, before he turns to look at Hitoshi.

"Wow. Your argument is so goddamn compelling. Look at me, I'm crying," Katsuki deadpans, but his expression quickly morphed into a sardonic grin. "...You know what, I change my vote—I want to kill him even less now."

Hitoshi scowls. "Oh, you son of a–"

"Boys," Shouta cuts them off, and pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He supposes their current teasing was better than being at each other's throats like before, but now wasn't the time. "It's Fumikage's turn to vote."

Fumikage looks up at the mention of his name, and takes a moment to clear his throat.

"...It is uncertain how the future may be effected by our actions," Fumikage tilts his head thoughtfully, looking between everyone in the room.

"Either decision may spell our doom, but I think I will vote to simply disable him," he goes on, ignoring the slightly betrayed mutterings of Dark Shadow. "Less blood on our stained hands..."

Dark Shadow sulks, practically melting around Tsuyu's shoulders. "...Ņo͞ kil̸l,͠ ̧F͡um̵i̷?" They sounded almost sad about it.

"My vote is merely one of many, the die has not yet been cast," Fumikage shakes his head, though there's a note of a fond smile in his voice despite his solemn expression. He pats his shadowy sibling's head then, speaking even softer. "Please do not feel the need to change your own vote, my friend..."

He tilts his head then, and says "I do believe it is now Occhan's turn?"

"I..." Ochako frowns, fidgeting with her fingers. She looked like she was thinking rather hard about her answer, despite having already decided. "...I can't vote to kill him, that'd make us no better than them," she hisses, shoulders tensing as she spits out the word.

Then, she looks up abruptly and locks eyes with Shouta, a determined fire burning in her eyes. "His quirk is five-point activated, like mine, we can disable him."

Her hand clenches into a tight fist in a way very reminiscent of how Izuku used to act.

Shouta nods and murmurs another soft 'thank you', before turning to look at Momo, who was the last one to voice her decision.

Momo stares back, expression carefully blank as she kept her arms firmly wrapped around herself. "Fumi is right, we can't know how this will effect things," she nods at Fumikage, before looking down at Shigaraki, eyes as hard and cold as ice. "Even so, I say we kill him, then he can't pose a threat."

All his kids had voted now, so he takes a moment to tally them in his head.

"...So that's four votes to kill, and five votes to disable."

Shouta understands why so many of his kids had voted to kill—honestly he's about half a second away from snapping Shigaraki's neck himself and just being done with it. But, his students had made a decision, and he would respect that.

If his vote had counted, it would have only lead to a tie anyways.

"How do we want to go about this?" Shouta asks, looking around the room. He already knew that he'd be the one 'doing the deed' so to say.

He'd always been the one willing to do things other heroes deemed 'below' them.

Despite the fact his kids had made the final decision here, he would never expect, nor force them to, carry out the actual deed. That's what he was here for. Specifically in this case, he was willing to mutilate or kill someone so that his kids wouldn't have to live with the guilt.

Mentally shaking his head, Shouta tunes back in to the discussion.

Izuku was frowning heavily in thought. "W-we could just cut off both his pinky fi-ingers," he mutters, wringing his hands. "Th-though... they could just reattach them..."

"Chop his arms off, can't reattach that," Momo shrugs, Hitoshi nodding along with her words.

"That would risk our captive succumbing due to blood loss," Fumikage helpfully points out, "a fate I assumed we were trying to avoid."

"His hands then," Momo counters, dragging her finger over her own wrists as example. "We can cauterize the wounds, and then there's zero chance of his quirk mutating to be able to use less digits." She glances around the room as she speaks, eyes landing on Katsuki, who bristles.

"Don't fucking look at me, I'm not doing that shit," Katsuki snarls, holding his hands to his chest protectively.

Arguing about this wouldn't get them anywhere.

"No one's doing anything they don't want," Shouta says with a heavy sigh, and raises his hands in what he hopes is a soothing manner. While he's at it, he shuffles to stand between Momo and Katsuki to break their lines of sight. "Fumikage is right that cutting off too much would just kill him, and Momo's right that his quirk could compensate..."

He turns to stare down at their captive then. It doesn't really matter what they chose, Shigaraki wasn't going to be leaving here in one piece.

"Regardless, this isn't going to be pretty," Shouta goes on to say. "...If any of you don't want to stick around for this, now's the time to leave." He says these words in a much softer voice, letting them know it was alright if they chose to leave.

None of them should have to see this.

Exchanging glances, a few of them take him up on the offer. He watches as Mei packs up all her inventions, shortly followed by Katsuki, Izuku, and Tsuyu. The four of them hesitate at the door.

Because unfortunately, they still had yet to come to a final decision.

"So... just his hands, or?" Shouta ventures, gesturing at Shigaraki as he looks between them all. No response. "...I kind of need to know, before I just start lopping shit off," he tries for more of a joking tone to break the tense air that had fallen over the room.

