Izuku's back hit the ground, the concrete feeling cold against his sweaty skin. Now that his cast was gone, Stain had amped up the training. His teacher wasn' holding back as much and the teen was feeling the burn. But the feeling was pleasant, like the feeling you get after finishing a really hard puzzle. Well, that was a lame example but you get the idea.

They had trained for over an hour today and Izuku was as tired as ever. His limbs ached and his breath was uneven. It was a great contrast to Stain, who was sitting down calmly, examining one of the many knives he carried around. In the over two weeks they'd been training, Izuku had never once seen Stain out of breath, not even when he carried the teen over rooftops in one arm.

He sighed, satisfied. He felt so much better than he had in months -maybe even years- and he couldn't hide it. His mother had noticed, his teachers too. Kacchan had even approached him at some point asking why Izuku was "so goddamn happy?" He'd just smiled and said that he'd found something better to dream about. That earned him a slightly burnt sleeve but nothing more.

The fact that he had to hide what he was doing for everyone to be happy with him didn't escape him, though. It hurt a tad that no one believed in him still, that no one had even stopped to ask him how he really felt after the incident. But with every passing day, it hurt a bit less. He no longer had to fake smiles and that was good enough for him.

Izuku got into a sitting position and reached for his backpack. He always took the time after training to write down some of the things he'd learned or things Stain told him. He'd written about heroes in a way he never thought he would and wrote down ideas that he had never considered. It was all so new that he had even started using a different colored pen. If anyone was to read his past notebooks compared to this one they wouldn't be able to guess they were written by the same person.

But at the end of the day, if Izuku really thought about it, he had changed since he'd met Stain. He was getting stronger, more confident, more realistic in his approach to life. He was still himself, but not quite, at the same time. He felt different.

He tapped his pen on the side of his face, thinking about what to write for that day. He had stopped using names in his writings just in case the notebook were to fall into the wrong hands. He could only imagine what would happen if one of his classmates was to read what he'd written.

Paragraph after paragraph about justice, the purge of people without resolve, be them heroes or villains, and the willingness to give yourself up for what you believed was right, decorated the paper in his hands. Over half the notebook was already filled to the brim.

Would people think he was insane if they read this? Would they believe he was out to get them all?

He didn't want to think about that.

"What are you even doing?" the notebook was snatched from his hands, Stain holding it with two fingers and staring at Izuku with an odd expression.

"I've been writing what you've taught me!" the teen replied, reaching for the notebook but grabbing nothing but air. "What I've learned so far."

Stain hummed, looking at the paper like it was somehow insulting him. He'd never had a problem with Izuku's notes before this, and the green-haired boy was unsure of what to do other than getting to his feet.

Every time I think I know him, he changes , Izuku thought.

"You think this will help you out there, kid?"

"I… well, I like looking back on things to…"

"To what? Think about them?" Was Stain angry? He sure seemed like it. "You have to practice these things. You have to do them."

"But I have! Every day I-"

"Is the only thing you're willing to do just write about what I tell you?"

"No!"

"Then what, Midoriya?" Stain loomed over him, red eyes burning. This was serious, very serious, Izuku realized. "What are you willing to do to fix this broken society? To make a new, more just one? How are you different from the people out there?"

"I…" Izuku stepped back. He could feel the spotlight on him, bright and accusatory. Of course, Stain would want more from him, he'd want Izuku to act. All the progress he'd done this past few weeks suddenly seemed insufficient. What had he done so far, other than getting a little more stamina? Had he actually learned anything? Had he actually taken the time to examine the knowledge he'd been given?

Would he be able to reach Stain's expectation at all at some point?

"Are you just going to talk and do nothing?" Stain pressed, throwing the notebook at the boy with force. Izuku barely caught it. "Or do you have what it takes to act?"

"I…" He was close to crying, he could feel it. His eyes stung and his throat was tight. Had he been pretending all this time, telling himself he could actually make a difference when he was incapable of doing anything? Was he hesitating about what Stain had told him? Did he not want this?

He trembled. The villain's red eyes were still trained on him, intense. He looked at the man, for once trying to figure out just what he felt. He remembered the training, the advice Stain had given him, the drive to push forward he'd felt recently. He thought of every word he'd written down in his new book, his hands closing around the paper and scrunching it up in his fists.

No. He wasn't just holding onto nothing. He believed every sentence he had written down. He had believed in those words since Stain had opened his eyes to the way things really were. And if Stain was still willing to help him, then he couldn't allow his resolve to falter. Not now.

"So?" Stain asked.

"...I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"Anything?" Stain pushed, leaning down to look Izuku in the eye, "Even being hated because of it? You're willing to become a villain?" And then, lower "A killer, Midoriya Izuku?"

He was shaking, tears rolling down his cheeks. He had tried not to think about that since they had begun training, but he knew at one point he'd have to face the reality that the man teaching him was a serial killer. A man who could take a life without batting an eye, without thinking twice. A man capable of many things that most would think monstrous.

