Her ears rang.

A coppery taste clung to her tongue.

She bounced twice against unyielding asphalt, rolling shoulder over shoulder before slamming against a building.

Something popped out of place.

And then painfully popped back into place.

A gasp passed through her lips, followed by several curses. She dragged her fingers through the asphalt, clenching a handful of gravel and loose pavement before smashing her balled fist. It didn't do much. It certainly didn't help her feel any better. But the different source of pain dislodged the fuzziness drowning her thoughts. Suppressing another wince, disheveled bangs of hair stuck to Ryuko's skin as she staggered back onto her feet. And almost immediately her hand drifted to her stomach. That psychopath's kick really hurt. And like that, her eyes widened. Everything came rushing back. Fury swelled inside her heart. Through gnashed teeth and lips bloodied by the open cut on her forehead, Ryuko's head whipped around, bringing her face-to-face with the explosion already cooling to darkening reds and oranges.

"Hey, blood bank!"

One arm gripping the other, costume torn in some places while pristine in others, embarrassed and enraged he'd fractured something with his own Quirk like Deku, Bakugo growled, "You still breathing?"

She ignored that.

Fingernails fervently digging into her palms, she ignored everything except the only important question, "Is she dead?"

"She better be," Bakugo felt the pain in his arm subside, but he knew it was only temporary, "I used every lost drop of freaking sweat," before he'd learned how to use explosions to redirect himself midair, he'd broken his arm falling out of a tree. Deku hadn't been there. But that hadn't stopped the weakling from asking every day for three goddamn weeks if he needed help like an invalid, "If she survived that," he'd sacrificed every last drop of sweat and one of his Grenadier Bracers, but if what he heard was true, it was worth it, "We're shit out of luck."

He took another step.

And another.

Then stopped.

"That crap she said…about your dad," glaring at the burning horizon, he stopped next to Ryuko, "…all that true?"

"Yeah," Ryuko snarled, "…no…" she chewed her lip, "I…fuck! I don't know!" confessing how much she didn't know, Ryuko squeezed her hand tight enough for blood to drip between her fingers. A strange taste filled her mouth. She should be happy. She should be angry. She should feel any number of things. But unable to cry, least of all because it was too hot to do so, she buried everything. She swallowed the bitterness and conflicting emotions until nothing but emptiness filled the unfathomable void inside her chest, "…thanks for the help."

Her appreciation was countered by a snort.

"Like I give a shit," still nursing a fractured arm yet refusing any suggestion he needed medical assistance, Bakugo kept walking towards where he thought was the nearest exit out of the zone, "I know how much you wanted to kill that rabbit psychopath, but as long as she's dead, your dad can rest in peace, right?" she didn't know if he actually asked the question or she imagined he did, but by the time Ryuko recovered enough sense to ask, he was already halfway down the street, "Now, if you're done moping, we still need to take down that warpy-bastard. And find the rest of –"

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The familiar pitter-patter, an unremarkable pattern in any other context, devoured every breath of warmth.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

And the overwhelming menace and bloodlust oozing from the silhouetted figure stabbed Ryuko straight in the heart. She froze, but as fast as her body refused to move, she physically forced herself to turn around, trembling fingers squeezing her sword for comfort. She'd seen Bakugo's explosions take out a building. Even the renewed opportunity to beat answers out of Couturier took an extremely distant second to the disturbing realization that said sociopath tanked a goddamn explosion, "I thought you hit her!?"

"I did!" unnerved by someone surviving his most powerful explosion without a scratch, Bakugo snarled, "Damn it! She must have dodged at the last second!"

"Oh, you didn't ~miss~"

The smoke cleared.

"What…the…" bile rose up Ryuko's throat. Couturier's left arm was gone. The villain's arm wasn't just missing, Bakugo's explosion had torn it off the rest of her body, leaving nothing but scraps of ragged flesh dangling from her shoulder. Yet what made everything worse was the lack of blood spilling from the nauseating wound, "…fuck!?"

"How the hell is she still alive?" Bakugo sneered, equally disturbed and frustrated.

"That attack sure packed quite a punch. If I were anyone else, I could have actually died," a crack spread along the villain's rabbit mask, growing larger and larger until the upper right portion shattered into as many porcelain shards, "Not very hero-like, if you ask me," sapphire devoid of warmth stared at them, skin crinkled in such a way suggesting Couturier was smiling, "But I suppose that's my fault for letting my guard down."

Another crack spread across the broken porcelain mask.

Another piece fell to the ground.

And yet Couturier's voice never wavered an octave.

