Trigger Warning:
- blood
- murder
So they don't know.
Todoroki-kun, Midoriya-san, and Iida-san don't know that I was the one who killed that Pro-Hero.
I had three reasons for visiting them in the hospital:
How bad were their injuries, especially Todoroki-kun's?
I knew that the police and Pro-Heroes at the scene would come to the hospital, and some private words would be exchanged. What cover-up story would they concoct?
Did they catch me committing the murder?
And I got my answers to all three questions by eavesdropping just outside the room door and entering said room myself. It was only a few days ago, during this internship week, that Shigaraki and Kurogiri told me that they had been trying to convince Hero Killer Stain to join the League of Villains organization, but failed to do so time and time again. When they had revealed that, both of them had stab wounds all over their bodies. Shigaraki cursed him to go to hell, but All-for-One insisted that he would be a valuable asset. So, as a last resort, the three of them sent me to talk to Stain-san.
It was a very scintillating conversation. From the recent news about Pro-Hero Ingenium's encounter, it was not difficult to deduce that Stain-san was still very likely lurking in the dark alleys of Hosu City. After much argument and compromise from our side, Stain agreed to one last meeting with the League of Villains. I stepped out of Kurogiri's warp gate onto the rooftop of an abandoned apartment building. I expected Stain to display a sign of surprise at the sight of a single girl with a cane, wearing a dove white chiffon nightgown and robe - mind you, this task was rather impromptu, and I was awoken from my beauty sleep for it - and holding a carry-out carton of dango and two thermoses of warm milk tea.
Unfortunately, he was not surprised. His face revealed no twitch nor any slight widening of the eyes. Instead, he seemed dismayed seeing me because his mouth greeted me with acerbic sarcasm. "I heard rumors that his apartment building was haunted. Are you the local ghost?"
"Why yes, I am. I stole the souls of all the residents who used to live here, and yet I'm still not satiated. May I have the pleasure of consuming your soul, Hero Killer Stain?" I responded, unable to hold back my tongue. He said nothing, so I reverted to my business tone. Lifting the carton and thermoses, I said, "I come here in peace and bearing gifts. I am unarmed, cold, and quite hungry. You may join me if you would like."
"Skip the small talk," he spoke. "I've already given my answer: I am not going to join your pathetic organization. Your ideals are worthless and don't align with mine. The only reason I agreed to this plea is that I want you to give them this message: If you guys bother me one more time, I'll slaughter every one of you."
I sat down on the concrete parapet of the rooftop and open the carton and thermos bottles. "I would gladly relay your message. However, that warp gate transported me from one end of the city to the other, and it won't open again for another few hours. And given my excuses for legs, my outfit, and this frigid weather, it will take me an eternity to get back. Imagine how much unnecessary attention I will receive." I lifted my cane for emphasis. "So you can humor me by sharing this meal with me, or continue brooding over there and let me eat in peace. The choice is yours."
He stubbornly stood where he was for a long time and stared at me routinely taking a bite of dango and a sip of milk tea. After many minutes, he joined me by the parapet, albeit keeping his distance and never taking his eyes off of me. I pushed the other bottle and carton toward him. Hesitantly, he reached for the bottle and opened it. "I get the feeling you like playing with danger. This isn't the first time you've got someone who doesn't like you to do what you want."
"You're correct. I think it's my charm. Here, take a dango. I promise you, they're not poisoned."
"You're conceited, too. Just how old are you and what are you doing with that lot?"
"Sweet fifteen. I had a memorable quinceañera. As for what I'm doing with 'that lot,' I am their partner. Their spy." I looked at the streets below. We were not in a dark alley as I had thought we would. Instead, yellow streetlights glared and people bustled about even this late at night. One person exited a pizzeria, another walked into a grocery store, and another honked their car. This vacant apartment building was juxtaposed to the vibrant life happening all around it, just like how I was juxtaposed with the Hero Killer. While I looked like a 'ghost,' with my white clothes and hair, he was dressed in dark colors, reminiscent of a difficult life. Red the color of coagulated blood, black the color of coal, cream the color of dust. He sported a haze-colored mask on his face, a dark combat suit with metal armor across his torso, faded bandages around his arms, steel-studded black boots. Most interesting was the katana strapped across his back. I want one too …
He noticed my attention. "Why are you not afraid? I've killed 17 Pro-Heroes, injured 24 more to the point of no recovery. This complex is fifteen stories high. I could push you off right now, and your death would make my point to your alliance crystal clear. Just because you're young doesn't mean that I'll have any qualms about killing you."
