SO UPDATE TIME.

Two quick notices though. Firstly, the last chapter got a LOT of feedback from you guys and I wanted to let you know, I have heard your issues loud and clear. Less crying, more... not crying. In that light, this chapter was edited heavily to change one of the scenes (you can guess which one) and I'm going to try and do better to lighten the angst bombs, which actually won't be that hard considering what's coming up.

Secondly, MOONPAW MADE MORE ART.

Firstly NEMESIS IN COLOR: post/186710316657/fire-and-shadow-upon-the-world

Secondly MORE OF DA BOIZ: post/187452875977/love-these-two

P.S. I dunno if the links will work on fan fic dot net so it's a dice roll there.

Go give Moonpaw ALL the reblogs. ALL OF THEM.

Now, TIME FOR READING!


Tomura's hands clenched on his knees as his jaw set tightly in his mouth. His eyes were fixed on the screen, watching as the boy, Izuku Midoriya, was taken off on a stretcher. It had only just resumed the signal after their combined powers of light and dark had short-circuited the signal. No doubt the stupid, ignorant camera crews would blame atmospheric interference or some other pointless excuse.

The battle had been… glorious. It had been glorious. There was no other way to put it and he hated himself for even admitting it silently. But he couldn't deny that the Beast and the Knight had fought well, and fought brutally, as their stations would have demanded.

It didn't diminish his hatred for them both of course. If anything, he hated them even more now, knowing that a Knight Templar was at the school, along with this demonic monster pretending to be a timid child.

Seeing them also having to place Ibara into a stretcher and take her off had been satisfying, even if she had somehow remained on her feet despite being completely unconscious.

And as for Izuku, the host of Nemesis, well… the fact that he hadn't revealed his true form was confusing to say the least. He could have easily torn the girl apart, and probably half the stadium. No doubt, however, the monster was waiting for a more opportune time. He doubted even something as strong as that beast could take on a stadium filled with heroes.

"So, that was my sibling's little project?" The androgynous, soothing voice of Father caused him to sit up straighter, "How…" He drifted off for a moment before sighing softly, "Disappointing."

Tomura didn't turn his head, though he did hear Father lean further back into the old couch. The rustling of silken robes indicated further movement, and he didn't need to look to his Father to know he was linking his fingers together. He often did that when he was being thoughtful.

"He's so… uncoordinated, so unbalanced," There was a sneering dismissal in his voice that made him want to agree with every word. He fought his urge and instead kept silent. "It's like he has no idea how to use his own blessings. Are you sure he was the one to defeat you, Tomura?"

There was a very subtle insult in those words. An insult that Tomura took to his core, but he swallowed it down despite how bitter it tasted. "I'm sure, Father. He's the one, but he didn't-"

"He didn't use his full strength, yes I noticed," There was a chuckle that would have made weaker men fall to their knees in adoration, "But there was more than that at play. After watching him, I'm not sure he even knows how to use his own strength. He could have torn her apart, and even if he had wanted to retain his cover he should have won. And why was he revealing himself so openly? As if he has no idea how to hide his true self? I don't know what my sibling is playing at with this… pitiful excuse for a creature," He hm'd for a moment, "His wings were beautiful though. I would love to have them for myself."

Tomura did not talk about wings, not around Father Satani. If this was bait, he would not take it.

There was a long and quiet pause broken only by the adverts now playing on the screen.

He could feel the tension rising in the air and he found it harder to breathe. He wanted to grab someone and choke them just to get this feeling to leave. He wanted to paint their blood across their walls and dedicate their souls to his Father. Part of him even wanted to do penance for his defeat, to prove to his Father that he was sorry for his loss.

Finally, Father spoke, shattering the tension, "This requires further investigation, which means we must plan for taking a closer look at the child."

The Fallen Angel stood to his feet, and Tomura immediately bowed his gaze as he began moving past him with an utterly alien grace, "A closer look, my Father?"

"Nothing for you to worry about for now," Father Satani smiled through his words, and it was almost intoxicating, "Just let me prepare the stage for your Ascension. Trust in me, I will see your destiny fulfilled."

"Yes, of course, my Father. I just-" He knew he shouldn't have spoken, but his anger was too great, his hatred almost boiling out of his own skin, "I want to kill them. I want to kill Nemesis and all those pathetic fools who don't know. I want to-"

"Quiet."

Tomura shut his mouth immediately, was all too aware that his Father was standing before him now. He could see the ornate white and golden robes flowing about the floor. Despite the fact they trailed around him, they never seemed to get even the slightest bit dirty, nor did they ever seem unwieldy on him. He moved within them like he was born into them.

Perhaps he was. Tomura didn't question things like that anymore.

Suddenly, fingers of purest white skin, with long, sharpened fingernails the color of death's black embrace, touched his chin.

"Raise your eyes, my child."

Tomura did as he was told, and he looked upon the face of the Glorious One.

Hair, golden like the splendor of perfection itself, fell about his face, long and flowing and ending at his upper chest. There was one long braid within his hair, that fell along the left side, and was embedded with a white metal charm, etched with black words of terrible power.

His face was utterly androgynous, neither male nor female and, if one looked long enough, no longer appeared human at all. More like a conceptual image of what an ideal human should look like. It was like every fashion model, every sculpted archetype, every young and beautiful figure to be painted on Renaissance canvases had melded and combined together and made something that was perfect, yet so perfect it became awful to behold.

Even now as he looked upon him, Father's face seemed to change with every shift of the candlelight or the electronic light of the television. It shifted in tiny, maddening ways that Tomura couldn't explain but could still see with his own eyes. Becoming ever more perfect, ever more inhuman, ever more terrifying to behold.

Father Satani. One of The Fallen. Lord of Desire and Need. He Who Wants. She Who Takes.

There were few things which were forever constant about Father Satani's face, though there were some. The first were the horns which raised from his forehead, curving and flowing upward, bull-like and great. They were unlight black, and themselves adorned with further charms of gold and precious metals.

The second were his eyes. His eyes.

They were the black of the oblivion which awaited them all, with the only exception being the blazing gold of his irises, which were narrowed and serpentine.

To look into those eyes for too long could drive a person mad. Tomura knew it to be true, as he had seen men and women both fall to their knees, their minds and wills broken in the face of the gaze of the Fallen Angel.

Father Satani smiled and flashed the third constant. His teeth. Perfectly white themselves, without a single blemish or tarnish, they were also fanged and sharp, adding to the snake-like aura of his features.

And if one didn't fall to his eyes, they would fall to his smile.

Tomura braced his own heart from exploding within his chest, by pure willpower he fought down the urge to bow and scrape at the feet of this mighty creature.

Satani stretched his arms gently out to either side of him. All four of them. All four adorned with gilded, golden bands and long, perfect fingers with ornate rings, some linked by chains, other jewelry pieced directly into his flesh. Not a single one seemed out of place or ugly or imperfect.

"You are my child," Father Satani spoke, bringing joy to Tomura's heart, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Father."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, Father."

"Then know that you are special to me. You are my Ender of Days, and one day you will kill all those you desire to kill, but for now, you must learn patience," Father Satani's smile softened, "All will come to pass as intended, as I've foreseen, and you will Ascend. But for now," And now he moved, gliding past Tomura and away towards the door, "Rest and recover. There is work to be done before we strike again."

The moment Father left the room, Tomura breathed as though he had never breathed before and sank back onto the couch. Being around Father Satani was both the most wonderful, and terrible, experience in the world, and certainly the most draining. Still, he trusted his Father. He loved his Father. He would do whatever was asked of him because he knew it was his duty.

Even if, deep inside, he still hated Izuku Midoriya and that demon Nemesis. No matter what his Father promised, or Sensei planned for him, he would see the host dead by his hands and that monster, that beast, chained to his will.

That was a promise he would keep, if only to himself.


Izuku awoke with a jolt, just as he always did.

For a split second his eyes went wide, and his hands gripped the bedsheets. No, not hands, just hand. The other clenched tight against something strong and firm that was wrapped around his entire wrist and ran all the way down his arm.

He panted deeply, his breaths coming so sharp and biting that he was verging on a panic attack. Immediately his head moved from side to side, trying to find out where he was, what he had done, what horror he had caused this time.

The scene that greeted him was one that had greeted him a thousand times before. Clean clinical walls, a curtain half-drawn around his bed, the mechanical beeping of machines monitoring his vitals and the old bee sting of an IV drip in his hand. There was an open window, through which a soft and soothing breeze entered, though the curtain was drawn just so that Izuku was kept in shadow, rather than in natural light.

Once again, the ache of his wounds launched themselves like a wave across his body. His arm had it the worst, and whatever drugs they had him on this time were doing a piss-poor job at keeping the worst of it at bay.

The memories began dripping back through his mind one at a time, like a leaky faucet. His fight with Ibara, the war they had commenced on one another, the all-consuming rage he had felt, the holy burn of blessed lightning through his veins as she had smashed at him over and over again with her flail-mace. The blood, the fire, the hate. It came back as clear as day, though not quite in the perfect high definition his Nemesis-based memories usually served.

"WE WON!"

A sudden flair rushed through his blood and it was so unexpected that he almost jolted upright.

"WE WON! VICTORY IS OURS!"

"Nnnhh," Izuku rubbed at the side of his head with his good arm, the other held tight in a cast. Slowly the boy pushed himself up into a sitting position and tried to ignore how the light stung at his eyes. "I- I don't know if we did."

"We stopped her at the last moment, she was consumed by our fire and thrown back. She had to have fallen before we did."

"We wouldn't have fallen at all if you hadn't-"

"She was trying to kill us, and we were only going to defend ourselves. It is a natural reaction. We had no intention of killing anyone but her, she was our target. We shouldn't have pulled back, but it does not matter, we won even if she still lives."

Izuku went to argue with his inner monster but the door to the other end of the room suddenly burst open and in rushed his friends. Before he could even react, they were upon him, Ochaco grinning widely, Tenya shouting to the others not to crowd him, Fumikage with a proud look to his eyes and an uptick to his beak and even Hitoshi with a smirk to his lips.

"G-Guys!"

"GIVE HIM SOME AIR!" Tenya ordered and brought a hand down before his friend, stopping Ochaco from leaping into a hug, "He's injured! And Recovery Girl told us-"

"Izuku that was amazing!" Ochaco grinned, cutting right over Tenya, "I've never seen you fight like that!"

"Indeed, my friend," Fumikage added as he circled to Izuku's side, "I'm not sure anyone knew you were capable of such skill. Today you proved many naysayers wrong."

"T-Thanks!" Izuku felt himself blush and his tail quickly began swaying from side to side. He felt fire flicker along his scars and Nemesis seemed to bloom in his chest, though not from any hate or anger, but purely on pride. Pride for itself, for Izuku, for them both for beating the Knight who had so boldly come to end his life. "I-I don't know what happened I just…" He drifted for a moment, looking to his good hand before curling it and looking back to the others, "Nemesis and I… we've never been in sync like that before. It was… crazy…"

"Just try to remember how you did it next time we're in class," Hitoshi added again, "Maybe you'll get a C-plus! Maybe even a B-minus!"

"He means next fight," Nemesis suddenly hissed, "And we can do it again, all we have to do is hate our enemy and wish to destroy them as much as we wished to destroy her."

"Well, I gotta see if I can do it for the next round first," Izuku brushed off his inner monster's comments as he pushed himself to the edge of the bed. He looked to his cast and frowned, "Dunno how I'm gonna fight with this on though." A sudden silence took hold of the room, causing Izuku to look up. "… what?"

His friends exchanged glances and within a second he already knew what it meant.

"… Dude, did they not-"

"She won, didn't she?" The words came from his lips, not as a quiet tremble but a bitter snap. He felt his fingers curling around the cast as he felt the anger bubble in his stomach and his tail quickly became still. "They gave the round to her."

"I'm sorry, Izuku," Fumikage sighed from the side of the bed, and his eyes narrowed in irritation, though not at Izuku himself, "They said you fell unconscious first, therefore she was given the victory. You both fought like lions, to the bitter end, and only through chance was it given to her."

"NO!" Nemesis suddenly snapped like too-tense razor wire in his brain, "NO! We won, WE WON! SHE FELL FIRST!"

The fire spiked through his blood, but for once, Izuku did little to stop it. He was pissed too, and that surprised him. Usually, he'd be upset, crying, sad. But this time… this time he was just angry. He had fought in an almost unity with Nemesis, they had given it their all, and they had obeyed the rules.

When told to stop, they hadn't moved. Ibara had attacked first, and Izuku had only raised his hand to, as Nemesis so eagerly pointed out, defend himself, or themselves as the case may be.

The air must have heated around him, as his friends moved back ever so slightly.

"If it makes you feel better, you're not the only one who's pissed."

"Aizawa-sensei argued for you over the loudspeakers," Tenya added with a nod, and a matching frown, "He said Ibara broke the rules by not backing off, though ultimately it was Kayama-sensei's call. Personally, I agree, and I don't think a penalty of a week's detention after the festival is over was enough."

"They just want to keep the pretty girl with the good grades on TV," Hitoshi added with a slight growl to his tone, "It's a fucking rip-off if you ask me. You won that fight, Izuku. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Yeah!" Ochaco curled her fists to her chest and put on a determined expression, "You were robbed!"

Izuku's grip on the bed was tight, and he found himself taking slow, deep breaths as he processed all of this. Nemesis continued to howl inside him, though it was not, for once, blaming Izuku directly. It was blaming everyone else, everyone who had conspired to keep them down, to deny them the victory they had so richly deserved.

"Do you know what her plan was?" Izuku finally spoke, causing another bout of silence to settle over his friends. When they didn't answer, as he expected, he looked to them. And for just that moment, his eyes seemed shadowed, "She wanted to push me to my limit. To force Nemesis into the open, so that the heroes in the audience would kill me. I could see it in her eyes, she didn't care about anything else. I don't think she even cares about winning this tournament. She just wanted to expose me."

The look of horror and shock on his friend's faces said it all.

"But she didn't. She didn't win. She didn't make me lose control." Izuku spoke with a heavy breath, and with it came all the teeth-grinding anger that had been boiling in his blood for the last several moments. "I don't care if I don't continue, because- because I think that is my victory." He shook his head, "Besides, even if I did win, I can't continue with a broken freakin' arm."

"It still sucks though," Hitoshi grumbled, "But I'm glad you're seeing it that way. Me, personally? I'm going to start a hashtag. Hashtag-devilboiwasrobbed."

"I'll share that," Ochaco added with a swift grin.

"Me too," Tenya added.

"Same," Fumikage put a hand to Izuku's shoulder, a rare show of actual contact from the boy. It was greatly appreciated.

Izuku shook his head but allowed the good humor to push away the last of Nemesis's anger. Well, perhaps not all of it. A healthy amount still rested in his heart where he knew, deep inside, that he had been denied his victory and it had been because he was an uncontrollable mess.

But he wouldn't cry over it. Not this time. This time he'd keep it ready for when he next faced Ibara, as he already knew this wouldn't be the last time they would go toe to toe.

And next time? Next time he'd be the last one standing.


Ibara's head ached from the raw and bloody gnawing pain of the overuse of her quirk. She had awoken with a jolt, as she always seemed to wake, and it had washed over her soon after. She hadn't felt such a migraine since the early days of training with her brother.

Yet for the past few minutes, Ibara had laid in her medical bed. Her eyes wide and staring at the ceiling above her.

She had failed.

She was unmoving as she lay. Her forehead was wrapped in a bandage, and across her body were numerous patches, gauzes, and bandages from the heavy wounds she had suffered. Recovery Girl had done her best to heal her without draining her completely. It didn't matter, she had long since been trained to ignore such minor injuries.

Her head lolled slowly to one side, looking to the side table where her phone lay. She reached over to it with one aching hand and picked it up. There was a slight clink of metal tapping metal as the small cross charm she kept on it tapped the table.

She had messages from Katsuki and one from Principle Nedzu telling her of her punishment for disobeying the rules, a week's detention, but nothing else.

Nothing from her church. Nothing from Prioress Shizuka, or her Ecclesiarch, and the texts she was sending to her brother were no longer getting through at all. She laid the phone flat to her chest, her fingers curling around it tightly.

It was… worrying her.

She needed to confess her sins. She needed to tell them how she had failed to expose and defeat the demon within Izuku Midoriya. She knew she had risked his life by doing so, but at this point, he had most likely been dead for several years anyway. The demon was all that was left within him, using his corpse as a puppet, keeping his heart beating and his brain dead.

It was a horrific fate and an affront to the Lord.

And she had failed. She had failed to unleash the monster… and she shouldn't have done.

She had done everything right. She had grasped him tightly within her holy grip and used all of her willpower to fill the beast full of her faith. By all rights, he should have burst into flame there and then. He should have been unable to even touch her at all, and he should have been exposed to the entire world as the monster he was.

And… he hadn't.

He had done something no demon had ever done before. He had weathered her touch and he had struck back.

And now she lay there. A failure. What had she done wrong? Had her faith not been strong enough? Was she somehow lacking in her devotion to God?

Was it… her relationship with Katsuki? Was that it? Was this punishment for leaking secrets about their order to him, in her blinded attempts to try and heal his soul? She was convinced that with the right words, with the right persuasion, the blonde would see the light. She had never seen a person so perfect for the role of a hero, or a Knight. His dedication and bravery were incredible. He had faced the demon twice, and yet was still willing to fight such evil again.

He didn't believe, but she had thought that maybe…

Pride. Pride had blinded her to think she could turn another to their cause all by herself, without bringing him to the Church or introducing him to her Ecclesiarch and her betters. Pride, that most sinister and creeping of sins.

Ibara breathed deep, trying to control the age-old feeling of inadequacy from rising within her. She needed to be more like her brother, whose devotion to the Church and their order was absolute. He was a true Knight's Templar, and he was leading by example, arguing constantly that they needed to be out there, slaying the demons that walked amongst them all. The Ecclesiarch refused to let him, and they argued often.

Her brother had called him a fool, and she had disagreed with him.

Maybe… maybe that was the wrong answer. Maybe he had been right all along. Maybe they should be harder, more open in their war against the shadows.

She had sinned within her heart, and this was her punishment. That the demon continued to walk free, to recruit other possessed and foolish souls to his side. What he was planning, and why he was doing all this she had yet to find out.

But she would stop him. She would have to once again bide her time, to wait for the right moment, but she would stop him.

She had to redeem herself in the eyes of her God, her family and her Church.

And yet some of his words filtered through her memory even now, We just want to be a hero. He had used the pronoun often in the fight and now she wondered if there was more than one demon within that body. Or was it more of a parasite-host situation than she had first assumed? The earnestness to which he had spoken however, it had almost made her believe it was true.

But her faith was too strong to be shaken by the lies of a demon.

Ibara slowly looked back to the phone in her hand and unlocked it with a touch.

'What the fuck was that?'

'What the fuck happened?'

'What the fuck?'

'You better fucking answer me or I'll come down there and drag you out of that bed by your fucking hair.'

Despite everything, she found herself smiling. She tried to stop herself but that only resulted in a sort of half-strangled laugh before she put an aching arm across her eyes, trying to stop the tears that had formed there.

Her first real friend-who-was-not-a-friend in the world was an absolute jerk, even she would admit that. But God had his reasons for making each of his children unique. God had reasons for everything.

She raised her arm back, a wobbling smile on her lips as she began to type back, 'I'm fine. I failed my mission and my Oath is broken. I'm sorry.'

There was about a second before Katsuki quickly replied back, 'SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH.' Ibara only blinked tiredly at this before another message popped onto the screen, 'You beat the bastard, now he'll be scared of you. Your fucking priest or whatever and your brother should be proud, and if they're not, they're assholes.'

Ibara knew this was about as good as any praise she was ever likely to get from Katsuki, and it warmed her heart. She would never tell him, of course, because he would rant and rave about how he didn't care, but… she knew. Deep inside she knew he cared.

But it didn't take away from the fact that she had failed. She would never be able to go back and undo that mistake.

She had to start asking for forgiveness.

Slowly, ignoring the bites of pain that gnawed at her body, she sat up and slid off the bed. Her phone buzzed with more messages from Katsuki, but she brushed them aside.

Ibara knelt down beside the bed, clasped her hands, and began to pray.


Chiyo Shuzenji sighed as she looked over the video feeds of the medical wards, then she turned her attention to the readouts the beds were giving her of the general states of health that they provided for each patient.

Beside her temporary desk in the waiting room-come-office space rested her old walking stick, and before her, beside the computer screen, were piles of papers waiting to be sorted through. She glanced at them for a moment, before looking back to the video feed of Izuku Midoriya who was surrounded by his friends. This child, this irritating, problem child. First, he comes in for getting stupidly hurt fighting another boy, then he gets hurt by letting his clearly out-of-control quirk take him over, now he gets hurt fighting a girl who clearly should have lost the match the moment she tried to strangle him.

And they even let her win.

Politics. That's what it was, it was all down to Nedzu and his little politics. Gotta keep the good-looking girl with the high grades on screen and shove the problem child under the carpet. By all rights Izuku had won that round, after all, he had responded to the command to stop when told to stop, he hadn't been the one to rush forward to continue the battle.

But he made some of the teachers 'nervous' and his quirk was 'unpredictable'. The old woman shook her head, "Politics." She mumbled as she leaned back in her chair, "It's always politics with him, Nedzu and his damned greater good."

"Are you talking ill of our leader?" The old woman almost jumped in her chair, and her eyes shot up to see the smirking face of Hokori, with those eyes that always seemed to remind her of just how old she really was, even though his spectacles. Her bones ached and her lingering arthritis seemed to bite suddenly at her knuckles. "I don't think that's very becoming of you, Chiyo."

"What are you doing here?" She barked at him, her eyes narrowing. He may remind her of her age, but she was Recovery Girl dammit, and she was old enough to laugh at things like death right to its face. "There are no ambulances to chase in my medical wing!"

"My apologies," He spoke with a smile that made no effort to meet his eyes, "I was asked to check in on the two students."

Check in? She had received no official notice from Nedzu about anyone coming down to check on the students, especially when they were in her care.

Chiyo's mind raced to find a reason before landing on the obvious. Nedzu was once again covering his legal bases, and despite Chiyo's reports being emailed directly to him after every match, he had no doubt sent his pet devil to go double-check and make sure that everything was running fine.

She scowled at this. He could at least afford her a little trust considering how long she'd been with the school.

"Why?" She demanded suddenly.

Hokori shrugged, "I need to see if Miss Shiozaki is well enough to continue or wishes to back out, and I need to make sure that Izuku does not feel as though the school was unfair to him with the ruling to give Miss Shiozaki the win."

She noticed that. An unusual slip in his words. Izuku. Miss Shiozaki. He was clearly in favor of one over the other. How odd. Usually Hokori didn't seem to care much about anyone other than himself and the school as a wider concept. As long as they could keep cranking out heroes, he paid little mind to those who got crushed under the wheels.

Still, she didn't let this distract her.

"I'm sure you're the last person either of them would like to talk to," Chiyo replied sharply, her hands gripping the arms of her chair, "And furthermore, I will say if Miss Shiozaki is well enough to continue. As for Mr. Midoriya, you can talk to him later. Right now, he needs another round of healing before I even consider letting him leave."

"But he's alright, correct? No lasting damage?"

Again, Chiyo felt a little thrown but this extremely unnatural concern he was showing but refused to show it, "No, no lasting damage. To either of them, I might add."

"Good," This seemed to brighten his mood, "Though I should still do my own report, so if you wouldn't mind-"

He went to step around the desk, but as if by magic Chiyo's cane was somehow in her hand and slamming down across her desk, blocking Hokori's path.

"This is my part of the school. If Nedzu wants a report, he can read it from me!" She shook her cane at the taller man with all the threatening power that she could muster. "Now piss off! Some of us have actual work to do!"

Hokori seemed to consider this for a moment, and he glanced down the corridor before nodding slowly, "I suppose I can leave it be for now. Make sure to email your results to both Nedzu and myself." He turned and began to walk away, taking out his phone to begin texting, "Keep an eye on Izuku, Chiyo. He fought hard today. He deserves the best."

Just as Hokori reached a far corner she haughtily called out, "And what about Miss Shiozaki, hm?"

He turned without breaking his stride, smiled, and called back, "She deserves her God."


The corridor was cool, though not cold, and from somewhere beyond the thick walls, painted in the striped colors of the school, echoed the mad bustling of thousands of people moving and talking and laughing and shouting.

Hitoshi breathed deep as he walked the halls of the stadium, making his way towards the locker room to prepare himself. They had been shooed out of Izuku's room by Recovery Girl who had wanted to give Izuku another round of healing before sending him on his way.

That was fine by them, and besides, Hitoshi had his own fight to prepare for.

It wasn't one he thought would reach the same level of… viciousness that the fight between Ibara and Izuku had reached, but even so he knew it wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

His plan was a careful one and hinged entirely on something he hoped would work.

If it didn't… well, he didn't have a backup plan.

It somehow seemed a world away, even though he knew soon he would be walking out in front of the entire stadium.

He was halfway down a corridor when he heard a voice, loud and commanding, calling to him and snapping him right out of his introspection.

Hitoshi blinked, then turned around.

And was greeted by a man on fire.

The hero Endeavor stood like a mountain made of scowls, flames and bulging muscles. As he began storming over to the teenager, Hitoshi couldn't help but feel a mixture of awe, shock, and more than a little fear. This man was huge, almost unnaturally so. The only hero Hitoshi had seen who was bigger was All Might himself.

And yet there was something… lacking about the man. Despite his huge frame, his intimidating gaze of icy blue, flaming facial hair and short-cropped rouge haircut, he seemed somehow lesser than he should be. As if there was a piece of him missing.

"You," He commanded, his voice the grunting bark of a drill sergeant, "You're my Shoto's next opponent, correct?"

As the man came to stand before Hitoshi, the young man found himself sharply reminded that this was Shoto's dad. They looked only vaguely alike and there was no way he could ever see Shoto achieving his father's immense build unless he stuffed himself full of steroids.

He was also reminded of what Shoto had told him about his father. About the abuse, the so-called 'training', and his mother. More so about the four words that had been carved into his mind since Shoto had spoken to him.

Cursed child. Devil touched.

Hitoshi's eyes narrowed as his purple irises almost glowed with the anger he felt building within him.

"Yeah," Hitoshi answered in a cold tone, even flashing a sarcastic smirk, "That's me."

"Your power is to control people, yes? Brainwashing?" Endeavor scoffed suddenly as the giant of a man looked him up and down as if measuring his worth, "A villainous quirk, but I'll give you some credit for not joining their side."

Hitoshi felt the insult like one would feel their hand being plunged into boiling water, but he held his tongue, at least for the moment. The more he looked at the man the more he was reading him. Egotistical, cruel, proud, single minded, supremely focused and unbelievably confident in his own power.

He could do it, easily. He could steal his will and make him jump off a cliff or run naked through the stadium and utterly humiliate him.

No, no that wasn't heroic. The man deserved it, but it wasn't heroic.

"What can I say, I've got a good soul," He replied again with that sly, knowing smirk across his face.

"You probably won't give my son a good fight, but at least try. His last opponent practically laid down for him."

Again, Hitoshi felt the scalding insult, and again he simply let it bottle up inside him.

He could play this game. And besides, it wasn't Endeavour he was going to try and save, clearly this one was beyond redemption.

"I'll do what I can," Hitoshi replied again with that fixed smirk on his lips.

"See that you do," The giant of a man simply commanded of him before moving and walking past him.

However, he had only taken a few steps when Hitoshi suddenly called out, "Hey, Endeavor?"

"What-" He froze as suddenly, his willpower, his self-control, everything was torn from him.

Hitoshi felt the string pull tight, but it was nothing for him to grasp within his mind. His smirk became even wider as he turned and looked to the man, who was simply looking back at him with wide, empty eyes.

"You talk an awful lot. Did you know that? And I need to tell you this without you speaking over me, so you're going to shut up and listen." Hitoshi shook his head at the dumbstruck and helpless hero as he turned to face him. His eyes hardened slowly, "Shoto isn't a tool for your ambition. He's not some trophy to be placed on a shelf when you're done with him. He's not a weapon you can swing in your hand at your enemies. He's a person, a living, breathing person, with a beating heart and a soul you've damaged."

His hands clenched into tight, shaking fists, "I don't know what you've done to him, but I've seen what Hell looks like, Mr. Todoroki," He practically spat the name out, "And trust me, you're more than deserving of it." He turned to walk away, "Now stand there like an idiot until I'm gone. I need to go punch your son in the face."


The sound of thousands of people moving and talking was an uncomfortable one for Izuku. Their seating, however, was nice, it was close to the arena floor itself, while still proving a little overview, shaded, and the seats were comfy.

Which was good, especially when he was feeling so utterly exhausted. He stepped down the stairs with a fresh energy drink held loosely in one hand, given to him to try and keep him awake for the rest of the day. His arm was no longer broken thanks to Recovery Girl but was still kept in a sling. Other bandages were wrapped tight across his forehead and chest and even one around his tail.

His joints ached, his bones ached, his tail ached, and he couldn't get the weird, coppery taste of blood out of his mouth no matter how many sips of his drink he took.

Nemesis still seemed pissed, and every now and then it would echo that they had won and that they should go fight her again just to prove it.

Yeah, Izuku was pretty sure he was done fighting insane fanatics for one day.

Yet despite the bitter frustration at his loss, there was pride there too. A pride that he clung to, a pride in his own victory. He had earned a win for his own self-esteem, no matter what Midnight had ruled.

No one could take that from him.

He slumped into his seat beside Fumikage and sighed loudly while rubbing his arm gently, "Don't ever break an arm, it really sucks."

"If I fight Ibara, I will make sure to do so from very far away," Fumikage mumbled as he ate a vegetable roll.

"Yeah, maybe with a sniper rifle," Ochaco quickly chipped in.

Izuku couldn't help but snort at the joke, even if he knew he really shouldn't.

"Here, have one," The bird-headed boy offered him one of his rolls, but Izuku shook his head. Fumikage lowered his offer and huffed in exasperation, "You are injured, you must build your strength."

Izuku again shook his head, "It's fine, they gave me a bunch of medication and honestly if I ate now, I'd probably be sick."

"A wise decision," Tenya nodded, "I remember when-"

"Guys! The look!" Ochaco again interrupted Tenya, which was apparently some kind of sport for her.

Izuku looked back to the stadium grounds. Kendo had won in her fight against Kyoka, and they were currently bowing in the ring, though quite unexpectedly a rather battered and bruised Kendo took a step forward and hugged Kyoka, who seemed to tear up at the embrace and hugged her back.

The crowd let out a huge cheer and Midnight quickly capitalized by espousing the comradery between all young heroes at U.A. A nice bit of P.R., and no doubt a quick attempt to cover the fact that the last fight had been an absolutely brutal bloodbath.

It was only as the next match flashed up on the screen did Izuku realize just who was up next, and who was missing from his side.

"H-Hitoshi's already gone?" He looked to the empty seat, then back to the others, "Why didn't any of you-"

"He didn't want us to go. He said he wanted to prepare alone," Ochaco answered with a shrug.

Izuku was already moving to his feet, "We should-"

"He said to tell you to sit down," Fumikage announced suddenly.

"But-"

"He also said no buts," Tenya added with a downward chop of his hand, "He said you'd need to rest and stop worrying about, well, I won't repeat-"

"-Dumb shit you can't help," Ochaco helpfully finished before she took a handful of Tenya's popcorn, which caused him to quickly snap, "Hey!", though Ochaco simply ignored him.

Izuku, however, pulled a face, still on his feet, "He didn't say-"

"He actually did," Fumikage announced, folding his arms, "We should respect his wishes. He is a strong and cunning warrior, after all."

Izuku, clearly caught between doing what his heart was telling him was the right thing and listening to the literal requests from his friends to sit down and stop worrying, found himself hesitating for a few seconds before finally he lowered himself back into his chair.

He desperately wanted to go help his friend out, to offer some advice or some tips on how he could beat his opponent, even though he was sure the entire stadium had already written it off as a victory for Shoto.

But he was also exhausted. His very soul ached and if it wasn't for his energy drink, he was half-sure he'd be asleep in his own chair.

Still, he couldn't help more anxiety wash over him with a prickle of candle heat, and his tail began swishing back and forth nervously as stadium readied itself for the next match.

He had no idea what Hitoshi was up to, or why he would request to be alone, but he hoped his friend would win. He hoped that Shoto simply didn't steamroll him into dust and that he could pull off some kind of a miracle.

Izuku, however, never placed much faith in hope.

There was a sudden roaring throughout the crowds as the adverts ended and once again the show was kicked back onto the road.

"HEEEEEY EVERYBODAAAAAY!" Present Mic's voice roared over the stadium speakers, causing those close to wince at the pure volume, "Are we ready for some more fights from the best students in the nation?!"

The crowd again erupted into cheers and Present Mic laughed heartily.

"It's been a roller coaster ride so far, with surprises and showdowns like no other! This year's class is somethin' else, ammarite, Erasurehead?"

"These are students who have already faced down villains in the past, and those that haven't have proven themselves worthy opponents, despite lacking in actual experience." The droning voice of Izuku's teacher reached across the stadium, "I commend all the classes on doing so well."

Weird how Aizawa managed to make even a compliment sound like a condemnation.

"You're right about that! And speaking of excellence, next up we have a Class One-A showdown special! Everyone give it up for the subtle manipulator, Hitoshi Shinsooooouuu!" Izuku's eyes turned to spot a shock of purple hair walking out onto the field, and he couldn't help a smile grow on his face at the sight of his friend.

Sure, Hitoshi stood almost no chance of winning this fight, unless somehow, he could make Shoto talk. Yet, even so, the way he walked seemed to tell the world he was ready to absolutely throw down with the best of them.

"He looks confident," Ochaco mumbled loud enough for the others to hear, "I wonder what his plan is."

"He can't rely on his quirk, surely," Tenya nodded, a hand thoughtfully on his chin, "So what else could he be thinking?"

Fumikage remained silent, though he slowly crossed his arms, his crimson gaze fixed on his friend.

"And his opponent, a young man who practically needs no introduction, Shoto Todoroooookiiiii!"

Shoto now walked out onto the field to the far larger roar of the crowd, his eyes fixed forward and his expression nothing but a stoic focus.

"Hey, Izuku?" Izuku turned his head in surprise only to find Eijiro poking him with a finger. Eijiro was always one of the select few in the class who seemed to have no fear of Izuku, which was something he had always appreciated. "How long do you think Hitoshi has?"

"Well, I guess it depends on if he can catch Shoto," Izuku replied with a shrug, "Otherwise… not long."

He hated to admit it because he hated to acknowledge what was before him. But it was the truth. Hitoshi, despite having an extremely powerful quirk, was at a clear disadvantage. Unless he could somehow convince Shoto to talk, which was unlikely as the boy could barely be made to answer questions in the classroom, he wouldn't win.

Shoto would just make a giant wall of ice and that'd be it.

"The Child of Pharaohs is sly, but he is more suited to striking from the shadows. This will not be easy for him."

Izuku couldn't help but nod at this, even if it was something he already knew.

"Let's make this a great one, guys!" Present Mic shouted once again over the PA system, though it was a little obvious that even in his tone he was already resigning this to the 'one minute and done' category.

Midnight stepped forwards, raising her whip up. Izuku could barely hear her shout out the rules of the fight to the two opponents, even though they had both been told before already, and, with a quick step back, a drop of her whip, and a shout of "GO' the match was started.

A huge rush of ice came at Hitoshi, and already half the crowd groaned at the clear knowledge of another quick match over and done with.

And then Hitoshi shouted something.

And just as the ice came to his feet, it stopped. Shoto stopped. The entire match seemed to stop, as if Shoto had frozen time itself.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" Present Mic's roar was enough to drown out the crowd and Izuku found himself almost rising to his feet, his tail swishing in sudden shock, "HE CAUGHT HIM! HITOSHI SHINSOU HAS BRAINWASHED SHOTO TODOROKI! WHAT A HUGE UPSET!"

Hitoshi had started walking towards Shoto, and around Izuku several other students had already jumped to their feet.

"GO HITOSHI!"

"ORDER HIM OUT THE RING!"

"DUDE, YOU'RE A BEAST!"

Only Fumikage and Izuku seemed to keep their silence, with Fumikage watching the events with a focused, crimson gaze, and Izuku frowning slowly in confusion.

Why was he walking towards Shoto? He could just order him right out the ring and be done with it, so what was he up too?

Hitoshi reached Shoto, and for a moment, simply stood before him, his mouth moving but all words lost to the roar and excitement of the crowd which had gone mad in the sudden turn of events.

And then, Hitoshi did something that no one saw coming.

He clenched his fist and punched Shoto right in the face.


SO hopefully the loss from the last chapter is evened out a little here. It actually felt good for Izuku to take some pride in his 'victory' against Ibara, and I also liked the contrast of Ibara feeling she lost in return. Contrasts/parallels between those two are fun to work with.

ALSO DAD LUCY CHECK' ON HIS BOY. He's probably texting Inko on the way back btw.

And then of course, Hitoshi just badassing it up. The next chapter fight is a fun (and maybe revealing) one. It's certainly gonna be fun launching into the slight break before the Kamino/Intern arc.

Till next time, thank you for reading my good dudes!