The comment earns him a few stiff laughs, but not much more.

"...Lop 'em off, sensei," Ochako eventually says with a tired smile, and most of the others nod in agreement. It takes her another moment to clarify. "His hands, cut off his hands."

Guess that settled it.

Hitoshi muffles a snort behind his hand, and Shouta raises an eyebrow at him in question. "He won't be the hand fucker anymore after this," the boy signs in explanation, sporting a familiar impish grin.

Shouta just shakes his head in fond exasperation, and shuffles closer to stare down at their captive.

He's a little surprised that Shigaraki was still unconscious—maybe he'd punched him harder than he thought? It would certainly be easier for everyone if Shigaraki stayed out the entire time he was here, though he wasn't going to get his hopes up.

Just to be sure he was still unconscious though, Shouta nudges the man with the toe of his boot.

...No response. Good, that meant he was probably still out.

But that didn't mean he could afford to let his guard down. Even unconscious and bound, Shigaraki still posed a very real threat.

Mindful of his hands, Shouta shifts the man around so his bound hands were held out in front of him, and secures the rest of his body to the crumbling pillar using his capture weapon. It should hold well enough in case he woke up, so long as he didn't get his hands on it. Well, they wouldn't have to worry about that for much longer.

There was a time when Shouta would have balked at what he was about to do, but that part of him had died long ago. Along with his husband, daughter, friends, and students.

That doesn't mean he's going to enjoy any part of this, though.

There wasn't any room for things like emotions right now, so Shouta lets himself fall into the mindset he usually used when applying first aid to someone who was seriously injured. Something cold, detached. Logical. One step at a time.

Step one; apply a tourniquet.

He cuts the sleeves off of Shigaraki's hoodie to expose his arms. He would have had to do this anyway, but now he could use the loose cloth. Working quickly and efficiently, he cuts the cloth into strips, and ties them just above Shigaraki's elbows. He could tighten it later.

Step two; sterilize tool of choice.

They'd already made a small fire during the night for warmth, and later for sterilizing some water to drink. It wasn't very big since they were inside an enclosed space, and didn't want a lot of smoke, but it was good enough for what they needed. He takes a few moments to stoke the smoldering flames back to life.

Shouta carefully places the blade of his second favorite knife—he wasn't going to risk his best knife for something like this—in the fire. This one was serrated too, which would definitely be... handy. God, he's glad he didn't say that one out loud.

He lets the knife sit for several minutes, until the metal is glowing red and he's sure it's clean.

It needed to cool down a bit before he could really handle it, though. And despite the mention of 'cauterization' earlier, burning Shigaraki would just be needless torture, and leave him at a much higher risk for infection.

Step three; final preparations.

Under normal circumstances, the tourniquet would be tightened after the injury had already happened. But these were not normal circumstances. There would be a lot less blood loss if he took care of this now, a lot less mess.

He doesn't have much that might work as a windlass, but Ochako has a few metal pipes she'd picked up at some point that are small enough for him to use.

Shigaraki lets out a soft grunt when Shouta starts to tighten the tourniquets, but doesn't quite wake up.

And soon enough, both tourniquets were properly tightened, and the pipes secured so they wouldn't be knocked loose. The clock was ticking now, since these couldn't be left tightened indefinitely.

Step four; make the cut.

Holding Shigaraki's bound arms down with one foot and his free hand, Shouta positions the knife over the man's right wrist. Going through the joint would be much easier to accomplish than going straight through bone.

He knows that from experience.

Taking in a slow breath to steady himself, Shouta's grip on the knife tightens the moment before he presses down and starts sawing as quickly as he can. The serrated edges of the knife catch on the small bones in the wrist with an awful, grating noise that travels up the knife and into his arm.

Shigaraki finally wakes up.

The man starts screaming in pain, though the sound is muffled by the fabric still stuffed in his mouth. He trashes wildly against his bonds.

Luckily for them, Shigaraki's hands were being held palm-up, so he was unable to reach anything with all five fingers. He's already cut through the carpal tendons too, so at least one of his hands was unable to really move it's fingers. But while he isn't able to escape, the movement is still making it rather difficult for Shouta to make a clean cut.

It's much too late to back out now.

Despite being muffled, the screaming was still rather hard to listen to as it bounced around the small space. Shouta grimaces, cursing his enhanced hearing. The kids that stuck around to watch must not be enjoying all the noise either.

Optional step five; apply a light anesthetic.

Shouta pulls back his arm—the one that's not currently holding the knife—and punches Shigaraki in the temple. That doesn't seem to do the job though, so he grabs the man's head and slams it back into the pillar.

That shuts him up.

There's a good bit of blood already, and Shouta wasn't even halfway done with the one hand yet. He grits his teeth at the sharp, metallic scent assaulting his senses.