Heart pounding her chest and struggling to keep her own voice steady, Ryuko wiped the blood from her chin onto her wrist, "You good to go?"

Bakugo nodded, his good hand clenching into a fist, miniature explosions detonating around his knuckles, "I don't know what messed-up Quirk she has, but she's down an arm! Don't need a degree to know we're going to win!"

The skin around Couturier's shoulder convulsed.

Her bones regenerated first, forming a foundation for muscle and sinew, ending in new skin and perfectly manicured fingernails.

"Do you remember what I told you?" newly regenerated fingers unlatched her broken mask, "A woman ~never~ reveals her secrets," porcelain clattered to the ground, then shattered as a pink boot crushed it, "Attack me all you want, I don't really mind. Because I'll just get right back up again!"

Her cheerfulness was sickening.

And that grin, saccharine yet unnervingly cold and calculating, widened as she picked up her umbrella, undamaged by the massive explosion, "Gotta say, Ryuko, I thought you would be the first to chop off an arm or a leg. Not some nobody with a second-rate Quirk."

"Damn it," five minutes ago he would have been pissed, but after watching the villain regenerate, Bakugo was more than a little apprehensive, "She's been toying with us!"

"I ~sure~ have!"

Once more twirling her umbrella between manicured dainty fingers, Couturier's sing-song voice dripped with arrogance, "So, what's it gonna be, Ryuko?" she giggled at Bakugo while her eyes swiveled towards the teenager caught in the grips of mortification, "Are you going to go down swinging like a true hero? Or are you going to go out like your daddy, a coward until the end?"

Something snapped inside Ryuko.

"WHY'D YOU DO IT!?"

She flew over the ground, intent on doing everything possible to kill the giggling bitch, "WHY'D YOU KILL MY DAD!?"

"Aw, come on, Ryuko, what good will knowing do?"

The villainess didn't so much dodge her attacks as dance in rhythm around them, "It's not like anything ~I~ say will bring him back, right? Don't be absurd! You might as well move on with your life and forget all about him!"

"Move on!?"

Ryuko swung so fast her arms blurred.

"MOVE ON!?"

Her blood burned.

Her vision swam.

"YOU WANT ME TO MOVE ON!?"

Fingers gripped blood burning hot enough that it blistered her skin.

"You know, if you want to kill me, you have to ~hit~ me," her ascent, then descent, brushed cheeks unblemished by power and pure hatred against the blood-fueled shockwave all but tearing a path of destruction down the street. Landing on one foot, toes followed by heel, Couturier's lips further crinkled into a malevolent grin at how hard Ryuko was struggling to catch her breath, "But we both know you're much too slow to do something like –"

BOOM!

An explosion engulfed Couturier.

And then another.

And then another.

"Your voice is giving me a headache," holding out his good arm, Bakugo cursed profusely when the smoke cleared and the villain emerged unscathed, "I don't know what Ryuko's dad did to piss you off so much," not only was the psychopath fast and strong, she could also regenerate. Terrific, "But if you think I'm just going to stand back and let you off her, you're as stupid as that fashion disaster of a costume!"

That he referred to Ryuko by her first name instead of a nickname went unnoticed.

The villain's tongue gently clicked against the roof of her mouth, "That's quite the boast, but if I were you, I'd worry more about yourself."

Her tone didn't change, and yet Couturier's threat punctured Bakugo's confidence. Not her words, nor the subtle tightening of her smile without any muscles actually moving, but an eerily loud crack followed by his remaining Grenadier Bracer shattering into thousands of shards of metal, one of which she twirled between her lithe fingers. A piece no bigger than his finger. He caught a flicker of movement. A glimmer against the flames. Something stabbed the pavement behind him. His cheek felt cool. And against his better judgment, Bakugo glanced over his shoulder at the familiar piece of metal sticking out of the ground behind him.

As blood trickled down Bakugo's cheek from a cut barely thicker than his fingernail, fear eroded his confidence, "How the hell…"

"That's a stupid question," she hadn't been paying attention, yet Couturier twirled around the blood-forged sword, then pirouetted with one leg stretched vertically, kneecap kissing her lips, when Ryuko adjusted herself mid-swing, "Isn't it obvious?" a graceful backflip following the slightest of course corrections took her above the decapitating strike with only a few strands of genuinely blonde hair fluttering around the sharpened blade, "I'm just that far out of your league!"

In the middle of her taunt, the villainess flipped forward and ever-so-gently drove her foot into the back of Ryuko's neck.

"Well, it's been fun," as the ill-tempered hero-in-training struggled keeping her balance, Couturier brushed motes of dust and soot from her costume, "But I think we're done here."

