Trigger Warnings:

- rape

- physical abuse: slapping

- euphemisms

- crude language

- graphic murder depiction

One month ago, I swore to kill the man who stole the last of my treasures from me.

Tonight, I act upon that vow.

I stand in the center of the bedroom, dressed as the Lady of Hell herself, waiting for the portal to open.

At midnight sharp, the purple-black vortex opens and I step in.

The setting is the same as always: Kurogiri stands behind the bar counter, Shigaraki reclines in a bar stool, All for One attends via a monitor.

"I heard the school was off yesterday. Did you learn anything today?" Shigaraki asks with undisguised interest. He looks healthier now.

I sit on a barstool and respond to the question. "Yes. It's serious. This morning, just before classes were in session, the U.A. faculty had a meeting discussing the events at the U.S.J. There was a policeman present as well." It was not easy eavesdropping on the conversation from hundreds of meters away in a classroom while pretending to read a book. "The policeman said he conducted a thorough investigation of you and Kurogiri. He knows that your quirk is disintegration and Kurogiri's is warp-gate based on the attack, but he couldn't find any registration records of either." Shigaraki grins at the last part. "He postulates that your names are aliases or that neither of you was accounted for in the population census." His grin widens.

"Keep going," he says excitedly.

"All Might called you a man-child."

His grin drops immediately. "What?"

"All Might said that you were a man-child."

"How did he reach that conclusion?" He's angry.

"He admitted that you planned a daring and meticulous plan. But he condemned your logic and stated how you went on and on about the noumu's abilities, but never your own. He said, 'When things aren't going his way, it's like he gets downright sick in the head!' His words, not mine. All Might elaborated on that by describing how you had an overly simplistic view and a 'toddler's sense of feeling like he can do whatever he wants.'" Shigaraki frowns and scratches his neck. He's understandably vexed, but he beckons me to continue. "The school principal thought differently. He interpreted the man-child comment as though you were someone who had the potential to develop like U.A.'s students. If you were mentored and had someone nurtured you with love, then you wouldn't have turned out like this. Essentially, the principal pitied you ..." I trail off at the end. I'm all too familiar with how it feels to be pitied.

Shigaraki doesn't speak for a while. He's as still as a statue, and obviously lost in emotions I'm well acquainted with. "What else did you learn?" he asks.

"U.A.'s Sports Festival is coming up at the end of next month. I think that I should take part in it."

His mood changes. "Why?"

I scoff. "I think the answer to that should be obvious. Didn't my motherly scolding teach you anything? The festival will showcase the quirks of U.A. students. Imagine the cornucopia of intel that will be there. The festival will be recorded, but the media will only show the most dramatic, most tense moments. There's only so much that you can learn from that. But if I take part, I can observe the students' quirks. Their strengths, their weaknesses, their modus operandi. I can report all of that to you. The League of Villains can use that when it plans its next attack." I had thought I would need to convince All for One, but I suppose I miscalculated.

But Kurogiri agrees with me. "She has good points, Shigaraki. This isn't an opportunity we should waste. What do you think, Sensei?"

All for One chuckles. "Right now, the Pro-Heroes and police have information on the two of you. If Selene can gather the same information of her fellow classmates, then we may be able to even it out. When you can't beat the odds, change the game."

Shigaraki huffs and concedes. "Fine. But do it subtly. Contestants become showoffs when the camera is pointed at them."

I smirk. "I'll be as subtle as the brush of a petal against the skin."

His expression of disappointment is comical. I burst into laughter. But it ends quickly when All for One speaks. "While you speak in favor of the League of Villains, there's something you're hiding, Selene. Intelligence for us is not your only motive, is it?"

I laugh again but humorlessly. "Astute as always, All for One. Yes, there's another reason. The Hanadas. Partaking in the festival means that the Pro-Heroes attention will be on me. By extension, on Hanada-sama. As much as this is a mission of espionage for you, it's a scheme of alliances for them." To my curiosity, as soon as I mention Hanada-sama, Shigaraki's expression sours and Kurogiri seems sullen.

"Hmm. I understand. Is there anything else?"

I consider if I should reveal my weakness. They might take back their permission if I tell them. But they might give me access to what I need if I do. It's risky, but I suppose I'll just have to take it. "Yes. I've never seen a U.A. Sports Festival."