With a white-knuckled grip on his knife, he doubles down on sawing through Shigaraki's right wrist. He can hear the man groaning in pain, still twitching intermittently, but it's not enough to really disrupt him anymore.

The short struggle had Shouta's heart racing a mile a minute, and it's all he can do to keep the shaking of his hands from interfering with his work. A sliver of doubt sits heavy in his gut.

What the hell was he doing...?

How could he have deviated so far from the logical, no-nonsense hero he used to be? The old him wouldn't have even considered chopping off someone's hands in a dirty, rundown building. Especially not while being watched by teenagers.

He thinks he hears one of them gagging, but his ears were ringing too much to be sure.

It doesn't matter that Shigaraki was a villain. It doesn't matter that in the future he would destroy everything. Right now, Shigaraki hadn't yet done anything worth being tortured over. And this was torture. It was wrong.

But Shouta couldn't stop now.

What had he become?

He had to do this, as much as he didn't want to. He needed to stop Shigaraki. Shouta couldn't just sit back and watch as Shigaraki tore his world—his life—apart all over again. This would end here, before it ever had a chance to begin.

The other Shouta would thank him later.

But as he finishes sawing through Shigaraki's right wrist, and the hand falls away... Shouta feels like he's about to be sick.

Biting back the bile rising in his throat, he throws the dismembered hand into the fire and ignores the way it crackles. The smell of burning flesh and charred skin does nothing to help his nausea.

He tries to work faster to saw through the other wrist, wanting this to be over and done with already.

Soon, both of Shigaraki's hands were in the fire. The first one had already blackened, barely recognizable from what it once was. They couldn't exactly cremate the hands—that would require a much hotter fire, and for it to burn longer than they had time to sit around for—but this would be good enough. All that mattered was that there was no chance of the hands being salvaged.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, it smelled terrible. Sharp and pungent.

He could almost taste it.

At least the bleeding wasn't too bad, though there was still a decent amount soaking into the concrete floor and Shigaraki's clothes.

Breathing harshly through his nose in an attempt to not throw up or taste any more of the heavy metallic scent hanging in the air, Shouta wipes the excess blood on his knife off on Shigaraki's pantleg and ignores the shakiness of his hands.

Think logically, what's the next step?

...He needs to clean up. They didn't have any clean bandages to cover the sluggishly bleeding stumps, but he still had some fabric leftover from cutting off the hoodie sleeves. The tourniquets had held up well, were tight enough to stop Shigaraki from bleeding out, but this was still an important step.

As he does that, Shouta glances over at the four—five including Dark Shadow—kids that stuck around to watch.

Ochako was leaning against the wall and clutching her stomach as Hitoshi patted her back. At her feet was the telltale splatter of vomit, and her face still looked rather green as she continued to gag softly. Fumikage and Dark Shadow were huddled together, eyes locked onto Shigaraki's still form, though he can see loose feathers in Fumikage's trembling hand. Momo's expression, however, was scarily calm.

He wishes they hadn't stuck around, wishes they hadn't had to see that. Fuck, he wishes he hadn't had to see it.

Now, as tempting as it was to drop Shigaraki off at some random hospital and wash their hands of him—ugh—that wasn't a viable option.

Best case scenario, in Shouta's opinion at least, was that Shigaraki be locked up in Tartarus and never cause any problems for anyone ever again. But it's not like any of them could just walk into Tartarus and make that happen. No, they needed help if they wanted Shigaraki locked up in any prison, let alone a specific one.

Luckily, Shouta knew just the person to ask for help.

He drops the unconscious Shigaraki at Detective Tsukauchi's feet.

It had taken him a while to get here, since he still had to dodge any potential witnesses, and this time he'd been heading for the police station.

But, he remembers carrying unconscious villains right through the front door in the past, and luckily no one stops him as he heads straight for the detective's office.

The look of absolute, unadulterated bewilderment on said detective's face almost makes Shouta laugh, if only this weren't such a serious matter. Tsukauchi spends several seconds just looking back and forth between Shouta and Shigaraki, before gesturing at the latter with a sort of helpless exhaustion.

"Why...?"

There's too many ways that one question could be answered, and they don't have a whole lot of time. Well, more like he doesn't have a whole lot of time. So far it seemed Tsukauchi wasn't aware that he wasn't the same Eraserhead he was used to dealing with, and Shouta was going to use that to his advantage for as long as he could.

He had to work fast though, before they figured out he wasn't really supposed to be here.

Now, Shouta could just dodge the question. He could say something like 'all you need to know is this guy's dangerous' or something else equally cryptic, then disappear before the detective could ask him any questions.

But that wouldn't be very logical.

What if Tsukauchi let Shigaraki go, or took him to an unguarded hospital where he was allowed to escape? He's not sure he would be able to capture the villain quite so easily the second time around.

