The fight with the Kaiju known as "Chubs", the first of the later termed "tier one" series, had been a bloody affair. A rotund body packed with muscle had given the initial responder, a debut hero Kamui Woods, enough trouble for backup needing to be called. A city block had chewed apart and a gas fire had killed twenty civilians in the battle. It took over two hours before Endeavor had arrived for the creature to be put down. Haunting cries filled the air as the beast was burnt to ash, all onlookers suppressing a shudder and a lingering feeling of pity for the being.

Just what was a kaiju?

A TV hisses in the background of the shadowed bar located north of Nagoya, showing the non-explicit footage of the affair. Regulars slumped against chairs and gazed toward their foggy glasses, condensation clinging to the outer layer due to the building heat being stuck on a setting too high. The door outside opens with a creak and a man with a loose cigarette hanging from his teeth wades his way through the patrons to a far table where a figure lies slumped forward, head resting on the crevice of his arms. A glass of rum sitting beside him.

"Rough day?"

The slumped figure lifts one shadowed eye to shoot him a glare and then slightly shifts his head to a more comfortable resting position. The ragged trench he wears smells of ash and slightly burnt flesh. Frayed edges and scorch marks tell a tale of high usage and weary travel. The dull pressure that the figure feels against the back of their head tells him he's had one too many glasses of rum.

Or was it telling him that he hasn't had enough?

"What do you want, Giran?"

The broker flashes his dull yellow teeth at the mismatched skin colors and slightly rusting staples that decorate the patron's face.

"Can't I be allowed to check on one of my favorite contacts? Or do you prefer to pout alone, Dabi?"

Dabi drags a hand across the table and wraps his fingers around the glass of rum.

"What do you want?" he asks again, devoid of any amusement or sarcasm that lines most of his words.

Giran looks at the finger-wrapped glass and the multiple dark water rings that cover the table where they're seated. Using simple guesswork, the broker estimates it's the man's fifth glass.

"You weren't answering your phone."

The young man lets out a grumble in reply as he stretches his lips to the glass that sits beside him and greedily slurps down the remaining drink.

"This isn't how it was supposed to go."

Giran's eyebrows rise slightly as he looks back to Dabi. When seeing cerulean eyes locked onto the tiny television behind him, he cranes his neck to get a better look at what's captured the criminal's attention.

'When will the next true number one hero appear?'

That was the text that hung from the bottom of the screen while two older men on the screen seemed to be having an animated argument regarding the topic.

"I was supposed to be the one," Dabi says with a slight slur, "I was supposed to be the one that ended that f-fucker."

Giran surveys the boy. Okuto believed that he was the only person in the world that knew Dabi's actual identity. He had been the one to find him two days after the Sekoto Hill incident, a boy that was practically more dead than alive and rushed him to the nearest doctor that owed him a favor.

Why did he do that?

He asked himself that question a lot. He had seen plenty of people on the precipice of death and had never batted an eye before. That was the life of a broker. Moving people around like pieces on a board until they break, and then finding more to play with. Surface-level relationships were pivotal in the business. A deeper level connection was not.

Caring for these pieces would only result in heartbreak and the guilt you get when you know that you played a part in their undoing. Their demise. It would leave a sick taste on his tongue when a contact of his was killed on a job that he gave them. Was it his fault? Was he supposed to grieve for them? Who was he supposed to send flowers to? Most of these people had nothing, being sick and fragile from a world that cut them out like defective pieces on an assembly line. Pieces that wouldn't contribute to the desired future for those that watched from the executive offices above.

Dabi was another one of these pieces. Scarred and angry at the world that refused him for what he was, what he wanted to be. A boy that due to something that he had no control over, failed in the eyes of his father.

The first son of Endeavor, with a fire that burned too hot. A fire that made the flame hero himself, the man that wanted more than anything for his son to be the greatest hero, demanded him to stop and do something else. A fire that forced Todoroki Enji to plead with his son to stop being a hero.

What an insidious twist of fate. A fate twisted enough to break the already strained psyche of a boy with the same drive as his father. A fate that drove a boy that could have lived with family and friends to live with him in the rundown apartment in Yokohama.

For the first few years, the boy wouldn't say much other than cursing the name of his father or hissing plans of an elaborate revenge scheme, fit with dramatic video confessions and a 'killer' finale. These plans seemed to pick up even more steam once All Might was killed by All for One, a man Giran had only met twice but still saw in his dreams every so often.

"Will you play the role you were meant to, Okuto Kagero?"

A heavy hand rests on his shoulder.

"Just know that regardless of what happens to me, I'll be watching."

The man died two days later. That memory was like a jagged puzzle piece that didn't fit with the rest of his unsatisfying and self-loathing-filled life.

Giran pulled another thin cigarette from the pack in his breath pocket and shakily lit a match. Smoke filled his lungs and mind, and he was able to take a long breath that he had been apparently holding in.

Dabi suddenly raised his arm and sloppily waved a hand at the bartender in hopes of another drink. Giran frowned at the action and the overall behavior of the former Todoroki. He would never say that he raised the boy, but he hoped that something he had done in the past isn't the reason for the boy to act like his now. Alcohol had always been a medication to the horrors of an untamed underworld, but pushing your limit, especially after you've burned bridges and know that if the wrong person saw you at the wrong time, you'd be dead, was a bad idea.

Giran grit his teeth at the metaphorical match he was about to throw on this alcohol-covered mess and slowly opened his mouth.

"Let it go, kid."

Dabi groggily raises his head toward the man and narrows his eyes.

"Let what go?"

Giran takes the cigarette out of his mouth and rests both hands on the grimy table, "It's okay to be mad. It's okay to be bitter. But letting your own old man's misery drag you down doesn't make any sense to me." He looked back to the tv which showed a tired-looking Endeavor answering questions about the Chubs Kaiju, "Isn't this what you wanted? Everyone hates him and he looks about as dead as I feel most days. Why can't this be good enough for you?"

Cold eyes lock onto him, "I can't accept something like this."

"It was childish to think everything would work out the way you planned. And it's even more childish to pout about it like some sort of bratty kid."

Dabi grits his teeth, "You wouldn't understand. This-" he pauses and looks away, "This is all I have now." The young man raises both hands and gestures to his face, "Look at me, Giran! Look what he did to me! Look at what I am now! This anger, this rage for him, what am I without it? Would I even be me? Would I still exist? What would be the point to live in the stupid and fucking awful world in the first place?" He looks back at the broker, face twisted into an ugly scowl, "I'd rather just die."

It had taken a full week before they had completely patched Touya's face when Okuta found him all those years ago. When the boy had found a mirror for the first time, he let off a laugh that made Giran's skin crawl. It was a laugh-filled with unmistakable rage and anguish. It was a laugh that probably would have brought tears to the boy's eyes. But the boy couldn't cry anymore.

He could only laugh.

Giran gave the former Todoroki a second and then slowly lifted the cigarette back up to his mouth, "Just because you lack purpose now doesn't mean you can't find it down the road."

Dabi looks down to his left hand, fiddling with a loose staple on his palm, "You say that as if you can see my future."

Okuta coughs to suppress the small eye twitch he gets from the statement, "I'm just saying that I've met people before who share some of the views you have."

"On my old man?"

"No," brings up a hand and runs it through his greasy hair, "I was talking about your views on the world in general."

Dabi snorts, "Everyone in our line of work shares that view."

"But so few can actually do something about it."

Dabi peers up at him, eyes betraying a curious glint before they quickly widen in realization, and he lets out a short 'tch'.

"You're talking about that kid again, aren't you? The one you keep trying to get me to go on jobs with?"

Kagero smirks, "And what if I am?"

"I'm not interested."

"How can you say that if you've never even met him?"

Dabi looks back down to the glass on the table, "All this talk of this kid being some kind of future king makes me sick. What makes him so great, huh? Why do you keep talking him up like you're his number one fangirl?"

It was a good question for someone that hadn't met Shigaraki Tomura. Why should people fear some nineteen-year-old kid? Giran considered the thought for a moment and decided to go with his honest answer.

"Being known as the kid All for One picked out to train and teach is a pretty good place to start, I suppose."

"So what, he knew some dead guy, why does that matter?"

Giran sighs, "I suppose if you never met the man, it's hard to understand what he was. What kind of power he had."

"I don't care about him. And I don't care about this Shigaraki kid. So just drop it and move on."

Okuta looks back down at the table. After drumming his fingers for a moment he opts to take a bit of a stronger approach. "You were right, you know? You're nothing without your anger; you have nothing and nobody. I try to help but you just push me away as well. What kind of life is that? Did you really think you could do this all on your own?"

Dabi growls at him, "Fuck off."

Giran continues to push, "You know why Shigaraki Tomura is so great? Why do people already see him as a future king? Because he has more than anger, more than the hatred that keeps him moving forward. He has people that he surrounds himself with that he cares about and they care for him. He has goals but knows he can't do them alone. That's what's so different about you and him." Kagero takes a breath, "So what are you going to do Dabi? Drink yourself to a sad, pathetic death or move forward? Maybe you'll get another chance at bringing down your dad in the future. Or maybe you'll get a chance at bringing down something far greater than one old man."

Dabi slowly pulls himself to a seated position, more intrigued than he would be willing to admit, "And what would that be?"

Giran grins with a cigarette sticking out between his teeth, "Maybe you'll bring down everything."

Dabi stares at the man for a while and then begins to chuckle. He doesn't remember the last time he laughed like this.

"Bring down everything? What kind of pipedream is that?"

"It's the kind of pipedream that you could never accomplish on your own." Giran paused and inhaled on his cigarette before continuing, "But with the right people? The right resources? Who knows what the future will hold, kid"

Dabi takes a moment to idly scratch at the back of his head while he thinks. "Fine, I'll meet this Shigaraki Tomura. He better not be a waste of time."

Giran slowly pulls himself to his feet and throws cash on the table, covering Dabi's tab, "We'll swing by his bar then sometime soon. I've got someone else who I think should meet him as well, so once I find that fucking gremlin, we can all head over together."

Dabi smirks, "Sounds like it will be quite the party."

~Revelations~

It was nearing the end of their second year in Aldera High School. January was almost over by now, yet the cold and rainy weather clung to Nagoya like an overbearing parent. The roof wasn't much of an option for Izuku for lunch anymore so he would spend most of his free periods walking the halls in search of empty classrooms, trying to avoid the loud and anxious noises of high school life.

That kind of life was not one that he lived. Spending most of his time reading up on anatomy for the potential use of his quirk and finding odd jobs to make money, the teen did not have much of a social life. He didn't have much of a desire for one though, so this suited him fine. He had his mom and that really was all he needed.

Or at least that is what he told himself.

He struggled at times around his mom. After seeing through the façade of hers a few weeks back when she spoke of her anger over the position they were in and her desperation for a new life, he struggled to be honest with her. Honest with his own difficulties and feelings for school. For his life. For the friends, he didn't have. For the father, he never knew.

He also didn't tell his mom about the itch.

A problem that he had been having since that fateful day when Katsuki blasted him across the roof. There would be times when the boy would wake up in the middle of the night with an incessant need to pick at the jagged scar that stretched across his skin. There would be times when he wished he could itch and itch and itch until the scar was no more, and this pesky feeling was gone. But he knew that it was not possible. That he could not scratch the itch. Especially when he finally recognized what this all really was.

It was dissatisfaction.

Ever since the day he got the scar, the day he learned about his quirk, the day he remembered his time with his father, Izuku had been unsatisfied. It had been four years. Where was the life his father promised, tearing worlds down and then building them back up?

He was running away from this world altogether.

Was he a coward? After years of training and learning, he was finally beginning to grasp the true scale of the quirk that he had. The things that he could achieve. It was a truly amazing power, but what was he doing with it?