"WHAT?" Shigaraki shouts.

"I'm sorry?" Kurogiri blurts.

All for One is shocked into silence.

"I meant it. I have yet to see a single U.A. Sports Festival. If possible, could you let me watch some footage of festivals past? And possibly explain to me the details? For reference purposes."

The four of us occupy the room in awkward silence for what seems like a long time. I break the tension. At least, try to. "Should I take that as a no?"

If looks could decay, then Shigaraki's glare would have turned me into dust. But before he can say something, Kurogiri cuts him off. "No, no, of course not. I can show you the videos of the festival whenever you would like, Selene." Shigaraki briefly diverts his glare at Kurogiri before returning it back to me.

I'm grateful for Kurogiri's intervention, as I thank him again and again. But for what I am about to say next, Kurogiri's intervention won't be enough. "There's one last thing. As per our deal, I have to kill tonight."

"Who do you have in mind?" Kurogiri asks politely.

"The Pro-Hero whom I shared the bed with."

Both Kurogiri and Shigaraki stiffen visibly, but not out of reluctance or discomfort. I understand why Kurogiri has. He's made his opinions very clear on the matter of my treatment. But I don't understand why Shigaraki has. His glare has shifted to the floor, but his target of the glare is someone else. The Pro-Hero? I've noticed how he stares at the Pro-Hero during the few times he came to the mansion. I remember he asked me when I was going to kill that "son of a bitch," as he put it. He said he hated him. Because we strictly had a deal, I didn't expect him to care for what happened to me. Just as I told myself that I shouldn't care what happened to him. Ha! But I didn't know why he did and said that back then, I don't know why now.

But that's not my concern. Just because I was worried about him one moment does not mean that I should do it again. And that definitely does not mean I should expect him to give me an ounce of regard for my wellbeing. "He's not in the mansion anymore. Last night was the last." I give Kurogiri the address of the Pro-Hero's home.

Shigaraki gets up. "Let's go," he says as the warp gate opens.

I follow suit.

We step inside a surprisingly modest bedroom. A dark wood four-poster bed, a light wood cabinet nightstand, terra brown curtains, and cream color linens. The bathroom and study are not attached. I look out the window and realize that we're standing in an apartment on the sixth floor of a residence building. I beckon Shigaraki and show him. Understanding dawns on his face as we agree that we'll have to be more cautious than ever.

Perhaps as quiet as the dead, we creep out of the bedroom into the living area. I see the entrance to the bathroom, a door to another bedroom, a study, and a kitchen. The rest of the apartment is just as modest as the bedroom. Shades of creams, neutrals, and pastels coat each surface. Comparing this and the Pro-Hero's treatment of me makes my blood boil. People say that homes describe personality. But this home is clearly the exception. I glance out of the corner of my eye, and Shigaraki seems just as equally perturbed by the sight.

I cock my head toward the study. He takes the lead. The Pro-Hero has only one file cabinet, which Shigaraki immediately peruses through. Meanwhile, his laptop rests on his desk. I use my absorbed electricity quirk and scan the files for incriminating evidence. Shigaraki and I work like this in silence for half an hour. Then he speaks. "Don't kill this bastard the same way you killed those in England."

The statement catches me off guard. I freeze but immediately go back to searching. "What do you mean?"

"Don't crush his bones with your cane. Already, you're leaving your signature on your victims in England. If you do the same here, the police might connect his death to the deaths there."

"Understood."

We return to mutual silence. Shigaraki doesn't find damaging to the Pro-Hero's reputation in the file cabinet, and I still have hundreds of files to view. Just then, we hear the door lock to the apartment jingle. We glance at each other once and silently take our positions: Shigaraki shuts the door of the study and hurries to cover up evidence of our existence in the apartment; I tread back toward the bedroom and hide in the shadows.

I keep track of every movement. The apartment door opens and shuts. Footsteps come in. Those footsteps turn and go into the bathroom. The bathroom door shuts. The toilet flushes, the tap runs, the tap closes. The bathroom door opens. The footsteps move toward the couches in the center of the living room. A TV turns on.

I pray that Shigaraki has finished putting everything back where it was. As an afterthought, I pray he found something damning.