"The hell do you think you're going?"

Too pissed off to realize she never so much as laid a finger on the villain, Ryuko spun around, swinging at empty space, "We're not finished!"

"Are you really that stupid?" pink boots halted as their owner paused mid-stride, "Hmm, of course, you are," facing away from the two young heroes, blade clasped against the small of her back, Couturier's voice hardened to an unnervingly jagged edge, "I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't this," her smile faded into a petulant pout, "Fighting you simply isn't fun. Well, not like this," as quickly as it had vanished, her malevolent smile returned alongside a noticeable tilting of her head, "I wonder if you'd be more fun after I killed your friend. Her name was Tsu…something…right?"

"RRAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHH!"

Blood exploded into the raging inferno around Ryuko, blossoming into a visceral flower before flowing into the writhing blade between her fingers.

"Oh, gosh, you're ~really~ going to fight until your body's dry, huh," heat brushed against Couturier's face, courtesy of the blistering explosion of raw power.

The hurricane-force winds dislodged her hair from its characteristic twintails.

Her dress fluttered and rippled as Ryuko's sword split down the middle, extending itself to nearly thrice its original length and snap back together.

"I wonder how much blood you're using, Ryuko. Ten liters? Or maybe fifteen liters," despite the sweltering heat and raging winds, Couturier punctuated each question with a cheerful giggle. Her sword shimmered in the autumnal light, audibly groaning as her fingers tightened ever-so-slightly around its curved handle, "Or maybe twenty. That's gotta be dangerous."

Ryuko gasped.

Her vision wavered, sounds becoming nothing more than muffled noises and the flames faded against clammy skin.

Barely able to stand, let alone speak, feeling worse than she'd ever felt before, Ryuko nevertheless forced herself to remain conscious.

"Well, I suppose it really doesn't matter," monstrous sapphire eyes narrowed gleefully, "But you better make this count, Ryuko, because if you screw up…" manicured fingers abruptly snapped the oversized scissor sword towards the teenager. And her smile twisted maliciously, unfazed by the hatred directed in her direction, "I'll be forced to take my fun elsewhere!"

Something happened.

An event so miraculous and unbelievable that Ryuko didn't understand until someone explained it to her.

For several seconds, the entire USJ trembled as if slammed by a powerful magnitude nine earthquake, shattering countless windows and knocking over a building rendered unstable by Bakugo's earlier explosion. Artificial flames danced chaotically. The pavement beneath her sneakers trembled, cracks spiderwebbing down the street and over sidewalks. The dome above them creaked and groaned, struggling to maintain itself against the overwhelming force punching its way throughout the USJ. Yet what temporarily drove away the encroaching darkness, leaving her feeling somewhat normal, dizziness and labored breathing forgotten, at least for a miraculous moment, was the blonde psychopath's attention swiveling towards something that wasn't either of them.

A split-second opening no longer than the blink of an eye.

Before the thought crossed her mind, a sweaty hand slapped her back.

Her skin charred.

The back of her PE uniform burnt to ash.

But the explosion propelled her towards Couturier several times faster than she could have moved under her own power. Her stomach lurched. Spittle flew from her lips. Her feathery hair fluttered as she went from zero to one hundred miles per hour in a heartbeat. The acceleration almost knocked her out, giving her newfound appreciation to Bakugo's ability to withstand his own explosions. Yet despite that, Ryuko remained focused. She drove away the darkness by focusing on one thing and one thing only. The only thing that mattered.

Halfway to Couturier, she slammed one sneaker against the street, redirecting her momentum and forcing herself into a front flip.

Another quarter of the way, floating upside-down inches above the asphalt, dirt brushing against her cheeks, she forcibly drew every last drop of blood back into her body.

She'd never pushed her Quirk this far.

Not even during the entrance exam.

Her heart felt like All Might himself was squeezing it.

It hurt.

She could barely think.

All she wanted to do was close her eyes.

But she didn't.

Another explosion. It could have been from her fist. Or it could have been from somewhere else in the USJ. Ryuko didn't know. And more importantly, she didn't care. As her knuckles impacted the villain's button nose with the force of a miniature nuclear explosion, she twisted her wrist and pushed. Blood splattered. Spittle flew outwards. Her upper body twisting at an awkward angle, Couturier slammed head-first against the ground before momentum catapulted her backwards through a building, shattering glass and disintegrating reinforced concrete in a trajectory that took her halfway across the fire rescue zone, through the retaining steel dome and into the USJ's greater facility.

"GGGGOOOO TTTTOOOO HHHHEEEELLLLLLLL!"