So he has to tell Tsukauchi something.

Shouta has never been a very trusting man, and much of the information he knew now from having lived through the future could cause a lot of trouble if the wrong people got their hands on it. There were very few people that Shouta would even consider confiding in. But in this particular situation, there's one good thing going for him.

Tsukauchi Naomasa's quirk—Lie Detector.

The fact that Tsukauchi was already 'in the know' about the whole AfO vs. OfA situation was also a plus. He was trustworthy.

And so, Shouta takes in a deep breath, and tells the truth.

"This is Shigaraki Tomura, previously known as Shimura Tenko before he was taken in by the villain known as All for One," he says simply, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't be overheard by anyone other than Tsukauchi. "I caught him about to break into UA—he and his associates are planning to kill All Might. His quirk is called 'Decay', and allowed him to disintegrate anything he touched with all five fingers."

That should be enough of an explanation to start with, right?

It obviously wasn't the answer Tsukauchi was expecting though. The man had gone pale rather quickly, and looked as though he may faint.

Moving on instinct, Shouta grabs a chair to drag behind the man so he can sit down.

Tsukauchi sits without protest, and places his head in his hands. He's quiet for a long, long time. Long enough that Shouta actually starts to worry. He supposes it's a good thing the detective didn't immediately jump on the fact that Shouta shouldn't know all the stuff he'd just revealed. Shock was a funny thing.

Shouta just waits for Tsukauchi to regain his bearings.

"And... how exactly did he lose his hands...?" he eventually croaks in a low voice, sounding almost hesitant, like he really didn't want to ask.

"Not important, what is important is that hopefully he can no longer use his quirk..." Shouta waves his hand dismissively, before pausing to look down at Shigaraki with a small frown. "...Maybe get some anti-quirk cuffs on him though—just in case."

Tsukauchi finally picks his head back up to stare incredulously at Shouta, gesturing at the unconscious man with one hand without looking. "On... on where? He has no hands, Eraser!"

...Huh, that did make cuffing him kind of hard, didn't it?

"He could still be dangerous," Shouta shakes his head, lightly kicking Shigaraki to make sure he was still out and wasn't listening in on their conversation. He grunts, but otherwise doesn't react. "...And I'd kind of like the rest of my capture weapon back, so if you wouldn't mind?"

Luckily, Tsukauchi seems to have recovered enough to get up and grab some proper police restraints. There's a sort of distant look in his eyes as the two of them work together to rebind Shigaraki.

"Eraser, these injuries..." he murmurs once they're done, staring down at the blood staining his own hands.

Shouta resists sighing at Tsukauchi and his bleeding heart. "...He should get medical attention soon. But, Tsukauchi..." he trails off for a moment, considering his next words. He doesn't want the detective to die. Not again. "Please believe me when I say this man is dangerous. He won't hesitate to kill anyone that gets in his way, even if they were only trying to help him."

Tsukauchi's expression was conflicted, an odd mix of of a grimace and something more solemn. After another moment, he nods.

Guess that was his cue to leave.

"Stay safe, detective... Good luck," Shouta offers a short bow, adjusting his capture weapon as he ducks out of the office.

He's only just stepping through the front doors of the station when he hears Tsukauchi call out a 'hey, wait a second-!' after him. It's almost amusing, that just now was the moment the man realized something wasn't quite right. But it was too late.

Shouta slips out the door and sprints away before anyone is able to catch up to him. He keeps going until he's a few streets away, then slows down to a more casual pace once he's sure no one is chasing him.

Now that that's taken care of, all that was left to do was get back to the hideout and figure out their next move. They should probably find a new one soon, since their current hideout had a large puddle of blood and two burned hands in it. He's been doing a lot of walking today too, so a chance to sit down would be appreciated.

He can't help but think of his own Tsukauchi Naomasa though, now that he'd just spoken with the man. Or rather, he can't help but think about what happened to him—would have happened to him, had nothing changed.

As useful as a quirk like 'Lie Detector' was, especially considering Naomasa's line of work, no one ever seemed to think about how a quirk like that might be used against someone.

Was it possible to torture someone just by telling them the truth?

Shouta wasn't there when the detective had been taken hostage along with the rest of his station, wasn't there when they were murdered—executed—one-by-one for the simple crime of working at that particular police station. Not even the receptionist had been spared.

'I'm going to fucking kill you, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me,' were the last words spoken to Naomasa. The last words he ever heard.

And those words were nothing but the truth.

The villain had been right—no one could stop them, and they killed Naomasa.

But now the man was alive again, all of them were, with no memories or even so much as an idea as to what sort of fate awaited them.

A fate that hopefully wouldn't happen a second time.

Shouta is broken out of his thoughts when a childish voice calls out behind him, followed by rapidly approaching footsteps.

"Mister 'raser!"

He freezes midstep, eyes wide.

...What?