That afternoon, all traces of humor from lunch vanish. I stand in the USJ with the others, preparing for our rescue mission, when Thirteen and Aizawa-sensei tense at the strange vaporous darkness warping into existence above.
I hold my breath. It smells familiar. It tastes familiar. My insides hum, my shadows vibrate in tandem. I curl inward at the sensation, Green glancing at me nervously.
"What's that?" The Red asks, his body hardening. "Is this like the entrance exam, where the lessons already started?"
The shadows condense down the stairs near the fountain, whirling and swirling in an all too familiar way. A hand surges forward. I step back, feeling the fear radiating my body as someone steps out. Hands cover the figure, hands on his face and shoulders and arms. Part of me itches to reach out, to grab hold of the vortex of darkness, to take it and stuff it down, down, down into some never reachable abyss.
It tastes like death.
It tastes like darkness.
It's too familiar.
More people step out. My classmates lurch forward, I hesitate again, feeling the strength of the shadows curling in my very bones.
"Don't move!" Aizawa-sensei demands. There's a purpose in his stance I haven't seen before. His slouch is gone, his body taut and ready. He puts on his glasses. "Those are villains."
"There's no way villains could get into a hero school!"
"What about the trespasser sensors?"
"Did they only appear here or around the school?"
"It's obvious this is a planned attack," says the dual haired one. I glance down at the villains, recognizing some of their faces. Familiar looking thugs, some of them older children from the group homes maybe?
I grimace.
If you want to be a hero, show them your strength. Smile.
I force my lips to curl and smile.
"There's probably someone jamming the frequency, someone with a radio quirk."
Aizawa-sensei jumps from the balcony and I don't notice the others leaving, eyes stuck on those grins. A girl with a gun quirk, a boy with a weapon. My chest tightens. The tape one notices, grabbing me by the arm. He jerks me away.
"Hey, come on," he huffs.
I nod and stumble beside him, glancing back hesitantly at the mass of enemies. I stop when I feel it. The shadows swirl ahead. I flinch at the power it wields; at the death it brings.
"Nice to meet you. We are the League of Villains!"
Why the hell do you get to have powers when you won't even use them!
I flinch at the thought.
W-W-What if I do neither?
I stop hesitating. Ripping myself free of the boy beside me, I scratch long sharp lines down my arm. The pain burns as I rip through flesh. Tape-boy jumps back in alarm, and I let the shadows pour out my hands, out my pores, and latch onto this… this shadow man.
It's like throwing a burning arm in ice.
Thirteen yells a warning.
I can't hear it. It's cold, colder than any winter without food, more desolate than any sleepless night, more terrifying than any nightmare. The man beneath rips free of me in seconds, bright eyes latching onto my own. I can see the planes of a face lost in the sea of darkness. I can see the expression of surprise curling their, of anger and fear. Then Explosive and Red are surging forth, attacking in wild abandon. I fall backward, crashing into Green even as the dark void stretches out.
It covers us in its chaos.
I clutch my flashlight to my chest.
"I'll scatter you all and torture you all to death!"
The darkness explodes in screams.