Having finished my tea, I gently patted my mouth with a napkin. "What makes you think I am not afraid? Fear is a phoenix. You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return. Your modus operandi is not to push someone off the ledge, it's with blades and blood. In fact, I am half-expecting you to plunge that katana through my heart any moment now. And yet, I'm still here, sitting on the verge of life and death, and having dinner with you. That's an indication that you are willing to give me a chance to explain."
"I know what you're going to say, and my answer is the same." It did not escape my notice that he does not address what I said about my fear. Perhaps his silence is agreement.
"Actually, I'm more curious about you. I want to know your motives for rejecting our offer and doing what you do? Why did you become the Hero Killer, Stain-san? May I call you Stain-san?"
"Stain is fine. Like I said, my ideals don't align with yours. You scum just want to eliminate all heroes and, I want to eliminate false heroes. Destroying society and its twisted beliefs is the only point we have in common, but it's the only point. You guys want to take down All Might, while I believe that he is the only true hero out there. The concept of heroes has been warped and distorted into something disgusting. These so-called heroes don't help the citizens out of their own volition. There's money, fame, recognition, power, and politics in it for them. Heroism is not a noble deed anymore, it is business. Pure, cold business. I have to purge these disgraces of heroes, and I will keep doing so until the public realizes that they are not worthy of the pedestal that the public has given them. They are stains to our world! Didn't your partners tell you this before coming here?"
I sighed, "No. Both of them were severely injured, and Shigaraki could not stop insulting you, so I was given very limited information."
"Now that you know, you should head back."
No. We're not finished with this discussion yet. "I agree with you on all the points you made." He was surprised again and asked me to elaborate. "I will, but you still haven't answered my original question: why did you become the Hero Killer? I want to know your life story."
"You're the first person to have asked me that. Why do you care so much?"
"Because I am a murderer, too, and I have killed Pro-Heroes."
Perhaps it was because I revealed my identity that Stain narrated his past. I learned that his name was Akaguro Chizome. When All Might made his debut, he became his inspiration. He studied in a private hero-course high school, but when he saw how heroes were romanticized, he was repulsed. He explained in detail about the politics and selfishness behind heroism, and that abhorred him so much he dropped out of the school during the summer of his freshman year. Stain became a spokesperson, advocating for a change in hero structure and function, but when his words had no effect, he took a more physical approach. Training in martial arts and weaponry, he became a vigilante. Not a villain, a vigilante. "Heroes must not be rewarded or compensated for helping others. Hero is a title of honor that should only be granted to those who make the ultimate acts of self-sacrifice for someone else."
I listened quietly the entire time. Then he prompted me to tell my story, so I did. My abuse, my rapes, my belief that a hero would save me one day, how that was shattered when a hero bed me, Hanada-sama's business venture, my enrollment at U.A., my first meeting with the League of Villains, our struck deal, weekly murders, and the Pro-Heroes I had killed. "Politics and business. Some days, I think they are one and the same. I detest the way heroes are revered like a god when no one knows that they do in their homes and beds. Heroism nowadays is about money and fame. That is why there is an entire franchise that my father thinks is lucrative." I realize that this is why All-for-One sent me to talk to him. From one murderer to another with a legitimate vendetta against Pro-Heroes, with similar thoughts, with a justified disappointment, All-for-One believed that Stain would be more amiable to me, and therefore more likely to join the League of Villains. I did say that the League of Villains should use me, and that's exactly what they did. I wonder how many strings All-for-One had to pull in order to make me the last resort.
Unfortunately, Stain realized this, too. "I have to hand it to you, your organization is damn clever. You were their ace. If all else failed, then they would send you over to persuade me because of how alike our hatred toward this wretched world is," he seethed. To my terror, he grabbed me by the neck and lifted me above the ground fifteen floors below. My slippers dangled from my toes. If he let go, I would plummet to my death. At least, that is what he thought. But if he did not, he would suffocate me to death. It's better for now that he thinks that he is in control. I played along and grabbed onto his arm in desperation. "You manipulated me with your tragic backstory. The dress, the food, the respect … it was all part of your scheme. If I hadn't been on my guard, I might have just accepted. But now I have another reason not to join your stupid alliance. How about I kill you right here, right now? Make you a ghost for real. Perhaps your partners won't pester me anymore. If they do, then I can kill them, too."
With his other hand, he unsheathed that katana and brought the point to my forehead. I didn't dare breathe, let alone move. We simply stared at each other unflinchingly, silently gauging each other, plotting our next move. But then he tossed me back onto the rooftop. My head hit the concrete hard, and my joints ached like hell. "You're not worth it. You kill out of selfishness, but you also reveal their wrongdoings to the public. You have no qualms about murdering innocents, but you have conviction and creed in doing so. I don't know whether that makes you an anti-hero or an anti-villain, but you are loyal to those who help you." He mutters, "Besides, I don't hurt those who share their meal with me."
