UPDATE TIME. This one is a little shorter than usual, but basically covers some quick ground as we move into the Stain arc... even though Stain doesn't technically exist in this AU.

Also, if you guys are enjoying this fic, I wanna urge ya'll go to check out some others that have come out recently and I totally wanna promote. Cos monster-quirk fics are awesome.

The first is Call Of The Basilisk by thebirdsareuptosomething. It has a really, REALLY strong opening which immediately veers way off the beaten path and is like, DUDE. MORE. Not to mention the hints at the quirk's true power/form are AWESOME. This has so much promise, go give it some love.

Secondly, Feral by Moonpaw. Moonpaw has always been totally promoted here before, but it turns out they're a great writer too! It's already a few chapters in and its a wonderful mix of grisly violence and charming innocence. Totally worth the read!

Finally, SOME FANART! Look up xionthedragonart on tumblr since fan fic dot net hates links! GO CHECK IT OUT! It has an AU Nemesis with TAIL FLOOF.

Anyway, enough rambling, TIME FOR FIC!


It turned out the Midoriya household was getting a new television because Inko had punched through the old one in a fit of rage so intense that Izuku had almost worried that her soul really had been corrupted. The moment he had gone milk-bottle pale and gasped out that he knew the man she had flown into a fit of hurricane-like anger, literally, with objects flying around the room as she used her quirk to express her fury.

Even Nemesis had seemed a little frightened at the intensity of her wrath, though in a way it had worked out for the best.

His own fear, his own panic, anger, and anxiety had been pushed aside as he had automatically gone to stop his mother from destroying their home.

He couldn't quite remember things after that. He had calmed her down at some point, and some point after that they had gone to bed. It was all something of a blur, one that he didn't really feel like remembering.

It had been a really, really long day. Hell, it had been a really long life at this point, and Izuku was wondering if there was a way he could get some kind of refund or complain to the manager. Not that the manager would listen to him since he was the kid of the guy who tried to blow the whole thing up that one time.

The next two days had been spent exchanging information with his mother in small, short little bursts of interaction. It turned out she really was rather ignorant on things like the Fallen, unborn, Hell and the like. What she knew was mostly just about Lucifer himself. That he was King of Hell, he hated the whole 'goat head thing', and that he especially hated being called Satan, though why she didn't know.

The small stories she told him about Lucifer painted a strange picture of the man, though Inko had pointed out that he wasn't even a man at all, or even of any particular gender. When Izuku had pressed her on this, his mother had blushed slightly and mumbled something about it not being an appropriate topic at the breakfast table.

From what Izuku knew, the Lord of the Fallen enjoyed sunsets, mint chocolate chip ice cream, hated takoyaki, thought winter was the best season, hated TV other than a few select shows, enjoyed youtube channels about nature, and that his favorite color was blue.

Yet at the same time he had told Inko that he ruled Hell and that its darkest realms were his personal domain, that he believed he could defeat All Might in a one on one match, and that he truly hated all of humanity and God, and wished nothing more than to tear it down and 'take back what was theirs'.

This blend of the bizarrely mundane mixed with the truly incredible was just… it was hard to picture, and he had told his mother such.

She had simply shrugged and replied that she'd been trying to understand him for years, and even when they were together she had never truly known the real him, just snippets of the creature he had presented to her. For all she knew all those things were false, just lies and deceptions designed to stop her from asking more questions.

She had repeatedly assured him though that he was nothing like his father, nothing like the creature she had known as Lucifer.

Lucifer.

The thought that he was the devil's son had finally started to sink into his bones by the time the weekend was over. He had played nice with his friends via the group chat, pretending that things were fine while, on a second chat, he had informed Hitoshi about what had happened.

His friend had offered all the advice he could, yet at this point, it was all becoming a little useless. Not that he didn't appreciate the effort, but, well, what else could he do? He had vented, he had talked to his mother, he had found that the man with eyes like death itself was his dad and now he was mentally analyzing and over-analyzing every meeting he'd ever had with him.

Izuku had always found it odd that Hokori, or rather Lucifer, had always seemed a little too friendly with him. Always showing unrequested support in the few meetings they'd ever had. Hell, if his memory served right, he'd called him 'son' the very first time they'd met.

He should have known or at least suspected something. But what had there been to suspect? He had been nothing but amicable and had hardly even hinted at any kind of deeper connection between the two of them. And besides, the man had an air of darkness that Izuku had been all too eager to forget.

He tried to remember the last time they'd met. It'd been after the Katsuki fight when he had let Nemesis go too far and almost unleashed it fully upon his former friend.

He'd not seen him once since then.

Izuku had wondered even further on what it could all mean, and not just the fact the man was his father. He'd said he handled the legal side of U.A., so did that mean the teachers knew who he really was? No, surely someone would say something, which meant he had to be hiding his identity from everyone. So, was he there only to keep an eye on Izuku? No, he had been there before Izuku had joined, so was it a coincidence or planned? Well, he had no idea how long he'd been working there for one, though he seemed to know All Might and knew him without his All Might form. So, did that mean he had somehow infiltrated the top heroes? Why, for what reason?

This was all getting a little much and after a while his head had hurt, thus bringing his wonderings to a stop.

Except he couldn't because apparently, he hated himself.

Why hadn't Dark Shadow noticed him? Why hadn't Nemesis, for that matter? He had even asked his inner monster how they hadn't seen it the moment they'd met him, and Nemesis's own reply had been surprising.

"We saw nothing within them that was unusual," It had whispered as Izuku had written notes into his phone on the train to school, just as Danger Noodle had slithered slowly under the seats across from him, keeping several beady, all-black eyes on him as it did so, "But Dark Shadow has mentioned it is possible to cloak a soul from others, like that so-called Ender of Days. Perhaps the Bastard has done so? It would make sense if they are hiding in plain sight."

The Bastard. That was the nickname Nemesis had quickly chosen for Lucifer, or rather it had adopted it at least after hearing Inko scream it at the top of her lungs. Izuku would never admit it out loud, not even to himself, but he was glad that Nemesis hadn't immediately decided that this was a good thing. It seemed to hate Lucifer with as much hate as it could, which was a lot of hate, and Izuku found at least they had that in common now.

Or maybe it was just responding to his own feelings.

Or maybe it was something else. Izuku no longer knew just what Nemesis was, not that he knew before of course, but at least before he had believed it to be some manner of demonic quirk, something other and separate from himself.

But now… was it some kind of newborn Fallen living inside him? Was it the real Izuku while he was just some… human offshoot? Nemesis, when asked, simply had no idea, though it wouldn't admit that so easily and masked its lack of knowing with its usual, "We are Izuku Midoriya, we are Nemesis, we are Shadow and Flame," line.

Translated into normal person talk, that basically meant 'we have no friggin' clue stop asking us'.

Izuku groaned, lowered his phone, and put his head against a cool railing pole beside him, letting the chill soothe his growing headache. He could feel the metal tink up against his horns and he found himself frowning.

This was just… this was his life. His life was a train wreck from Hell, literally, and now not only was it on fire and people were running around screaming but the designer of the train was the devil and had probably deliberately designed the train to-

Another stab of pain.

Another low growl of irritation from the boy.

He wished he could turn his brain off. He wished he could live someone else's life. He wished he was just a normal kid who went to school and had friends and played video games or whatever.

But wishing didn't make anything come true, though apparently making deals with the devil did.

Too bad he couldn't make deals with himself.

He looked back to his phone and frowned to himself, then he repeated a simple action that he had done several times over the weekend. He opened up his messages and looked to a screen that was completely empty of texts. The number above was a new one, one that Inko had given to him.

The contact was simply listed as 'Lucifer'.

A nervous terror whispered through him, as well as bitter anger from his own curse. His heart twisted and curled at the thought that with just one text he could have every question answered, or at least a lot of them. With one text he could be in direct contact with his father, the King of Hell himself.

Weird to think of the most terrible of the Fallen apparently had a mobile phone and was reportedly rather fond of it. Izuku had to admit he had seen it on the man every time they'd met.

His eyes lingered on the screen for a moment longer before he exited out, making sure to carefully bring up his friend chat again before closing the app. A little over-cautious, sure, but the last thing he wanted was to send a wayward text to Lucifer and start their conversations off on the wrong foot.

That's if he even wanted to talk to him, of course.

The train came to a slow but screeching halt and Izuku hauled himself to his feet as a voice bing-bonged across the tinny speaker system to announced that they were indeed where they were supposed to be.

Izuku wanted to let the whole thing slide, at least for one day. But he knew he wouldn't. For the rest of the week and beyond, until he finally took that dreadful dive and messaged his unholy, absent father, he would forever be thinking about that empty message screen. It would eat at his heart like a worm through an apple until his entire insides were hollowed out and he was consumed by his anxiety.

As he made his way out of the stadium, along with the hustle and bustle of other students and passengers, he couldn't help but think on an old maxim he had repeated a thousand times in his head.

God really did hate him.


"Today we're going to having a special class, in preparation for your upcoming internships, the results of which the school will be announcing on Friday," Aizawa's tone droned across the classroom and he even took a moment to pause and put some eye drops into his extremely tired-looking eyes.

His bandages were finally off and the class had let out a none-too silent gasp at the large scar that now stretched from forehead to cheek over his right eye. It was amazing that he hadn't gone blind, though Izuku could easily guess that it had damaged his quirk usage.

Something that Nemesis had been more than happy to see, being that it lessened his ability to divide them again.

Another mystery that sat unsolved on the giant mystery pile that was his Hellborn power.

He forced himself to sit upright, however, as his teacher placed both his hands flat down upon his podium. "Take this class extremely seriously, it may well affect the rest of your careers as heroes, and therefore, the rest of your lives."

This caught his attention. He blinked and candle-flame ghosted through his blood. The others in the class also suddenly tensed and an air of quiet terror gripped them all.

Then, suddenly, much to the shock of everyone, the door burst open… and in walked Midnight, or rather, Kayama-sensei as she was insisting her class call her. She was dressed in her skimpy hero attire, whip and all, with the look of a woman who just walked out of something hot and heavy in a bedroom somewhere.

Izuku noted a few boys in the class drool at the sight, though while he couldn't see him without turning around, he could hear the slightly irritated groan of Hitoshi from behind him and that at least made him smirk just a little bit.

Of course, he also had to suppress a wolfish growl from Nemesis, who still held a grudge against the woman for ruling against them in the tournament. Izuku himself had to admit he felt his own ire rise at the sight of her, though he kept it well in check.

"He's right you know," Kayama-sensei announced with a smile as she came to lean against an annoyed-looking Aizawa-sensei, "What you're about to do could change the courses of your lovely little lives." She grinned widely and, in a tone that hid none of her excitement, announced, "Today we pick hero names!"

The cheer from the class practically deafened Izuku and yet he found himself not joining in in the slightest.

Kayama-sensei immediately moved about handing out small whiteboards with markers attached and began explaining that a hero's name was important for more than just the obvious. A good name portrayed everything that the prospective hero aspired to be. All Might, for example, exemplified his strength, his power, and his ability to be the hero that stood atop all others, strong and invulnerable.

She finished by explaining that her own name, Midnight, was to symbolize the effects of her sleeping quirk, as in to sleep at midnight, but also the naughty suggestiveness of what happened at midnight, which again made some of the class blush at the very idea.

Aizawa-sensei simply cut in with the suggestion to not let others pick your name for you, or you might end up with something dumb that'll stick to you forever. Kayama-sensei looked back to the rest of the class and, none-too-quietly, whispered out, "Present Mic chose his name."

This was met with a few barely suppressed giggles and a rolling of eyes from their homeroom teacher before he zipped up his sleeping bag and moved to nap behind his desk.

The class quickly got into the swing of things, with Tsuyu announcing that her name would be Froppy, the rainy season hero. This was met with some cheers, which led others to taking the stand. Next came Momo with Creati, then Kyoka with Earphone Jack, Denki with Chargebolt and Eijiro with Red Riot.

Ochaco chose Uravity, Tenya chose Ingenium, though he quickly explained that he knew he didn't quite yet deserve the title and that he intended to live up to his brother's and by extension his family's traditional name with time and effort.

Though not all were immediately accepted. Yuga's name went through several different iterations of how sparkly he was before finally landing on Can't Stop Twinkling, and Reiko's name went through several different variations, each being called 'too spooky' by Midnight before finally landing on Emily.

"I have decided to pick the name Tsukoyomi," Fumikage's voice brought Izuku back to the world of the living and he looked up.

He had been simply staring at his whiteboard with the pen in his hand for what seemed like almost thirty straight minutes now.

"My power is that of darkness, and as such, I shall use it to protect those caught in the darkness, just as the God of the Night watches over those in his shadowy realm."

"Tsukoyomi..." Kayama-sensei put a hand to her chin, "A little dark, but for your image, I think it works great!" She gave him a thumbs-up, "I approve!"

Fumikage nodded respectfully to her, "Thank you, Kayama-sensei."

He turned and walked back down the aisle, giving Izuku a small smile as he passed him. Izuku couldn't help but think on how his friends, other than Hitoshi, had no idea just who they were smiling at, and what they would do if they knew.

Sticking with someone who was possessed against their will was one thing, but he was something inhuman. Something that didn't belong on the earth. They had accepted everything so far, but this was… this was so much to take in. The child of the devil. By all rights, he was the enemy they were training to fight.

He looked again back to his whiteboard as Hitoshi got up and began making his way to the front of the class.

Hitoshi looked thoughtful, and for a moment, the other gigantic news of the weekend suddenly knocked on his mental door then threw itself through his mental window. Hitoshi wasn't just an aspiring hero anymore, he was the successor. He was All Might's chosen, the one who would carry the image of the Symbol of Peace into the next generation.

For a moment, Izuku's own anxieties were pushed aside as he waited to see what kind of name Hitoshi would choose.

The teenager flipped up his whiteboard, and written on it was… well, Izuku had no idea what it was. Whatever it was, it wasn't in any language that he knew, but he could quickly take a guess.

"What… is that?" Kayama-sensei braved with a slightly confused smile.

"It's Arabic," Hitoshi quickly announced, "It's pronounced Altashjie."

Izuku mouthed the word to himself, as did several of his classmates, each trying to get it right.

"Well that's great, a call back to your parental origins, I'm guessing?" Kayama-sensei mused with a hand to her chin.

"My grandmother, actually. She suggested it."

"What does it mean?"

At this the teenager paused for a moment, then motioned as if he was trying to find the right term, "It depends on how it's used, but generally, it means to encourage, or encouragement. But it can also mean to spur on, to shout, you know, to inspire hope." Hitoshi looked back to the class as he continued, "That's the kind of hero I want to be. I want to make people know that it's okay, that they can be heroes too, that nothing is impossible, that no matter what, there's hope."

This was quickly met with a sudden cheer from the class with several, encouraging shouts of their own.

"Altashjie," the teacher nodded slowly, "The hopeful hero?"

"The encouragement hero," Hitoshi shrugged, "So is it a pass?"

"Well, I think you should probably write it in Japanese, just to be on the safe side, but I like it. It has a lot of meaning and depth, and you've clearly put some thought into it."

"My grandma put thought into it," Hitoshi grinned that tried grin of his as he moved from the podium, "But I'll let her know it went down well."

Hitoshi walked back towards his seat, and Izuku gave him a small smile and a thumbs-up as he passed. And he meant it too. Hitoshi had picked a great name, and now… now there was only himself and Shoto left.

Shoto got up before Izuku could, not that he even tried, and walked stoically to the front of the class. Whatever sense of joy and energy had been created by Hitoshi's name was quickly sucked right out the room when Shoto simply held up his whiteboard with his own name written on it.

"You're choosing your own name?" Kayama-sensei frowned at the boy, "You could choose your father's, you know. Or something more fitting to-"

"This is fine," Shoto swiftly cut in. It wasn't harshly said, but the intent was clear. Hitoshi hadn't told them about what exactly Shoto had said, wishing to keep the details between the two of them, but it was clear that it had something to do with his family.

He didn't want to take his father's name, and Izuku could only guess as to why, after all, it wasn't like Izuku was all too eager to take his father's title either.

"Alright, if you change your mind you can change it later, just remember that once you're established and making a name for yourself, any name changes could harm your career."

Shoto didn't reply, he simply nodded, then turned and walked back to his seat.

Izuku watched him go, then looked back to his own board, sighed, and began to write.

"Our chosen title should be something glorious, like World Eater, or Doom Slayer, or-"

"Izuku Midoriya? Are you ready? You're the last one," Kayama-sensei called not soon after.

Izuku nodded, stood up, and nervously made his way to the front of the class, ignoring the looks of the others as best he could, as well as the flair of fire that whispered at his scars. His tail twitched behind him, and he wished internally he had enough control over it to make it wrap around his middle.

"I'm… I'm choosing this," Izuku announced, and flipped his whiteboard.

There was a second of silence before Kayama-sensei sighed, "Another one, hm?"

Written on the whiteboard was his name. Simple, clear, unexciting.

"You're going with your own name?" Kirishima asked loudly, "Why, dude? With a quirk like yours, you could have gone with, like, Devil-Man!"

"Or Monster Lord!"

"Or Demon-"

"NO!" The spike that rushed through Izuku was fire hot and angry, and the light above him flickered, causing an instant silence to hush across the class.

He breathed deep, knowing that he had just reinforced several opinions the class held of him. The troubled child, the classroom runt, the villain in training.

"I'm not a demon, and I don't- I don't want people to think that about me," Izuku practically mumbled, "And I'm a long way from being any kind of hero, so for now, I'll just try and be me."

Kayama-sensei sighed and shook her head, clearly disappointed "Well, you always have time to change it before you get your license. Back to your seat."

As he did as he was told, he could feel the slightly accusing, slightly worried, slightly dismissive looks of his classmates upon him. Yet just before he reached his seat, he made eye contact with Hitoshi. The purple-haired teen merely shrugged and mouthed 'don't worry about it.'

Izuku nodded, and with a heart that felt empty, he took his seat.


She hadn't spoken a word to him in four days.

Katsuki glared at the woman as she sat at her desk, hands folded calmly before her with her eyes, serene as always, looking to the front of the class.

Kan-sensei was explaining the process of applications to the class, though Katsuki was barely listening. Something about having three suggested places for application, with some students getting picked directly by agencies for their performances in the tournament. Nothing he couldn't half-listen to either way.

"Hey, man!" He was suddenly nudged in the back and right out of his musings when Tetsutestu, aka Metal Head, poked him in the back. Katsuki turned to snap at the boy but paused when Metal Head pointed up to the touch-board behind their teacher, "Look how many picks you got!"

Katsuki turned his eyes back to the front of the class and couldn't stop a jolt of pride running through him at the sight of his name standing only second to Ibara herself for the class picks. He'd received over three thousand draft picks, while Ibara had received over four thousand.

The list continued to go down in a slow decline, with Big Hands receiving a thousand, then Drill Boy receiving over seven hundred, then Fat Boy receiving four hundred and so on until the list ended with Copy-Cat receiving two.

"You've all done well, especially you, Ibara," Vlad King, aka Kan-sensei, looked to the girl who sat, almost motionless, in the center of the class. A smile appeared on his usually stern face, "You fought the very best Class One-A had to offer and put them in their place. You should know I'm proud of you."

Ibara smiled slightly and nodded, "Thank you, Kan-sensei."

It was a fake. It was all a fake. The nod, the smile, the look of serene, calmness to her features. Katsuki could read it all like a book and he knew she was faking it.

The class knew about Ibara's homelife. They knew that it had been her family who had been targeted, and many were shocked to see her come back after the weekend. There had been the usual and expected flurry of questions over her, over the killing of the church head, over if she was even allowed to come back, after all, it wasn't as though they'd caught the killer.

And he was still killing.

Another five murders had been linked to him over the weekend, all of them pro-heroes. They'd even given him a name, after the words painted in blood over the body of one of his victims. Chizome Akaguro, the Heretic Killer.

So surely the young girl would want to stay with those she loved, taking care of the survivors of the attack and doing all she could to help the police, right?

Yet Ibara had told them all in her usual, articulate tone that God intended her to be here, and that similarly, justice would be delivered by His hand. She had no worries and would rather just get back to the job of becoming a hero and making sure her Ecclesiarch was proud of her from heaven.

Katsuki could see that for the bullshit it was the second she'd spoken it. He could see the quiet, calcified fury in her eyes. The anger that toyed at the edge of every action she performed, the hate that seemed to bead along her arms and forehead like sweat from the effort of not lashing out and hurting someone, anyone, anything.

And what was worse, was that she hadn't spoken a single word to him. He had tried to talk to her first thing in the morning, but she had brushed him off. Again, and again throughout the day, he had tried to contact her

They were supposed to be allies in a secret war, a war to which he thought she was going to show him how to win. They were going to fight the true darkness together, maybe not hand in hand, but together at least.

Now he could see something had broken inside her, it was obvious, even if she had everyone else fooled.

Kan-sensei turned his gaze back up again. "For those who didn't get picked, don't worry. We'll be handing out lists of agencies that take on interns no matter what, and you can have your pick of them. Remember to pick carefully, think of what you want to achieve in your hero career and make sure to choose accordingly. One agency is never like another, so if you're thinking of going into a specialization, make sure to pick one that should maximize your continued education." He huffed and folded his thick arms across his thick chest and added in his thick accent, "Don't any of you dare think this is some kind of week-long holiday, you'll be working your tails off and I expect a two page essay from each of you on the lessons and merits you learned when you're done, do I make myself clear?"

There was a chorus of 'yes Sir's' from the class, with Katsuki adding his own grumbling tone to the agreement.

"Here, take one and hand it back," He continued on, handing a piece of paper to My Little Pony at the front of the class, who dutifully looked to it, then seemed to think on it before nodding and handing it back.

She grinned when it was taken, obviously overjoyed that she had gotten the internal translation correct.

Once the sheets had been passed out class was dismissed with a final order to hand in their picks by tomorrow. It wouldn't be until the end of the week when the results would come back and then they would start their internships the following Monday.

Katsuki had barely had time to think of where he wanted to go or who he wanted to intern under. Endeavor maybe? He had a powerful fire quirk, maybe there was something to be learned there. Or Mount Lady? She was a newer hero, but reportedly had worked her way from the ground up. That kind of tenacity could lead somewhere, though no doubt that creep Grape-Perv would write her down.

He looked to his paper, growled, then looked up.

And for a second, he met Ibara's gaze.

Something passed between them, a determined sort of anger that neither would actually put into words.

And then, suddenly, she was up and off, scooping her backpack onto her shoulders and striding towards the door.

Even as Metal Head tried to engage him in conversation Katsuki was on his feet, grabbing his own bag and striding after her. It was almost funny to watch, two people, one determined to talk to the other and one determined not to talk, both trying to get out of the classroom without causing a scene and without looking suspicious.

But Katsuki was not about to quit. He would get his answers, he would get his conversation damnit.

And yet, he wasn't the first one to stop her.

Just as she reached the doorway, Copy-Cat stepped before her.

Copy-Cat looked like crap fried up and served with a side helping of awful. His skin was pale, his eyes ringed with sleeplessness and his hair, usually so carefully combed, was listless. Yet that ever-present smile was plastered onto his face, a look so well trained and well-worn that Katsuki couldn't tell if it was just something he did naturally, or if he actually meant it.

Either way it felt fake, like a lot of the things Copy-Cat either did or claimed.

"Heeey, Ibara!" His voice held a humor that was about one slight breeze away from shattering. He ran a hand through his hair as he came to stand completely in the doorway, his eyes only flickering to Katsuki for just a second as he came to stand behind the girl. "Can we talk? For a moment? Real quick?"

"I'm sorry, Neito, I have to go," Ibara quickly insisted, plastering a clam look to her face even as Katsuki noted the ends of her vine-hair twitching, "I'm very busy, as you might expect."

"I know! I know, but, erm, I just, I wanted to-"

"Dickhead!" Katsuki barked, almost drawing the attention of some of the others in the class, thankfully however the chatter was too loud to be drowned out by such a command, "Leave her the fuck alone!"

"Katsuki," Ibara turned her head to him, and for a second the mask slipped. The cold, calm, robot Ibara cracked like fine china and, peeking out underneath like a trapped animal was a girl who was nothing but emotions. Nothing but screaming pain and anger and mourning sorrow. "I don't need you to defend me."

Katsuki didn't reply. He wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight with her right here in the classroom. He was a hot-headed, loud asshole, but this was Ibara. This was his ally, his not-friend who he knew better than anyone else in Class One-B.

He wanted to help, and yet he could see in her eyes she would reject everything he had to offer.

She turned back to Copy-Cat and sighed, "Neito, I would love to help you, but I must be going."

"But-"

She held up her hands, clasping them together, "I urge you to pray to Almighty God for answers, for only He can guide us in our most trying times."

Katsuki felt a cold chill run down his spine. Not at her words, as she had often said similar things before, but at the tone of her words. There was something… missing. Something was wrong. Something was gone from her usual reverence.

And Katsuki really, really hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

Neito seemed to pause for a moment, as if considering her words, before nodding and stepping aside, "S-Sure, I'll do that."

Ibara shot the teenager a smile that clearly meant nothing before storming forwards. This time at least she made no effort to stop Katsuki from following her, and as such, they soon ended up outside the classroom together.

A few students were already leaving, passing by the two as they stood against the railing, the sun shining through and casting long shadows through the building. Katsuki squinted a little as the light fell onto him, though Ibara was caught in the shadow of a window support beam.

"What is it, Katsuki?" She practically snapped at him, which was something Katsuki was not used to hearing.

Still, he kept his ground and shoved his hands into his pockets, "Why aren't you fucking talking to me?"

There was a moment of silence or relative silence at least. The constant level of light traffic through the corridor was enough to stop the question from becoming heavy and awkward.

"I've been busy."

"Yeah, I get that, but that doesn't mean you can shut everyone the fuck out," Katsuki snapped back.

"Why not?" Her question hit Katsuki more than he had expected and her following statement did just as much damage, "It's not like we're friends."

It's not like we're friends. The words curled inside Katsuki's head like a viper biting into his brain and filling his thoughts with venom. Of course, he immediately began defaulting back onto his go-too emotion, anger. His shoulders hunched and he fought to keep his curling fists within his pockets.

"We're supposed to be fucking working together! And- fuck- Ibara- with everything that happened I just- I thought you'd want to at least fucking talk about it!"

"Why?" She asked again, cocking her head and frowning at him as her arms folded over her chest, though she kept her stance straight and steady. Her eyes glinted dangerously as if tempting him to keep his anger up, to let it explode out of him like it always ended up doing. It wasn't like she could take it. It wasn't like she could utterly disable him and break his arm against the side rail and feel nothing from it.

They both knew it, even if Katsuki refused to believe it was true.

"When we agreed to work together, that was simply to show you how to stop the monsters from hell from ruining this world. I agreed to help you eventually defeat and destroy the demon Nemesis before it could infect the rest of this school with its black heresies." She seemed to shift, straightening her shoulders as if it were a cover for something else, "It's a working relationship, Katsuki. We're not friends, we don't stay over at each other's houses or paint each other's nails. We don't talk outside of school."

"We did," Katsuki snarled back, trying desperately to keep the hurt from drilling through the flesh of his heart. Goddamnit, god-fucking-damnit. This was unfair. This was unfair to both of them, and he knew why she was doing it. She was doing it for the same reason he had kept all his bullshit inside him after the events of the training with Izuku, when he had shown his true self and helped make several scars that still raked across his features.

It was because she was hurting. She was hurting so much that she couldn't acknowledge it, or it would swamp and drown her.

But she had reached out to him and he had taken her hand.

And now… now she was rejecting the same offer from him.

"And that was a mistake," Ibara's eyes glanced away to the window, and he knew she was lying, even as she found the ability to look back to him once again as she added, "I told you too much and now God is punishing me."

"Shut the fuck up!" Katsuki barked, his voice echoing down the now empty corridor. It was odd, the world seemed to have slowly emptied until only the two of them remained. Alone and isolated in their shared secrets. "God isn't fucking punishing you! This is just-"

"Don't you dare tell me what God is or is not doing to me!" Her anger was like a lightning bolt, so swift and sudden that it cut through the air like a sword, ruining any defense, and struck right at his heart. Before he had even breathed she had closed the distance between them and her hair had flared around her, surrounding Katsuki utterly.

Another second more and it would have seized every limb and the slight touch at the back of his neck told him one would have choked the life out of him. One of her hands was clenched into a tight fist, the other pointing squarely towards him.

"I am the true believer, I am the one who sees the monsters born from the sins of the cruel and evil every day of my life. I am the one who had spent their life within the Church, learning how to be a Knight, dedicating their entire existence to the singular goal of keeping this world safe so people like you can go play at being a hero."

Her words were so heavy with the weight of her anger and pain that they almost choked Katsuki like the vine threatening his neck. Her eyes glowed with a terrible fire that was threatening to eat her from the inside out.

And Katsuki felt helpless. His fingers twitched and tiny explosions popped on his palm. He was fighting with everything he had not to lash out. Not at her, but at anything else around him. His anger was so thick it was threatening to blanket his brain and flood his heart and force his own actions from him.

"These are crimes committed by my brother and I will deal with them personally," Her voice was shaking, yet her body remained still and that alone spoke leagues of her self-control, "Talk to me when you have more information on Nemesis and his acolytes. Until then, do not assume we are anything but two very separate people working for a common goal, Katsuki Bakugo."

And at that, she turned, her vines hurrying back to her sides and once again falling limp, becoming a cascade of hair that fell almost to her knees.

She stormed away.

And Katsuki let her.

He would later hate himself for allowing it. For not rising above his own petty anger and chasing after her, for not insisting they were more than just acquaintances and actually trying to do something to help her with the pain she was feeling.

But for all his sins he simply growled, turned, and began storming away, thinking nothing but the darkest of thoughts about the young woman he had assumed was something close to being his first real friend.

No, he had already learned that lesson long ago and he was stupid for forgetting it. All that mattered was himself, and what he felt, fuck everyone else and their opinions. He would use Ibara when he needed to defeat Nemesis and save the world from that terrible, hellborn threat. Until then he would work alone, train alone, and be alone.

And yet despite the assurances he told himself, his heart still ached as if deeply wounded, as he thought of Ibara walking away down the corridor, the shadows passing over her until she was swallowed by them as she went into the interior of the school.

Ibara. Hurt. Alone. Angry.

Just like he had once been.


SO I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. "Damn that Sideos, making us wait even MORE for the hero name while piling on angst?" Yes. For now, yes. Because just like many things now Izuku knows who his dad is, his hero name isn't something he's going to pick out of mid-air. It will carry the appropriate weight and power that his bloodline will demand of him.

Plus when he gets it, it's a super cool scene. In fact, there are a number of super cool scenes coming up. The cool factor will start to ramp up. Either way, we're now officially only 3 chapters away from Izuku officially getting his shit together. 3 Chapters my dudes. Hopefully, you can all hold on that long.

As for Ibara, well, gotta drill her up to have her hunt down her brother, right? I hear Hosu is really nice this time of year...

Anyway, thank you all for reading and for being awesome, and I'll see you next update for some good old fashioned father-son bonding time. Peace!