I don't know how long the Pro-Hero watches TV. But I can't lose my patience. The footsteps start again. Up from the couch, toward the kitchen, onto the kitchen tile floor. The refrigerator opens and closes, cabinets open and shut, plates and bowls clatter, metal utensils clink. A microwave turns on, and the monotonous sound drones. And on. And on.

"Boo, little Flower."

I flinch and shudder. The voice came from behind me.

I made a mistake! A grave mistake. I dropped my guard. The sounds of the microwave hid his footsteps. I didn't notice he entered the bedroom.

"Did you miss me that much, Flower, that you broke into my apartment and waited in my bedroom? If so, I liked the surprise," he teases. He grabs my face hard and turns me around. I open my mouth to shout for help, but I can't. I'm paralyzed. I'm paralyzed from head to toe! I stare up at the Pro-Hero in terror. He's relishing my fear. "Flower, did I ever tell you what my quirk was? It's paralysis. I just need to touch a person's skin to immobilize whatever part of the body I wish."

My fear intensifies. Even though I can feel a thin slash on my abdomen develop as I absorb the paralysis quirk, I'm still rendered defenseless. He throws me over his shoulder, only to drop me onto his bed. "Did you know how I found out you were here? You see, the handle to the door of my study is always at a downward angle. When I came in, the handle was horizontal." He takes off my mask and boots. Earlier, I had reminded myself that Shigaraki was not obligated to help during events like this. But I'm desperate now. I mentally plead for help, even though it's futile. Shigaraki! Help me! "Now, I knew that someone had broken in. I just didn't know who." He unbuckles my belt. "The only valuable things in my possession were the wide-screen TV and brand-name sneakers. But both of those things were untouched." He plucks the black roses from my hair and undoes my devil horns. Tears start flowing from my eyes. By now, Shigaraki must know I'm in trouble. Where is he?! "Hey, hey, hey. Don't cry, Flower. Just listen. The TV and sneakers weren't stolen. So I wondered: Why would someone break into my apartment? That's when I noticed the handle detail. It hit me. Information. An enemy of mine wanted information to get me arrested." He takes off my trench coat and begins unbuttoning my shirt and pants. My tears quicken. "So who could hate me so much to want to see me destroyed? I couldn't think of anyone. So, I assumed that whoever the intruder was, it hadn't left, and I would find out myself." He pulls my shirt and pants off. The only barriers left are my undergarments and bandages. "I put myself into the shoes of the intruder and thought: Where would I hide? Oh! The bedroom! I turned on the microwave and came in, only to find the intruder was none other than you!" He laughs maniacally. I lay bare in front of him. I'm streaming rivers of tears at this point. He pulls down his pants and boxers and climbs on top of me.

He bends down by my ear. "Remember the first night we made love? You ravished my dick so beautifully. Let's do it again. For old times' sake." He releases his paralysis effect on my facial muscles just as he thrusts his penis into my mouth. However, I suppress my revulsion and bite hard into the flesh. He howls and extricates himself from my mouth. His face controls into one of rage, and he slaps me hard. "YOU BITCH!"

Just then, the bedroom door opens, and Shigaraki storms in. Never before have I been happier to see his face. The Pro-Hero is stunned. Shigaraki spares one glance at my situation before taking action. Just before the Pro-Hero can recover, Shigaraki grabs his face and decays his flesh into dust. As the Pro-Hero crumbles, Shigaraki whispers, "There's a special place in hell for rapist assholes like you. There, crotches burn in 20 million degrees Celsius hot flames for eternity. Have a fun stay there."

The moment the Pro-Hero is no more, the paralysis effect vanishes, and I bolt up. I look at the pile of dust on the floor. I don't know what to say. Thank you is not enough. Calling him my savior is too much. So what comes out of my mouth is, "Why?"

He pointedly looks away from me. "Don't. Don't thank me or give me any of that shit. Had I come sooner, none of this would have happened. You would have been the one to kill him."

I get up from the bed. "The fact that you came at all means a lot to me. You don't want me to thank you. In that case, will you accept a debt? You saved me just now. I owe you a life debt because of that."

He laughs soundlessly. "I should have expected this. With you, it's always business, deals, and debts. Sure. I'll take that debt. Whatever makes you feel good. It's better than a 'Thank you.'" He pulls the duvet off the bed and holds it out toward me, not once meeting my eyes. As I take it, he grumbles, "Your stomach's bleeding. Wear your underclothes and meet me in the bathroom. I'll treat it." I watch his figure leave the bedroom.

Two minutes later, I step out, half-dressed, carrying the bandages in my arms. I walk into the bathroom, where Shigaraki has arranged cotton balls, antiseptic, new bandages, and a thread and needle. He takes the bandages from my arms and rots them to dust over the trash bag in the trash can. He beckons me to sit on the edge of the tub while he gets down on his knees to inspect the wound. "The thread and needle won't be necessary," he says clinically. I catch him staring at the letters starting from my sternum to my navel, and then at the letters on my arms. His jaw tightens. But then I look at a point past his shoulder as he rubs the antiseptic on the wound and wraps bandages around my waist.

Once he's done, I get up and wince. He stares at me for a few moments, checking that there are no other issues. Then, he looks at the trash can. "I searched through the remaining files on the laptop. Nothing remotely shady. But we're going to have to get rid of the remains. Get dressed and look for a vacuum and clean the bedroom. Dump the contents in this trash can. Then we'll take it somewhere far and dispose of it. I'll finish cleaning up the study till then."

I find a vacuum in the spare bedroom and clean the entire floor in the bedroom where the Pro-Hero died. I suck up the fallen rose petals, too. Once I'm done, I throw the dust into the trash bag and knot it tightly. Shigaraki's waiting for me in the bedroom and takes the trash can for me. Kurogiri's portal opens and we step through. He quickly explains the situation to Kurogiri, who opens another portal to a wasteland. I don't know where this wasteland is, and I don't ask. Shigaraki tosses the bag meters away and walks back into the portal. I follow.

Back inside the bar, I ask Kurogiri to open the portal to the mansion. But to my surprise, both Kurogiri and Shigaraki refuse.

"You can stay here tonight," Shigaraki mutters.

"You can use the same room as last time," Kurogiri soothes.

Shigaraki doesn't look remotely fazed by Kurogiri's statement. Did he find out? My unspoken question must be visible on my face because Shigaraki answers it for me. "Yeah. I know you spent the night here. Kurogiri told me after you left. You think you're hilarious, don't you? Getting on my nerves after I wake up and then doing it again by staying in a twenty-meter vicinity. You're a 'lucky soul.'"

I'm both amused and annoyed. Amused by Shigaraki's complaints. Annoyed by the fact that Kurogiri told him. But considering I'm unharmed for the most part, I can ignore that. I smirk. "Thank you for the compliment. Now, could you show me to my room? I don't think I can find it by myself."

Shigaraki rolls his eyes, which only makes me laugh. "Think you're witty too, huh? Follow me."

He escorts me up the stairs to the room, but just as he turns to leave, I call out, "Wait! You didn't answer my question earlier. Why? Why did you help me?"

He huffs out a breath before speaking. "Shouldn't you be able to answer that question yourself? We made a deal, I have to do my share, you have to do yours, etcetera, etcetera. If I hadn't saved you from that bastard, you would have been so lost in trauma that I would have had to drag you here like you were a corpse. Who knows how long it would have taken you before you were sober and able to resume your spy duties. Besides, I told you from day one that I hate Pro-Heroes. That bastard even more because he committed disgusting crimes behind the facade of a noble hero. He was a damn hypocrite. In fact, the worst of them."

I'm silent for a long time. His reasoning makes sense. Everything he's said to me since I joined the League of Villains should have made me reach that conclusion. I can attribute his hateful glares and crude insults to that as well. But what about when you treated your wound just now? He cleaned it, disinfected it, bandaged it. He didn't have to do any of that, did he? And what about his reaction when he looked at the carved slurs on my body? Or am I just overthinking it? Maybe it has to do with my ability to spy for them.

I need time to unravel my emotions, so I nod my head in understanding and bid him good night.

The room and bed are cozy.

But I don't sleep at all that night.

Note: I have copied some dialogue from one of the English-translated versions of the manga. The link to the chapter is here: /manga/boku-no-hero-academia-chapter-22/