"But I know what you are," I coughed. Regaining my balance, I continued. "You're the Hero Killer. An anti-hero. A necessary evil. Shigaraki may hate you, but I admire you. I'll carry your answer to the League, and I promise you that we won't interfere with your work again." Saving what was left of my dignity, I bowed in farewell. But he called after me, "Wait! It's been a long time since I've eaten with someone. I'll escort you to your base myself. After all, with the way you're dressed, you look like the prime victim for a kidnapper."
So I followed him out of the apartment building and onto the streets. We took to the secluded alleys. Everything was fine until that Pro-Hero spotted us and decided to take us on. Mr. Native, I believed, was his name. Stain ushered me into an alcove while he fought with Mr. Native. I felt a laceration open on my shin as I watched Stain use his quirk on the Pro-Hero: paralysis by blood. That explains the blades he carries on his persona. He was just about to end the Pro-Hero's life when Iida-san arrived and challenged him. Then Midoriya-san and Todoroki-kun came. I watched the battle unfold. Obviously, Stain could not combat three future Pro-Heroes and kill the one lying defenseless. So I took it upon myself to do it. Mr. Native was a liability now that he had seen my face, and I owed it to Stain for sparing my life. When the four of them were preoccupied, I unsheathed the knife I had strapped to my thigh and slipped out of my hiding spot. One clean slice and run. That was all I could afford. Mr. Native's last sight was my face and my hand holding a dagger. His expression of horror was burned into my memory. I slit his throat down to the major arteries and veins, and escaped. But I heard footsteps chasing me. Familiar footsteps. Just as I rounded the corner, I used Hagakure-san's quirk and made myself utterly invisible. Her quirk was limited to just her corporeal body, but I had enhanced it to mask my clothes and accessories as well. One question rang like a bell in my mind: Did he see me?
When Todoroki-kun turned back, I followed him, never dropping my invisibility. I watched the three boys restrain Stain, other Pro-Heroes arrive, Stain suddenly regaining consciousness and escaping his bonds with a hidden knife, his bone-chilling speech, and his transport to the hospital. Finally, my gaze dropped to my nightgown, splattered with blood. This is going to take forever to wash. And it was my favorite nightgown, too.
And I relay all of this when I see All-for-One, Kurogiri, and Shigaraki after the visit to the hospital.
They tell me about the noumu they unleashed at the same time all this was happening.
I doubt the timing is a coincidence.
The news displays footage of the noumu attacks, confirming what they told me. But, like Shigaraki complains, it comes second to the news about the Hero Killer incident. He detests it. All-for-One and Kurogiri try to console him, while I continue watching, calculating.
"Don't be so morose, Shigaraki. We benefit from this," I tell him after coming to a realization.
"What do you mean? The noumu were supposed to be all the rage on TV! That publicity would make Japan fear us, not mock us for our failure at the U.S.J.!"
"We will be feared. Think about it. We approached the Hero Killer first. His perceptions, his ideology has made headlines. He is definitely not the first to have a grudge against the foundational pillar of heroism. Via the media, he has given voice to the thousands of others in Japan who resent Pro-Heroes. We live in a world where we repress our seditious thoughts and feelings to keep up appearances. When someone like the Hero Killer breaks those chains of restraint, revolution begins. The Hero Killer's sudden rise in fame … the planned noumu attack … the people will think that there is a correlation between the two. That the Hero Killer and League of Villains were working in tandem.
"People who sympathize with the Hero Killer will flock to our doors, seeking membership. Individual rebels will organize into groups, groups will meet with criminal brokers, criminal brokers will experience a rise in customers and direct them to us: the League of Villains. Regardless of the Hero Killer accepting or rejecting our proposal, we would have benefitted immensely. Am I correct, All-for-One?" I turn toward the monitor where he communicates from.
"Once again, your excellent deduction skills are beyond par," he chuckles.
I smirk in return. "All-for-One, you ought to have been a politician. How to manipulate the public is an art one should learn from you. You sent me to the Hero Killer just in case he would change his mind. Otherwise, we had already gotten what we wanted: new recruits. Any day now, any month now, villains will come to our doorstep."
I bid them good night and climb up the stairs.
But at the last minute, I give a parting comment.
"Next time you wake me up for a late-night rendezvous, give me time to change first."
Citations:
"Fear is a phoenix. You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return." - Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo