SO, as usual, for any links to fanart go over to the AO3 page and click there.

Otherwise, let's GET TO DA CHAPTAHHH.

Enjoy peeps!


She had never done this before.

She had never willingly apologized to anyone who wasn't part of her church.

But after everything she had gone through over the weekend, with all the feelings of pain and suffering, of that strange redemption after God had saved her- no, not God.

Izuku Midoriya and Shoto Todoroki had saved her. One was a heretic who didn't believe in God. The other was… was something even worse.

And yet, she had let him live. She had walked away from the Son of the Adversary.

Why?

That was the question which had dogged her since she had left the hospital to recover at Manual's agency. Was it that he had claimed to be as the fabled Azrael the Unforgiven? The Archangel cursed to wander the earth until forgiven by their creator? Was he too seeking some kind of redemption?

He had saved her, after all. He could have easily let her die. He could have killed her himself and pointed the finger at her accursed brother.

But he'd saved her. And the question was digging into her soul.

As were a lot of questions.

Her brother had become a fanatic, her family was shattered, and everything she had believed in had been broken.

She hadn't prayed since that night. She'd wanted to. She'd gotten to her knees the first chance she got but… the prayer wouldn't come. The words locked within her heart refusing to move. She had stayed for almost an hour, hands locked, head down, but her eyes wide open, her lips still.

How could she thank God for anything that had happened that night? Would she thank him for ruining her home? Her life? For driving her own brother to madness? For killing the Ecclesiarch? How could she thank Him for sending the Son of Lucifer to her aid, and a heretic who didn't even believe in Him?

It took her most of the second night, the one she spent in the agency, her wounds aching as she lay on her bunk, staring up at the ceiling, to realize something.

She didn't want to thank God. She didn't want to even talk to God.

She was angry with Him.

And that one revelation had changed everything. She had gone back to the Chantry over the weekend, and while her heart had filled with joy to see Prioress Shizuka out of the hospital at last, though she was in a wheelchair and would be for the rest of her life, she still could not bring herself to utter words of thanks at their evening mass, or at dinner, or before bed.

She was a Neophyte Templar… who refused to pray.

By the time Monday rolled around she realized, however, that there was at least one thing she could do right.

She could finally, finally, talk to Katsuki. Her spiritual life was falling to pieces, but her physical life, in the here and now, could be repaired. Or at least, she hoped it could be repaired.

Ibara wasn't sure what she would do if she couldn't reconnect with one person who had ever given her true attention without it being followed by a command. Or at least, not a command she had to obey.

But she was almost at her limit of what she was willing to take. She needed someone on her side, someone who… who would understand. Prioress Shizuka was kind and caring but she was a Templar. She was within the church, and right now Ibara just… she couldn't handle that. She couldn't talk to someone within the church.

She had to go outside. She had to find some other outlet for her thoughts, her feelings, her pent up, insane emotions.

She had to take a chance on a nonbeliever.

She had to take a chance on Katsuki.

They had been in class together, of course, but each had pretty much ignored the other. Besides, they had to show what they'd learned and had been placed in different workgroups. Instead, Ibara found him after school, the same place she had found him originally. In the school gym, smashing his fists against sandbags which looked as though they wanted to talk to their manager and lodge a complaint.

The air stank of sweat and musk, underlined by the scent of talc. Katsuki looked just as he did before leaving, and that was no surprise. He had interned with Best Jeanist, though in her willful ignorance, Ibara hadn't once texted him that entire week and had no idea how it'd gone.

She was too busy letting hate cloud her thoughts to think about her only friend-who-was-not-a-friend.

Ibara made no secret she was there, walking up to him slowly, her schoolbag weighing on her shoulders and her hands clasped together. Despite all her training, she had never really been taught what to do when she felt awkward, and this was indeed awkward.

Katsuki glanced at her as she approached, then went right back to hitting the sandbag. Actually, Ibara noticed he hit it a bit harder than he had done before. Well, that was a good sign.

A minute passed. A minute where she watched every muscle in Katsuki's arms, as he was wearing only a loose tank top, stretch and move and flex and strain. She watched as he breathed and panted, as his eyes, the color of angry blood, focused on his task. Even with those razor-thin scars across his face, he was still handsome. Perhaps, at least for Ibara, they even added to his handsomeness.

They gave him a dangerous, warrior-edge, one that she could very surely appreciate.

Watching him was almost hypnotic, and some dirty, sinful little part of her brain said I could do this all day.

"What?"

The question snapped her out of her focus and her hair curled at the tips.

When she didn't immediately answer, Katsuki grabbed the sandbag, steadying it as he panted and turned to her fully, a look of cool, indifferent anger on his face, "What the fuck do you want?"

"I-" She started but couldn't continue. Her mouth stammered closed and she looked down, away, anywhere but at him.

Dammit, she was a warrior of God, she should be able to… no, she was no warrior of God. Not when she couldn't bring herself to forgive Him.

"… I'm here to… apologize," The words tumbled, ugly and malformed, from her lips, "For my actions. Before the internships. I-"

"Apologize?" What little steam she had been picking up quickly faded in the face of Katsuki's bitterness. "Fucking apologize?" He took a step forward and on natural instinct her hair came up in defense.

Yet she knew she wouldn't stop him if he attacked her.

He didn't though. Sparks flew from his hands and quickly traveled up his arms, causing him to appear wreathed in explosions before the smoke quickly faded. He looked like some kind of angry blonde dragon, even with his tank top clinging to his chest.

Ibara forced herself to calm her breathing.

"I turned you away, when I should have listened to you," She began again, trying to force her feelings out. Yet why did her words sound so hollow, even to her? "And I've come to-"

"Whatever," Katsuki spat before pushing past her.

Ibara was stunned. He was rejecting her apology? How dare he! She turned and quickly stormed after him, "Katsuki! Please, listen to me! I'm-"

"You haven't spoken to me in fucking weeks!" The blonde paused, turned, and looked to her with his eyes blazing, "WEEKS, IBARA!" His shout echoed around the gym, and the sound of several other students exercising suddenly lowered dramatically. She could feel the eyes of the others on her and she paled.

Attention didn't bother her, not really, but she had never dealt with this kind of emotionally private stuff before. She wasn't sure what the right response even was, and as such, she felt lost.

"… calm your voice, please." Ibara again forced herself to breathe and looked to Katsuki, "Can we just… talk. Outside?"

Katsuki looked at her for a long moment before finally growling and nodding. He turned, storming through the gym, clearly ignoring the whispers of the other students as they headed to the large double-doored exit.

He pushed them open and a moment later they were alone in the corridor.

The air was cooler and the rays of the setting sun were piecing the windows. It reminded her so much, too much, of the last time they talked. Katsuki turned from her and took a few paces towards the window where he ran a hand through his sweaty hair. The light hit him, casting him in its golden glow.

"I'm sorry," Ibara offered again, yet again, she didn't believe her own words.

"Fucking… You can't just come walking up to me and say you're sorry for what you fucking did," Katsuki suddenly spat out, turning to glare at her. "You threatened me when I tried to fucking help, and you didn't speak to me for a week. A WEEK, Ibara! Do you know how that made me feel? Do you?"

She kept her eyes down and shook her head.

"LIKE FUCKING SHIT! Goddamnit, I thought we were fucking… close or something, I dunno! But you just shut me the fuck out! Like I didn't even fucking matter to you!"

"I did," Ibara agreed with a quiet nod, "Because… because I was acting foolish."

"Fucking foolish, you were acting like a fucking asshole. Did you see the fucking news? Your stupid, insane brother got caught by Endeavor." He leaned against the window, folding his arms over his chest. "So good fucking job on your fucking vengeance mission."

Ibara paused, holding her tongue for a moment as she looked to the floor. "… I was there." She knew she wasn't supposed to talk about it, but with Katsuki… "I was there when it all… and it didn't… I can't talk about it properly but-"

"Wait, did you actually fucking fight him?" Katsuki pushed himself from the wall, his eyes growing wide, "What the fuck?! You used your-" He paused, looking around before lowering his voice, "You used your fucking quirk outside school? Without a license?"

"I- I can't tell you the details. I was sworn to secrecy," Ibara almost whispered, still not looking to Katsuki, "But… I was there. So was Izuku and Shoto Todoroki. We were all in Hosu-"

Katsuki suddenly cut in, "The fucking demon was there?"

"Yes. And he saved my life."

The pause returned, though this time it was heavier, colder. It settled across them both like frost before Katsuki shook his head, "No, impossible."

"It's the truth."

"It's fucking impossible!" He snapped, his voice like a gunshot in the hallway, "They don't save lives! You told me that!"

"I did."

"So, what the fuck-"

"Izuku is something different," Ibara finally looked up, her own stained-glass green gaze locking to the angry rogue of Katsuki's, "We talked and- and I believe he's something… more. I can't talk about it here but-"

"So, what, you just expect me to fucking forgive the bastard?" Katsuki snapped, a mixture of old rage and suppressed fear entering his voice.

Ibara, however, was quick to diffuse it, "Absolutely not. He's still of Hell, and I still don't trust him, all I'm saying is we may need to…" She looked away, searching for the right words, "Reevaluate the enemy. It may be that our role in this is not as clear as I first thought."

"Yeah, you've not exactly been making the best fucking calls lately."

The air became tense once again and Ibara felt a guitar string of guilt twang in her heart.

"I'm so, so sorry, Katsuki," She began again, or perhaps, began truly for the first time. Tears lined her eyes as she spoke, and her voice, for the first time since she was a child, quivered, "I was so lost. So angry. All I wanted was revenge and all I could see was red and black and… and then Hosu happened and, it was Hell on earth. My brother and then- and then Izuku and Shoto and…" Her hands locked together so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her hair curled around her and twisted together, "They saved me. The monster and the heretic saved me. And now I don't… I just don't know anymore."

Katsuki breathed deeply before her, still cast in the golden light and while she knew he had every reason to walk away, every reason to turn his back on her as she had done on him…

"You wanna earn your forgiveness?"

"W-"

"Then start fucking earning it. First thing's first, you don't just not talk to me anymore. You got a problem? Something is pissing you off? You actually tell me about it. Second," Katsuki began counting them off on his fingers, "You start thinking for your fucking self instead of acting like a fucking robot all the time. I'm sick of that goddamn emotionless perfect student routine. Thirdly-" He paused, frowned, then quickly added, "I dunno what but I'm gonna fucking think of one."

Ibara couldn't help it, she laughed. It was the first time she had laughed, truly laughed, in God knew how long. But it felt… freeing. It felt good. She stepped forward, out of the shadow, and into the light. It felt warm on her skin and seemed to fill her as though she hadn't been warm in a long, long time. She wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling as though she was taking the chains from her wrists.

"Alright, Katsuki," She gave him a smile. A real smile, "I'll try."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Was that a blush on his face? "Now, unless you wanna spar, you can-"

"Heeeeeeeey, guys!" The new voice joined the corridor, though one that was not unfamiliar to the two of them. Both turned suddenly to see someone, a student, a classmate, jogging towards them.

Someone who looked like they hadn't slept in a week and had been beaten over the head several times with some kind of heavy object.

Neito Monoma slowed to a stop before them and, between the two students, they quickly took in his utterly disheveled form. His shirt was unbuttoned in places and wrongly buttoned in others. One of his shoes was untied. His hair was a mess, his skin was milk-bottle pale, bordering on sickly, and his eyes were practically bruised purple and bloodshot with exhaustion.

"H-Hey, hi," He breathed out as he twitched and fidgeted with his fingers, his gaze darting left and right, "I-Ibara, I really gotta, I mean- I gotta talk to you."

For the first time Ibara really noticed just how much of a slide Neito had taken since the sports festival. She had been so wrapped up in her whole vengeance thing that she hadn't even bothered to think about what had happened to her classmate. Neito's very soul had come into contact with a demon.

He had been touched by shadow and darkness and she had done nothing to aid him.

Ibara frowned, though not at Neito but at herself. She should have noticed this. This was a soul in pain, very obvious, very deep pain. She was supposed to be a warrior of God's army, fighting the darkness, and yet here was just another victim of her own selfish anger.

"Of course, Neito, I'm… I'm sorry, I was… not myself, before." She breathed deep and steadied herself, "How can I help you?"

Neito's eyes darted to a still frowning, though he was really always frowning, Katsuki and back again. "C-Can we talk in p-private?"

"Is it about monsters?"

"Katsuki!"

"I- how?" Neito frowned in confusion before twitching again, "How did you-"

"It's okay," Ibara sighed softly looked to Katsuki, "If you will, go get changed, we'll wait for you. I think we have a lot to tell Neito."


Tomura was not in the mood for this.

For the last few days all he'd heard about, on repeat, was coverage about that fucking Heretic Killer. The objective for the attack on Hosu was not to glorify some great struggle against a regime that repressed villains and outsiders but to showcase the truth. That monsters existed, that demons existed, that Hell awaited behind an ever-thinning veil between this world and the next.

But no.

That damn Heretic Killer had taken the shine off everything. It was all on him like he was even a member of their church.

The false worship that he was garnering, the misguided attention now being leveled at the Heralds of Evesoris felt… bitter on Tomura's tongue.

And yet.

And yet Father Satani seemed overjoyed. Within only a few days of the word getting out that the Heralds had been involved in the Battle of Hosu, that it was their hand on the pawn that was the Heretic Killer, others had begun flocking to their banner. The lost, the alone, the abandoned. All looking for a place to belong, for something new to believe in, for a new war to throw themselves into.

Though not all had passed Kagero's examinations. Most had wanted to join them because of some monetary gain, or just for a chance to kill whatever perceived enemy existed in their petty minds. They were the types that Tomura had originally recruited wholesale when he had attacked the USJ.

This time, however, their selection would be more focused. This time, they would only take on the truly faithful.

Or so Sensei had advised.

So now Tomura stood within the chapel, his body swallowed by the vast robes he always wore, his hood drew up over his head, hiding his face in shadow.

Beside him stood Father Satani, and beside him stood Kurogiri. To his far left, the laptop with its blank screen watched on, and behind them all was the inverted cross, upon which a new body had been nailed and disemboweled. This time it was a man, a strong-looking man, one who looked like he should be able to punch through a steel door.

But now he was dead and drained of his blood. Proof that no one could stand against Father Satani and live.

The Fallen Angel radiated that blasphemous, terrible energy he always seemed to radiate and as usual, his hood was pulled back, showing his utterly alien, flawless complexion and androgynous looks. His horns were newly adorned with golden chains and jewels that twinkled in the dim light of the blue flames that danced upon the sconces along the cold stone walls.

Together they were waiting for Kagero to arrive with their newest converts to their church. He had seemed rather excited at the prospect and seemed sure that this time, their new members would surely pass the trials and tests required to fully understand what was needed of them.

Tomura, however, was less convinced. The last three brought before them had died in the face of Father Satani's displeasure. One was in fact, nailed to the cross. That had been a pleasant death to witness. The man had thought Father's words were simply that, words.

Father Satani had disemboweled the man personally.

The door to the chapel suddenly creaked open, and the sound bounced off the stone walls with a creeping finality, like the sound of a blade dropping on a neck. Kagero emerged and to Tomura's great irritation he was not dressed in his robes like he should be. Instead, he was wearing those stupid grey and black striped pants, that stupid white shirt and that stupid purple jacket over it. The man had his usual sneering smirk on his lips, and he pushed his round glasses up his nose with a finger. At least he wasn't smoking this time.

Behind him followed two figures, two newly possible recruits to their church.

"Father!" Kagero announced as he walked down the center aisle row, passing rows of old wooden pews as he did so. His arms stretched wide before he finally came to the front of the chancel steps. He stopped, then fell into a deep bow, "It honors me to be in your unholy presence once again."

"As it should," Father announced with a voice that could carve diamonds from stone, "Though the last recruits you brought me did not do well." His terrible void-gold eyes narrowed, "I hope these new hopefuls to our flock shall fare better."

"My Father, believe me, these two are just what you have been searching for. They will be the perfect companions for the Ender of Days."

Tomura could see them more clearly now. The first was a lizard, or at least, whatever divine blessing had been bestowed upon his soul gave him such an appearance. His hair was a deep, possibly dyed purple and slicked back against the green-scaled skin of his head. He was a tall, tough but slim looking man in… was that a surcoat? Tomura almost balked with anger as he realized just what he was wearing. He was dressed like the fucking Heretic Killer.

He felt the itch rising at his throat, and he made no effort to hide it as he scratched at it angrily. He felt Kurogiri's tarnish-gold eyes look to him, but otherwise no one took notice.

Kagero straightened up and stood to one side, beckoning for the lizard-man to come forward into the more open light of the chancel. "Introduce yourself to your new Lords."

"They're not… whatever," The lizard-man grumbled as he indeed stepped forward. Tomura could see now that the outfit was not a true copy, rather, it seemed cobbled together from cheap material. His surcoat looked like it'd been hand-stitched, and under it was metal armor that he had clearly hammed together himself.

Well, he'd give the soon-to-be-dead lizard one thing, he was a rather dedicated cosplayer.

"My name is Shuichi Iguchi, but most call me Spinner. I saw all the stuff about Hosu on the news and I read all about the Heretic Killer. I- I think he's right. I think these heroes are false idols, and I intend to carry on his work in tearing them down. If he worked with you guys, well, then I want to join too. I'll do anything to carry on his legacy!"

There was a pause for a moment as the human, the Fallen Angel, and the demon seemed to size the man up.

"He's a loser," Tomura suddenly spat out, "Get him out of my face."

"Now, now, Tomura," Father Satani flashed that wonderful, heroin-like smile at the blue-haired man, "Give him a chance. He seems earnest enough, and besides," He looked back to the lizard, who, despite his green-scaled skin, seemed to pale under the gaze of this strange, beautiful, terrifying creature before him, "He wants to kill heroes. Do you wish to kill heroes, Shuichi?"

Shuichi's breath seemed caught in his throat for a moment before he stammered out, "I-I- I do."

"Good," Father Satani spread all four of his arms, "The world to come will have no heroes, no villains, only ash and blood and fire. That is our goal. The Ending of all things. You will have all the time you wish you spill as much blood as you please."

Shuichi seemed to hesitate a little at this, before stiffly nodding. "Good. Yeah- good."

There was a sudden, girlish giggle that broke through the tense air. It did not break it, no, rather, if anything, it seemed to delight in the quiet torment the lizard-man was suffering under the gaze of the unholy being before him.

Collectively, the eyes of the three members of the Heralds turned to look upon the second newest hopeful brought before them, and before Kagero could even introduce them, they, no, she skipped forwards.

It was a girl. A schoolgirl by the looks of things. She was small though not petite, and her body was mostly hidden under the bagginess of her large, cream school jumper. She wore a nice blue skirt that came to her knees, and long white socks past that.

Her hair was a shining blonde of messy curls tied into a pair of buns, and her eyes a bright blue that seemed to sparkle with a sort of unhinged intensity that only one who had killed and enjoyed it could ever know. And yet she couldn't have been any older than fifteen, perhaps sixteen at most.

"Wooow, you're amazing!" Her eyes were fixed directly on Father Satani as the Fallen Angel turned his accursed gaze upon her, and it took Tomura a second to realize something.

She wasn't afraid.

The lizard had paled under that look, Kagero had immediately bent his knee, and Tomura knew even he struggled to maintain such eye contact.

But this girl, this schoolgirl.

She was staring right at him. Right at his Lord… without turning away.

"And you're so beautiful!" She continued suddenly, her hands coming up to clasp together, "Can I taste your blood?"

Tomura moved.

He stepped forward before he even realized he was stepping forward, his hand raising up and his fingers curling as rage took over, "How dare you demand my Father's blood you little-"

"Wait."

With just a word, Tomura stopped.

Father Satani glided past Tomura, slowly descending the chancel steps. The members of the Heralds collectively tensed, cold sweat on their necks and goosebumps on their skin. Even Spinner seemed to realize, suddenly, just how powerful and terrible this being of violent glory was and backed away a few steps, bumping into one of the pews as he did so.

But this girl, this foolish girl, stood her ground, grinning wider as the Fallen Angel approached her.

Soon, the white-gold robed being stood before the girl and eyes that had seen the War of Heaven looked over her. "What is your name, child?"

"I'm Himiko Toga!" She announced enthusiastically, "I saw Mr. Killer on TV, and I saw what he was doing, stabbing all those heroes and I just fell in love! I want to stab Mr. Killer, I want to be Mr. Killer! But now I've met you, I want to be you! You're- you're just-" words seemed to fail the surely already dead girl, "I have to know what your blood tastes like!"

"Father, let me kill her," Tomura asked, braving a step towards his Lord, "Please! Her insolence-"

"Tomura!" The Fallen Angel turned his head towards the young man, the chains laughing and tinkling as he did so, "I said, wait."

Tomura bowed his head instantly, the shame of even slightly displeasing his Father flooding every atom of his being. How could he have said something? Clearly his Father wished to kill this girl himself, of course, it only made sense. How stupid he was, how stupid.

Father Satani looked back to Himiko, "What is your divine blessing, my child?"

Tomura's eye twitched, his child?

"My blessing?"

The girl seemed to blink at this, before Kurogiri announced, "Your quirk."

Kagero grinned even wider.

"Oh!" Her manic smile returned, "When I drink the blood of someone else, I can become them! The more I drink, the longer it lasts! I like to drink the blood of the people I love, and I love a lot of people, and when they die, I find someone new to love!"

For a second, a weighty silence hung in the air as everyone in the room seemed to consider the options of this, though, apparently, none more than Father Satani himself. His eyes widened, widened, in pleasant surprise before a smile grew on his lips. A smile that had caused kingdoms to fall and men to slaughter their wives and children.

"Oh. Oh, by my Tyrant Father," He chuckled in disbelief and the hearts of everyone in the room seemed to skip a beat. He raised one of his hands to his forehead and looked away for a moment, "Oh, why do you sow the seeds of your own downfall?" He looked up suddenly, stretching his arms wide and he shouted, "Bastard Tyrant! Almighty Betrayer! You have delivered unto me such a gift, I aught to thank you if I did not hate you so!"

His terrible eyes turned to look back to the girl, who now seemed just a tad confused. Then he did something that caused jealousy to shoot through Tomura's spine like a spear thrown into his back.

He placed two of his hands gently on the girl's cheeks. She seemed to go weak at the knees, as if someone had injected heroin right into her brain, though somehow, perhaps only due to Satani himself, she remained standing. "You. You, Himiko Toga. You belong here."

"I- I belong here," She half-whispered out, unable to tear her eyes away from Father Satani.

"Welcome home, my child."

To this, she only smiled, her brain flooded with the pure, profane joy of Father Satani's touch.

"As for you," Finally the Fallen Angel removed his hands from her, turning to look at Shuichi and ignoring the way Himiko fell to the floor, barely propping herself up against one of the pews and breathing as if she had been drowning in the darkest ocean.

Yet there was a lazy, opium-addict smile on her face.

"Shuichi. You will have the honor you seek. Within our ranks, you will become a knight of blood, a true warrior. I see the hunger for glory and violence within your soul, it will be rewarded."

"I- I-" Shuichi seemed to grip the pew behind him tightly before nodding, "Y-yes," He paused for half a second, "My Father."

Satani smiled at this, then looked back to Tomura, "See! They're learning already, unlike the others."

Tomura said nothing. He would not admit it out loud, but the jealousy he felt over Father Satani's attention given to the girl was irritating. What about her was so great? So, she could become other people, so what? That meant nothing in the long run. And that lizard, he looked too scared to ever truly take a life.

"Kagero," Sensei's voice suddenly called out from the laptop, "You have have done well. I will see to it that you are given double your funding for this month, even though you have yet to bring in our most wayward member."

"Sensei! My Father!" Kagero's eyes widened, looking from the laptop to the Fallen Angel before he bowed again, "I shall turn all my contacts towards finding him. I believe he is still carrying out your will, even if he cut off all communication."

"He will be," Father Satani chuckled like crystal glass shattering, "If he wishes his soul repaired, he will be. Try looking in Kamakura, I believe that will be his next target."

Kagero bowed again, "I shall, thank you, my Father."

"Now," The Fallen Angel clasped all his hands together as Himiko weakly managed to climb back to her feet and Kagero walked towards the exit of the chapel, "We shall begin the initiation tests, though I'm sure you'll both pass with flying colors." His grin grew wider and ever more violent, "Tomura, fetch me the skinning blades."


It took longer than Shouta thought to track Hawks down, two whole weeks even. The man never seemed to be at home, and when he was at home he was apparently sleeping or training or doing some other busywork. Busywork that kept him suspiciously out of reach from any other hero. All Might could be tracked down, Endeavor, even, could be cornered.

The number three hero, however, was different.

All Might presented himself as a symbol of peace, a mighty pillar to which all of society could rest upon. Endeavor was like the fist of order, a hammer that would smash into villains and shatter them to the winds. Hawks was… Hawks was a scalpel blade, a precise and devastating instrument to cut out evil at its core.

And while both All Might and Endeavor had some measure of a public face, Hawks had none. Or rather, not one that was him anyhow. No one knew anything about him, no one knew Hawks the man, personally. Shouta had always kept his private life private, for obvious reasons, but even he had some friends who knew his real name, knew the real him.

As far as he knew, Hawks had no one like that. Hell, the only reason Shouta knew Hawk's real name, Keigo, was because he'd called in a few favors with his contacts in the police station.

It also took using said vast network of contacts throughout the hero agencies, vigilantes, and even a few ex-villains to even get a solid bead on where he might be.

Then, after the better part three hours worth of standing on rooftops, running through streets and listening into the hero-network radio chatter, he finally spotted him. That great red wingspan that so reminded Shouta of fresh blood, folded against the hero's back as he knelt at the edge of a building.

It was night. A deep night that was lit only by the ever-present glow of the still active city. Street lights illuminated the pavements below, cars still hurried through streets and even people milled about, shopping or clubbing or simply going to their night shifts.

And Shouta could see Hawks watching them, almost like a bird of prey would watch mice. He almost smiled at the thought before the implication hit him.

Still, he wasn't about to let the man get away again. He had questions, a mountain of questions, and while Hawks was not at the center of them, he could most certainly lead down the right path.

Shouta moved out from the shadow of the air conditioning unit he'd been hiding behind, making his presence obvious, but not loud. Hawks didn't even react, other than perhaps standing to his feet.

"You're a hard man to track down, Hawks," Shouta mused in a dry tone. The seriousness of his gaze was hidden behind his goggles. He wasn't prepared for a fight, but it might do well to use his quirk if Hawks decided to flee.

Just in case.

Hawks turned, a small smile that was almost a smirk played on his lips, and one eyebrow was raised in amusement. That wasn't what Shouta noticed the most though. In the few times he had met Hawks before, which he could count on one hand, there was always something… more about him. Certainly, when compared to the pictures he put up on social media. There was an undeniable presence that seemed to flow from him that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Maybe it was just his confidence, maybe it was the way those dark eyes of his seemed to sparkle like stars, maybe it was just the way he naturally rested a hand onto the handle of one of his katanas.

Maybe it was all those things.

It was strange, because he had really only ever felt that in one other person, and that other person was practically the complete opposite of Hawks.

And yet he knew they had a connection, which made him all the more nervous.

For some reason, the Star of David pendant hidden under his shirt felt a little heavier.

"Eraser Head. Long time no see."

Shouta didn't reply immediately, instead he continued to close the distance until he was only an arms reach from the winged hero.

"So, you've been chasing me all night. Whatever you've got to say must be pretty important," Hawks replied, his smile growing an inch wider. Again, those dark eyes sparkled, and again Shouta felt that strange air that always seemed to be around the winged hero.

He knew? How did he- the hero network. Someone must have told him. It was probably the only reason he stopped moving so damn fast.

His eyes twitched in focus. Hawks had known he was coming and made him run all this time. Clearly he was playing games, and he'd started before Shouta had even got there. "I've been meaning to talk to you. It's about the student you took on over the internship."

Something shifted in Hawk's stance. Some unperceivable thing that Shouta caught only because he was trained to catch such things. It was a tensing, a raising of a guard.

In his heart, his suspicion rose.

Hawks smiled, "Izuku? Yeah, he's a great kid. The best, actually. You know I think I'm going to take him on over the winter too. You cool with that?"

"Work it out with the office," Shouta moved a step closer to the winged hero, his hand still solidly in his pockets, "I'm sure Izuku will be happy to join your agency again. Especially since he seemed to have learned a lot from you," He let a second past, "In fact, that's just what I wanted to talk about. What exactly did you teach him?"

Again that moment of guarded hesitation. It was over so fast that Shouta could have missed it if he'd blinked.

"Well, you know, I just… boosted his confidence," Hawks shrugged, "It wasn't hard."

Bullshit. Shouta was glad the word remained in his thoughts and didn't come stumbling out of his mouth. The urge to call Hawks out on his more than obvious lie, however, was not one he could overcome.

Though at least he could do it with a little tact.

"Boosted his confidence, huh? You know we tried that at UA. It didn't work then, so maybe it's something else you showed him. Any other ideas?"

Hawks paused for a moment, putting a finger to his chin, "… Well, I did encourage him to change his look. The old costume was so not him."

Shouta had to hold back a scoff of dismissal. His eyes turned and roamed the glow of the cityscape before he announced, "Look. I'm not here to play games. We spent months trying to get through to Izuku, trying to help him understand and control his quirk. We almost took him out of the hero course, twice, because of how violent it was. Yet he came back from agency almost a completely different kid. So, I'm going to ask you plainly. How the hell did you do it in a week?"

A breeze danced around them, ruffling Hawk's feathers and Shouta's hair alike.

"Why are you really here?" Hawk's almost snappy answer cut through the air like a knife, "Is it to ask me about my teaching techniques? Or is it something else? Because honestly, I'm thinking you're all just glad he isn't setting everything on fire anymore. Unless you just happen to be jealous. You're not jealous are you, Eraser?"

Now Shouta really did scoff. He didn't feel jealous, not in the slightest. All he felt was concern. He moved again, though he didn't approach the winged hero. Instead, he came to stand beside the edge of the building so that they were now parallel to one another.

Below him the city went about their evening. Hundreds of normal people living normal lives. Hundreds of them safe in the knowledge that heroes like himself, like All Might, and yes even like Hawks stood above them as guardians.

They had such blind faith in their protectors. If only they knew the struggle and pain the heroes had gone through to become the warriors they were now.

And, if all went well, it would one day be Izuku Midoriya looking down on them, especially now that Nemesis had been collared and brought to heel.

"At the battle of the USJ, when the villains attacked, it was officially reported that they used some kind of bio-engineered monster to cause all that damage. But that's not the whole truth, the truth is that it was mostly caused by Nemesis going out of control."

"I know."

Hawk's reply caused Shouta to turn his head towards him, "How?"

For once the winged hero seemed caught off guard before he shrugged, "It was in his information packet."

"Hokori told you, didn't he?"

Hawks suddenly smirked at the name, and almost laughed, "Who the heck is-"

"I know you met," Shouta cut in, his dark eyes narrowing, "Our records have his original internship teacher canceling, but they insisted they were told to cancel by a representative of the school. I also know that you were scheduled to meet with one of our staff members, though we never sent any out."

"How did you-"

"Your secretary told me," Shouta's mouth twitched an almost cruel smile, "You'd be amazed what a hero badge and the threat of UA litigation can do to someone."

Hawks narrowed his dark, sparkling eyes for a moment before nodding once, "Yeah. Yeah, he told me. That was all supposed to be private though. Though I should have known," He linked his hands behind his head, "I'll have to have a word with my secretary, I hired her because she told me she was good at keeping secrets."

Hokori. When he had first discovered it was the lawyer who had covertly intervened, he had been shocked. Why him? What did he have to gain from interfering with Izuku's life?

And why did the thought of that man, with an air of constant darkness, standing behind Izuku with a hidden, guiding hand on his shoulder, fill him with dread?

"What else did he tell you?"

"Enough," Hawks shrugged, "Enough to know what I was dealing with."

"You know I saw it, once. Nemesis unleashed," Shouta began without looking to the winged hero. Again, his eyes roamed the city. Perhaps he simply didn't wish to keep looking into those strange, sparkling eyes.

Perhaps he simply didn't wish for Hawks to see how the very thought of Nemesis sent his guts twisting.

"I've never seen a quirk like it, and I've seen a lot of fucked up shit in my time in the underground. But Nemesis…" The terrible horror it seemed to radiate, the fear it stabbed into his very soul, the way every atom of his body had screamed to reject it. It was… unholy.

"We had a doctor come in to examine his quirk," He frowned, "You know what he wrote? That the boy was a demon, a monster, and should be put away for life."

"I know," Hawks sounded odd, and when Aizawa looked back, he was shocked to see an almost murderous look on his face. The very image sent a fear jolting down his spine, one which reminded him horribly of Nemesis itself.

But the look in Hawk's eyes. That… unearthly look of rage that seemed as though it was more than human.

He had stepped back before he had realized it.

The winged hero suddenly seemed somehow… greater. His instincts screamed that there was something about Hawks that was stronger, older, hidden, and powerful. But it wasn't the sense of overwhelming shadow and darkness he got from Hokori, it was… something else. Brighter, shining, but no less devastating in its wrath.

But it did remind him of the lawyer, and some deep, instinctual knot of anxious, primitive fear curled in the depths of his stomach.

Even more so, at that moment, Shouta understood something very simple. How he understood it, he wasn't sure, but his instincts screamed it at him.

There was an undeniable connection between Hawks, Horoki, and Izuku.

"When I first read that I…" The words spiked out Hawk's mouth like swords swinging down on necks, "How dare he insult Izuku like that." He was shaking with rage, and Shouta could see one hand moving to one of his famed katanas. "Stupid fucking mor…" He trailed away, turning his eyes from Shouta.

Then, suddenly, he took a deep, and the anger melted away. His hand moved up from his katana hilt and, with a long breath out, he started to relax.

The terrifying aura faded, but the damage had been done. Just what the hell was that? What the hell kind of power did Hawks possess And why did it feel so familiar to Nemesis and Hokori?

"Sorry, Eraser Head. Sorry. I didn't mean to…" Hawks glanced at the man before shaking his head and looking down, "I'm… very attached the kid, you know? And I can tell you now he's not a demon, definitely not a demon, and he's not a monster. He's just a kid and a good kid at that. And all he needed was some guidance. Some help." Something entered his voice. The tone of a hard-earned lesson, perhaps. "He needed to be put on the right path, so that he wouldn't make the mistakes others have done before."

Shouta had regained control of his heart, forcing the panic out of it and fixing the most stoic look he could upon his face.

"That still doesn't tell me what you taught him," He pushed, "How did you get him to control Nemesis?"

"Look, do you really need to know?" Hawks raised one of his bushy eyebrows, "I mean, he's doing great. Why try and fix what's already fixed?"

"Because I can't teach the boy without knowing how he learned to control his quirk," Shouta frowned deeply, "I understand how every quirk in my class works. I understand their strengths, their weaknesses, their practical applications, and possible future developments. All except for Izuku. If I don't know how Nemesis works, I can't teach him."

"Uuuugh, fine," Hawks chuckled and turned from Shouta with a casual spinning on his heel. He hopped up onto the building ledge and stood there for a moment.

Shouta tensed, wondering if he would have to erase Hawk's quirk to stop him from getting away.

"You know Tai Chi, right?"

"Of course."

"It's like that. All he needed was the right balance," Hawks chuckled, "It was a spiritual need, not physical… maybe a little mental though."

Shouta raised an eyebrow. Spiritual? Really? Hawks didn't strike him as the spiritual type, and for that matter, neither did Izuku.

When Hawks spoke again, his voice seemed… different, almost lyrical, "Izuku is special. He's going to change the world. Make him focus on his balance, remind him that not all victories are won by strength, make him think about how he uses his power, and how it uses him, and he should be fine. At least until he returns to me again."

The great wings spread out, the color of freshly spilled blood and moved to take off.

However, before he could do so Shouta darted forward, a hand reaching out to grab Hawk's wrist, "Wait! Why did Hokori come to you? What's your connection to him?"

Hawks, however, deftly danced away from his grasp and leapt back off the ledge.

Shouta almost activated his quirk, but at the last moment, Hawk's words stopped him.

Because what he said surely, surely, couldn't be true.

With a laugh, and with the beating of great, feathered wings, Hawks vanished into the night as his words echoed around Shouta.

"What can I say, he's family!"


SO IN CONCLUSION. It looks like Ibara and Katsuki have made up! And they're now teaming with Monoma! Also, Aizawa has gone on a fact hunt and has come away with some... interesting information. Surely that's not gonna kick Hawks in the behind later, right? Totally.

But my favourite part is clearly HIMIKO AND SATANI HAVE OFFICIALLY MET. In no uncertain terms, this is gonna have HUGE consequences. One of my favourite scenes is coming up, a scene involving her and Satani and pure evil but less on that, more on the next chapter. Next chapter we catch back up to the gang in a chapter has been repeatedly re-written over and over again because perfectionism.

It has Hitoshi! And All Might! And Aizawa! And maybe even a little bit of Kuroiro...

Thank you all for reading, and thank you for those who and sub and comment and ALL OF THAT GOODNESS. Seriously, thank you so so much. You're all amazing people.

So, hope you enjoyed and hope to see you all again next time my peeps!