He was hiding it from everyone and refusing to let it out. Refusing to let it break things apart. And let it Overhaul the world as he saw fit.

His hand twitches by his side, in agreement with his thoughts. Was he strong enough to change the world? Truly make it better for everyone and not just those at the top? Those blessed with abilities from convoluted and complicated bloodlines designed to manufacture quirk superiority? Could he take everything away from those people? Could he rip away this world that was so firmly in their grip?

Izuku doubted it. While he had a thorough understanding of his quirk, it wasn't like he had much practical experience with it. While he understood the potential, it was impossible to match the heights that were available.

Would he ever reach it?

He figured he probably wouldn't use Overhaul much when he and his mother moved away. The places that they were looking at valued 'quirk minimization', a philosophy that had been picked up decades ago around the idea, "The quirk doesn't make the individual, The quirk is merely just a part of the individual." Heroes weren't as common in places that valued minimization and overall, the world was much closer to what it had been before quirks existed. It was also a rare belief, with only ten or so countries in the world practicing it fully.

Was moving away the best option? For his mother he had no doubt; she was miserable. But for him? He wasn't sure how he felt. He knew he hated Japan. Hated how things were and how people were treated. His chest would burn if he thought about these issues for too long. A fire in his lungs that would whisper 'fight' in his ear.

He almost had a breakdown when he recognized who the voice belonged to for the first time. Whose voice it was that was telling him to not lie down and take this cruel world. To turn against it. To tear it down.

His father's voice.

Why did he hear his father? Who even was his father? What did his father wan-

"Oi"

Izuku let out a silent curse as he nearly dropped the water he had been holding and looked up from the table he had been sitting at. The rest of the classroom he had chosen was empty minus the patch of spiky blonde hair that sat opposite him.

He didn't remember Bakugou coming in, but he usually never did.

Red eyes narrow at him, "What are you thinking about?"

Izuku looks down at the Bento that sits in front of him.

"Do you ever wonder what parts of you are from your mom and from your dad?"

Bakugou takes a moment and responds the same way he does to most questions, bluntly, "No."

"Hmm."

Izuku picks up a piece of chicken from his plate and pops it into his mouth. His mom had been getting on his case about eating more, saying he was looking too skinny these days.

He feels eyes on him again and looks up, "Why are you thinking about things like that?" Katsuki asks.

Izuku shrugs, "It feels like I have parts of my dad in me but they're hard to find."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Like I have feelings and thoughts that I just know are things he would think, but they don't come out very often." Izuku pauses and thinks for a moment, "It sometimes feels like the parts of my mom hold back the parts of my dad in me."

Katsuki looks at him for another moment and then snorts, "It doesn't work like that."

"How would you know?"

He can see the blonde's brow twitch, "I just do." The teen then picks up a piece of fish from his own lunch and looks back to the greenette, "Why did professor dipshit ask to see you when class finished up?"

Izuku can't help the twitch of his lips at the nickname Bakugou had given their civics teacher. An old man that spends the hour-long class, standing tall on a soapbox of government-sponsored ideals, preaching about the liberties and joy of a quirk focused Japan.

"He didn't like my essay."

"Shocker," Katsuki mutters.

Izuku frowns, "It's not like he can take points off if he doesn't agree with it."

"Did you write five pages over the requirement again?"

Izuku shakes his head, "That was one time alright? I just- I guess I just got carried away."

"You wrote twenty pages on the problems of the current diet party, you dumbass."

"I kept finding more and more things that were wrong."

"The goddamn prompt was for you to write about pre-quirk era politics!"

Izuku sighs, "Yeah, I guess I forgot about that."

Katsuki studies the boy closely, "What did you write about this time?"

Izuku picks up another piece of chicken, "The hearts and minds party."

Bakugou lets out a tsk. "Those freaks? Writing about them is exactly what they want you to do."

Midoriya's eyes widened at the astute nature of Katsuki's comment and the fact that the boy seemed plenty aware of one of the fastest-rising political parties in Japan. The group, deemed 'The party for liberation', had been seeing more and more screen time over the past several months with the announcement that Hanabata Koku would take over as the elected leader. The man known for slicked hair and flashy suits had a knack for public speaking and it seemed that Izuku would find him on a different news channel every day, taking shots at the government in a post All Might Japan.

At first, it seemed like a cool and unique spin on capitalizing on the desire for true freedom in the usual monotonous life of a Japanese citizen. But under the surface, the party was something much more dangerous. In a world of true freedom, the strong would rein over the weak, eventually snuffing out those with 'unfit' quirks entirely through quirkist policies and legislation. If the party was able to secure any type of actual control in the country, it would be just a more dramatic and sped-up version of what was currently happening.

"Did you see the rumors that Hanabata was seen getting dinner with the Detnerat CEO and Arakawa Shingo?"

Bakugou looked down at the rice he was picking at, "Yeah, but that could mean anything. You're reading too much into things with stories like that."

Midoriya shrugged, "Maybe I am. But I also know that Arakawa seems to be stepping down from the HPSC. Doesn't seem like the kind of guy to just disappear once he's no longer there."

Katsuki frowned, "What is a step up from the president of the HPSC? " He then blinked once and looked back to the other teen, "He's looking at the PM spot?

Izuku looked to both of his hands that rested on the table, "I don't know, maybe you're right and it's nothing. But maybe it's not."

Bakugou mulled the thought, rolling it around slowly, trying to pick up any intricacies that he might have missed at first.

"HPSC and Hearts and Minds are aligned?"

Izuku had the same thought. He wasn't sure what to do with it and didn't entirely care since he would be out of Japan sooner than later.

"Arakawa feels above the hearts and minds party. I'm not sure why they wouldn't just let Hanabata take the PM role since he has been the leader of the party for some time now."

Katsuki sighed, "My head always fucking hurts when I talk to you. And even if they are aligned it won't matter much in the end."

"And why won't it matter?"

Bakugou smirked, "As long as the top heroes know what's right then the party won't get in their way."

Izuku snorted, "You think the heroes could become more powerful than the commission that controls them?"

"All Might was bigger than the commission."

Izuku considered the point and he supposed it was true, but what did All Might do with that power? Did he try to create legitimate societal change, reversing a troubling course it had begun to walk since his own rise to power? No, he focused on doing the most he could within the limits of the commission. And to be fair, it is a lot to put on one man, this idea of pivoting long-standing beliefs on the idea of power and how we should value quirks and the human they belong to. But All Might wasn't just any regular man. He was the Symbol of Peace. A title he never gave to himself, but certainly never denied.

Izuku scoffed. Peace? What a joke. Was his mother peaceful? Were the lives of those who were looked down on peaceful? All Might was always smiling, but was anyone smiling now? Endeavor never smiled, the weary man looking like he'll collapse from the societal and self-made pressure he put on himself to live up to a god and solve a Kaiju issue that wasn't even his responsibility. Izuku grit his teeth and he could feel his hand twitching on the table and bile in the back of his mouth.

"And what did All Might do with that power, huh? All Might didn't change anything. He knew what was happening and turned his back on the big problems to solve the smaller ones. All Might made nothing better, he only slowed down the speed of everything becoming worse."

The two boys both blinked in surprise at the venom in the response. Izuku slowly felt the bile in his throat fade away and his hand seemed docile, no longer twitching, and tweaking at his every word. The green-haired teen took a breath and a long, shaky sip of water.

Was that his anger? Were those his words?

Katsuki looked like he had seen a ghost and took a similar amount of time to collect himself, then spoke in a much more subdued tone, "I thought you loved All Might, that you thought he was the greatest hero ever."

"All Might was the greatest. And yet, he still wasn't good enough."

Katsuki's eye twitched at the comment, "He just didn't have the support he needed. Heroes could become the most powerful figures in the country if they wanted."

Izuku shook his head, "There is no way the HPSC would ever let a group of heroes have more power than themselves. That would completely eliminate the whole point of the commission."

"If the top hero had a plan, if he could bring ever-"

"It can't happen, Katsuki. Quit that dream."

Bakugou flinched at the abrupt denial and the usage of his first name which he rarely heard from Izuku, "You don't think I can do it? Do you not think I could be number one? Who else would take it, huh? Endeavors kid or the golden girl, Shimura? You really don't think I could take those fuckers on?"

Izuku looks back at his friend. He could see the rage in his eye but then saw an equally prominent separate feeling.

Desperation.

He frowned slightly. In some twisted way, Izuku and Katsuki were somehow friends again. After everything that had happened, after all, that Bakugou did, they somehow found themselves back together.

How was that possible? How did he end up back friends with his biggest tormentor? The culprit of most of the misery he felt in his early childhood years. And how did Bakugou suddenly accept him and choose to see him as an equal rather than the mud on his shoe?

Had he changed or had Katsuki changed?

And how was it that now Katsuki was the idealist, and he was the pessimist? Did Katsuki believe so strongly in his own future success that he could pull Japan along with him?

Or was it at this point, Katsuki had nothing left but to pursue a future that could make up for his past?

Midoriya looked at this friend from across the table, "I think you could become number one. But that's not the problem. You can't change anything while working with the commission. If you end up being appointed number one it means that they must believe that you could help them achieve their goals."

The blonde drops his bento back on the table and scowls at the words. "Tch. At least I'm trying something. What the hell are you going to do, huh? Running away? Are you kidding me Izuku? You're willing to talk about all the shit going on and you're just turning your back?! What the hell?!"

Izuku grit his teeth, "It's for my mom, she can't be here anymore."

"You're running away! It may be for her but you're still just leaving. And you know it."

Izuku flinches slightly at the pained undertones in the statement. He knew Bakugou wasn't going to be thrilled with the news, but why did he care so much? Izuku had already brought up the idea of voice chatting and the possibility of visiting. But it wasn't enough for Bakugou and deep down, maybe it wasn't enough for Izuku either.

Why was he running away? Why did he feel so unsatisfied? Where was the life his father laid out for him?

The bell rang, a shrill noise snapping the two out of their own downtrodden moods. Both quickly grabbed their belongings with Katsuki taking the lead and arriving at the door first. The blonde didn't turn back but stopped while Izuku placed the empty bento in his bag.

"Are you coming or going to sit there all day?!"

Izuku looked up at the teen that was still standing in the doorway. Still waiting for him.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

~Revelations~

Nothing was working.

It had been several weeks since Yaoyoruzo Momo had started training with Shimura Nana. And she hadn't caught up to the girl in the slightest. If anything, the gap had only widened, with Shimura seemingly getting stronger every day at a pace that Momo could not match.

She tried changing her exercise routine, her diet, her sleep schedule. Nothing worked, nothing changed.

She could feel their gazes on her, burying deep into her skull while she would sit at the wide dinner table. A luxurious spread, made by the finest chefs in the world and it was all for her.

Or was it for them?

"How is it going Momo, darling? How is the training going with the Shimura girl?"

Momo's breath quickened at the question. She expected it yet it still caught her off guard.

"I-It's going well mother, w-we're both progressing quite nicely."

A smile stretched across the woman's face that sat opposite of her. To most, it would have looked like an affectionate motherly gesture to calm a nervous daughter.

Momo knew the truth.

"We know you can do it Momo, in time you'll become the best out there." Her father mentioned between bites of seafood.

Best out there? Better than Hawks? Better than Todoroki? Better than Honenuki? Better than… her?

The meal tasted bland in her mouth. It was hard to swallow when she felt their eyes on her. Asking silent questions. Speaking silent truths.

Momo also hated how similar they looked. How there would be times when she would be mistaken as the 'Great' Shimura Nana, the wonder girl of the future, the potential next number one hero. The look the stranger would make when she would tell them who she really was would tear her insides up.

Wasn't she supposed to be the one? She remembered the tears when her parents found out what her quirk was for the first time.

It's perfect Momo! It's the perfect quirk and with it you'll be the perfect hero!

At the time she giggled and cried with them. Picturing herself saving lives, the number one hero, her parents smiling at her! It was all so perfect.

She learned later it was all too perfect.

The first time she had fought Nana in a tournament, she had lost in six seconds. The girl was on her side in an instant and before Momo could even blink, she was thrown out of bounds landing sprawled in a position where she could spot her parents in the crowd, a mix of despair and horror painted on their faces.

Don't worry about it, dear! I'm sure you'll beat her next time.

She never did. The words became heavier over time, pilling on her back, weighing her down when her rival floated above it all. How could she do that? How could she try to smile and joke with her during their sessions, like she didn't know what she was doing?

There had been one time when Momo had run into the pro hero Midnight after a fight. The woman had apparently come to support a niece and frowned when she saw the tears that were still staining her face. Another loss, this time to some sort of bird boy with a shadow quirk and she didn't even have the chance to go against Nana.

"Hey, what's wrong Yaoyoruzo? You fought really well out there!"

"B-But I l-lost. I-I let them down again."

The R18 Heroine bent down and looked the girl in the eye, "Let who down?"

"M-my parents."

Midnight frowned, "Yaoyoruzo, you must always remember something. If you're going to be a hero, you need to be it for yourself."

She forgot those words as soon as her parents locked eyes with her from the stands after the tournament was finished. They didn't even need to say anything. Their faces conveyed the word clear enough.

Disappointment.

Shimura Nana stood smiling at the top of the podium, and she was watching from what felt like miles away.

The teen sat in her room, phone in her hand. She knew what she was going to do was wrong, but she had to do something. Nothing was working. Nothing was changing. She had to do better. She had to be the best she had to beat her shecantloseshecantloseshecantloseshe-

A ping on her phone startles her enough to drop the thing on her bed. Perspiration lines her brow and she can feel it again. The heaviness on her shoulders. The words that are said in the car or at the dining room table. And the words that aren't said but still heard.

You're not good enough, are you Momo?

Her family needed her. The Yaoyoruzo name needed her.

But she knew she couldn't catch Nana. At least with how things are now. But maybe she could slow the girl down. Her parents had given her connections all over Japan as if they expected her to use this strategy all along.

She skimmed the message she received and nodded slowly. Everything was set. Everything was in place.

This was okay, right? There was no other way, right? She just needed to slow the girl down and then everything would be better. And then her family would be better. Her parents would be better. They would smile at her, real smiles with warmth and love.

Yaoyoruzo Momo then smiled to herself. She would have shivered if she had seen it in a mirror.

But if her parents would have seen it, their lips would be pulled up and their teeth would be slightly visible underneath. It was a Yaoyoruzo smile. It was a smile that had built one of the largest companies in the world, one of the biggest names in Japan.

Momo knew that it was impossible to rise and match the heights that the wonder girl was reaching.

But maybe it was possible to drag and pull Shimura Nana down.

Key Players Log

Dabi. Age 21.

Okuta Kagero. 41.

Midoriya Izuku. 16

Bakugou Katsuki. 16.

Yaoyoruzo Momo. 16.

Authors Notes:

- More world and character building, we finally get to see Dabi and Giran for the first time and I'll bring up more about their past together in the future.

- Another check-in with Izuku and Katsuki, with Izuku starting to grow more restless and Katsuki trying to convince his friend that he can fix things. Katsuki is probably a bit OOC for the story, but I like to think he's been growing since the roof incident in chapter 2 which was a while ago now.

- The last section might have seemed a bit random, but Momo will have a pretty significant role in the story and we'll learn more about her plan in the next chapter.

- Overall, probably not my best chapter but I needed to lay more groundwork! Up next we'll check in with Nana along with Shoto and Endeavor, thanks for reading!