Never Cut Twice

Akaguro, grunted as a fist buried itself into his gut. "Again." Came a voice, and the young man got to his feet.

Akaguro readied himself, Sensei, the man in his 60's waited for him to get to his feet "You're going to allow an old man walk over you?" Akaguro, gritted his teeth as fury flooded his veins.

He jumped to his feet, assumed his stance and instead of charging forwards waited. His sensei smirked, more salt than pepper hair cut short and kept in a short pony-tail with a glittering green eye watched. The sign to begin was a subtle nod of the head.

Pupil and Master clashed in a choreographed dance of fists, elbows, feet and knees. There was no dialogue needed, for Akaguro Chizome, Stendhal, Sensei had been there for him.

The pair parted "You've done well, Chizome. You've surpassed my expectations; you have truly honed your body and mind far more than I had expected." Sensei bowed to him.

"I…couldn't have done this without you, sensei."

"Yes…you could. You could have done this on your own, but you're smart and you found someone to assist you in your vigilante acts." Akaguro's eyes widened.

"Yes, Stendhal…You think that due to missing an eye and being close to 90, that time has robbed me of my remaining eye?"

Akaguro stared in shock "You're nearly 90, sensei! I am…"

"Don't be sorry. You're my last pupil, not by best and greatest; that's my Godson and his family. But you, Akaguro Chizome are my last. This, what is to come…is your last test."

"My last test? Master, what else is there I can learn?" Chizome asked as he followed his master.

"One always learns, young Akaguro. One always learns. Do you remember when you first came to my door? Remember my creed?"

"Believe in your-self, believe in your cause. Never fight unless it is your only option or last option, then strike hard, strike fast and never cut twice. You also said a lot of things about respecting your fellow man."

Sensei snorted a derisive almost barking laugh "That's because I belong to a more civilised age; of the 12th century…I was born to be a 'good man' and a 'hero' in this age of such tedious black and white, right and wrong, hero and villain. Chizome, you either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain unless you're Stan Lee, in which case you lived the life of a hero, died and became a god."

"Stan Lee?"

"I will leave you my pre-quirk collection of hero movies and comics…" They had left the dojo and were moving along a basement corridor.

"Is this…"

Sensei chuckled "This is my lair. I wasn't a hero, much too dark; cynical and mercantile for them. I was no Villain, as many a Villain found out; I told them my terms and yet none listened…"

"Because they didn't listen, you killed them."

Sensei nodded "They're still looking for me. Out of everyone from my generation, I'm the last one. We were the catalysts in Britain at least for what would become the Hero Laws. I have no idea where this quirkest and selective bullshit came from, but it is here and I have no children of my own to take up my cause. I'm an old man, who's survived by clean living."

"Clean living?"

"No carbs, high protein diet, yoga, training and juice…Lots of juice." By now the pair had reached what was most definitely the armory.

"We're here, curse these old bones of mine."

"Sensei, you should rest."

Sensei looked at his pupil "No…This is your final test. In here…all of the weaponry, the books, the videos the lot…this lair is yours. Providing you can do one last test."

Chizome gulped "That is?"

"Kill me and take up my boneheaded quest."

Chizome paled "I…can't. Sensei, you practically raised me."

"Because I saw your potential, Akaguro Chizome. I saw you as the one to succeed me…Are you able to?"

With that sensei, under Chizome's hawk like gaze, walked to two old katanas and picked them up. With the sheathes in his long, pale and almost skeletal hands, he turned and handed Chizome a katana.

As Chizome grabbed the katana, his breathing hitched and heart skipped a beat. The blade felt weightless, it wasn't just weightless, it was "Bit like an old friend? Feels like it almost immediately becomes a part of you?"

"Yeah…"

"Because it was meant to. Back when we first started…Then after I deemed you ready to move on through my tuition."

Chizome remembered, he'd had to wield bokken and other weaponry "You mean…"

"Yes, as I've said my young disciple, my young friend all of this is yours. It's an old tradition, when I was a boy."

"What was?"

"Master and Apprentice, final and fatal bout. The Master would forge two blades, one for him and one for his apprentice. The Master would put his soul into those two blades."

"Then we fight. One of us walks away."

Sensei nodded "Here, Akaguro Chizome." With that the first sword was handed to him. With hands faintly shaking, the blade was taken.

"Sensei, one question."

"That is?"

"Your name. You've had me call you sensei, the entire time I've known you. Now, you ask me to be your executioner…May I please, know your name."

"Potter, Hadrian. Hadrian Potter, the Stain of British Heroics, Bane of Villains and Posing Heroes everywhere."

"Hadrian-sensei, I, Akaguro Chizome will carry out your task. I wish it didn't have to happen like this."

Harry smiled "You don't have to like this. Honestly, this…dying by your hand is preferable to cancer. My quirk, has merely warded off disease."

"That is quite a quirk."

"Much like your Bloodcurdle. I watched you, I disagree with UA about your quirk not being suited for heroics. What happens you ingest the blood?"

"They're paralysed. Not full on muscular paralysis that could stop them breathing, but rather it locks down their muscles in the arms and legs, I believe."

"Paramedic or a Copper. Ingest blood the unco-operative prisoner or patient becomes well less of a problem."

Chizome nodded "It's also helped me with my Stendhal work."

Harry chuckled "Stendhal…a nice name, change it. Now, prepare yourself."

With a smooth motion, the katana scraped free and Harry flung himself at his apprentice. Chizome's blade scraped free and the sound of metal, grunts and groans permeated the hidden lair as Master and Apprentice, now Friends clashed in one last fight.

Chizome would call himself a talented swordsman, but against Harry…he had been merely a monkey with a blade. Harry, was an artist. His footwork, balance, counter-balancing, his feints and flurries were almost as if he was a painter.

Suddenly there was a minute opening, his left-hand strikes left him marginally open. Chizome retaliated, sparks flew the blade strikes got more frantic as Chizome used his training to his advantage, Harry gradually gave ground; all the while grinning.

Eventually, it felt like an eternity but in reality it was about five minutes Chizomes, youth and younger frame broke Harry's defence. Harry's blade went wide, aiming to decapitate him. Chizome ducked underneath, sheathed and unsheathed his sword in a smooth motion, catching Harry between his ribs opening the older mans chest.

Blood erupted forth, coating Chizome in the life-force of his teacher. Chizome dropped his sword and caught his teacher before he hit the ground "You…won. Chizome, thanks." Harry gargled.

"Sensei…everything is going to be okay. I can…"

"No, Chizome. I am old, my friends are all dead. My children and there families are all dead, I am an old man who merely wants to see his friends again." The glimmer in Harry's eye gleamed one final time before he breathed his final breath and his eyes closed and he eventually passed on.

What happened next for Akaguro was a blur, he vaguely remembered finding a notebook for him and how following the directions perfectly would lead to Harry-sensei's death being completely untraceable; unless a relative was found and wanted a thorough investigation.

Akaguro, busied himself with Harry-sensei's lair. Right now, he was scrolling through the databanks of heroes and was categorising themselves into 'lost causes', 'to be corrected', 'to be observed' and 'true'. What blew the Bloodcurdler's mind was just how many heroes and villains his sensei had saved, killed, handed over or even just plain threatened. The mans own records had been redacted, but an unredacted file with the initials LH in Japanese detailed just how dangerous his sensei had been.

It detailed how Harry had been targeted by a villain organisation with ties to the 'Knights of Walpurgis', who in turn had links to man known as 'AFO'. The information on AFO, was scarce only that AFO had been surprised at sensei's skill at arms and had offered him a quirk. Sensei had evidently refused; but then three weeks later, just after sensei was eighteen, he'd been abducted and his family destroyed.

Sensei had turned up in Germany of all places, with three knives in his back and pipe missing his spleen and important organs. Chizome was amazed, his sensei had been through so much and seen so much and had chosen to teach him.

His sensei had been stained, stained at a young age and thoroughly stained as he got older. Punished by being untaken by death, now at peace. Chizome looked up at the picture, one he'd not seen before; but realised that it was a family portrait.

The family portrait was of sensei much younger and with a woman with bright red hair and glowing blue eyes. In there arms were three children and underneath was everyones names: Hadrian, Ginny, James, Albus and Lily Luna.

"Sensei, the stain you made on heroics. You might not have seen the benefit but I did. So many heroes who do not measure up to your humble expectations. 'Doing what is right, not what is easy', Sensei, if I must I will stain the ground of the impure heroes. You might turn in your grave as will those who know you, but I believe…I believe that Heroes can be like All Might; saving most people, never all for Heroes are human after all. Stendhal is dead, Stain; The Judge of Heroes is born."

Harry watched a Chizome, changed his garb and a grin stretched across his face "Do you think you've made the right choice?" Harry turned to see his friends waiting for him.

"I've been a Hero, I've been a Villain and I've been a Vigilante. I've seen the world in its glory and its shittiest, so everyone…Akaguro Chizone, Stendhal and Stain; he'll do. Better than I did. Let's leave him to it and thus the descendent of the Youngest Brother greeted Death like an old friend."

With that Harry turned to his friends and together, faded from existence leaving the soon to be Hero-Killer in his lair.

Chizome smiled as he found his first target, Iwako Akira; a crook more than a villain, but under the influence of trigger…had murdered a family of four and wounded seven police officers and was currently at large. "You, Iwako Akira shall be the first to be cleaned in the 'Revival of Heroes'. For, I shall only be caught by a True Hero, like All Might."

His resolve hardened, his sensei's reliquary of knowledge at his disposal. Stain, set out on his zealous task.