Izuku had never faced death up close. Two of his grandparents were dead, but he hadn't seen either body. He simply remembered his family being together, talking, drinking, and crying only a little since those people had lived long lives. He'd never lost anyone to an untimely death, he'd only seen one dead body in his whole life and that was Stain's last victim. He didn't know what loss was and he couldn't even fathom what taking a life was like.

But he couldn't ignore reality anymore. He couldn't close his eyes to the way things worked.

No. Scratch that. He did not want to close his eyes anymore. Stain had been the only one to talk to Izuku on his level, he'd given him the benefit of the doubt and he had been willing to teach him not only about combat but about the philosophy he believed in with all of his being. In all his life, the only one willing to give him a chance had been the man standing in front of him right now.

And that had to mean something.

Izuku looked up, meeting Stain's eyes with intensity even if he was still crying. He could see a reason to keep going in the red eyes staring back at him.

"...Yes." His voice cracked, so he tried again with more conviction. "Yes! I'm willing!"

Stain looked at him for a moment. Izuku only broke eye contact to rub his eyes with his hand and when he opened them again there was a knife being offered to him. Stain looked serious, like the first time they'd met.

"Then prove it."

They walked in silence with Stain leading the way. Izuku's feet followed Stain automatically while he focused on the object in his hands. The knife Stain had given his was much smaller than the once they usually used during training.

It was about 15 inches long, the blade taking up two-thirds of that. Both handle and blade were black and the back of the knife was serrated. A hunting knife, Izuku assumed. Even if it was the perfect size for his hand, it felt heavy. He could see how easily someone would cut themselves with it and swallowed.

He should have seen this coming. It was impossible for him to train under this man and not have to hurt someone. He'd always known, but he'd tried to ignore it. His only comfort was that they weren't just going to kill any random person that crossed their paths.

"You can do this," He murmured to himself like a mantra "You can do this, you can do this, you can do this…"

Stain gave him a look over his shoulder but said nothing. He was always silent during their walks.

Izuku wasn't sure for how long they moved, but Stain stopped next to an old, three-story building. He wasn't sure if it was abandoned or not but the area didn't seem that bad. The alley that led out into the main street was tiny; if Izuku extended both arms he might be able to touch both walls. There was a ladder leading to the top of the brick structure and, after a look towards the boy behind him, Stain started climbing.

Izuku looked around, paranoid about every noise he heard. Every little crack felt like steps coming closer and he unknowingly held the knife closer to his chest. He only started climbing when he noticed Stain was halfway up already.

The sun was already setting, giving the sky an orange glow and tinting the city with long purple shadows. It was almost beautiful, Izuku thought. He could see big buildings off in the distance and a park a few blocks away with a swingset. His mind attempted to think of the people that used those places, trying to find something else to think about, but he quickly turned his attention towards the other man. He couldn't get distracted right now, could he?

Stain was crouching low at the edge of the roof, looking down. Izuku walked forward with tiny steps and settled next to him, about three feet away from the edge.

"Stain?" He asked, barely above a whisper. Stain didn't tell him to keep quiet so he continued "What are we doing up here?"

But there was no answer. Time passed, the sky turning dark and a few tiny stars twinkling softly above them. Street lamps turned on and storefronts illuminated. Cars drove by, their lights dancing in the distance.

Izuku shifted on his feet, his legs getting cramped. He held the knife firmly in his hand, still. It felt like a little lifeline. The wind blew tossing Stain's scarf and mask every which way. It was cold up there, and Izuku instinctively scooted closer to Stain's form. He didn't get close enough to get any sort of warmth but at least the bigger man covered him from the wind slightly. Now he could see the street below them. There were people walking, out and about even in the dark. It was still early enough, Izuku assumed.

Stain had his eyes fixed on the ground below them, still as a statue. Izuku could barely even make out the rise and fall of his chest. After some more silent minutes, the teen started fidgeting with the knife in his hand. He tried nothing fancy in fear of cutting himself, but he let his fingers tap on the handle silently.

A firm but gentle hand covered his own and Izuku glanced at Stain in surprise. The man was still looking down pointedly but he'd been aware enough to notice Izuku's small movement. The boy swallowed. Stain's hand was twice as big as his own, rough with scars and callouses. But the touch was sturdy enough to ground Izuku. He let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding and looked down as well, forcing himself to follow his teacher's example.

Stain removed his hand and they both watched the street in silence, two unmoving figures in the dark for what was probably over an hour. Izuku let his mind wander a bit. He thought of his mom, happy at home thinking that her son was out with "friends" again. He thought about his classmates and how they'd pretty much started ignoring him as if he were a ghost. He thought about how the only looks he still got at school were from Kacchan, now uneasy rather than hateful. He thought of his classes, his teachers, and the small career questionnaires he'd answered recently. They were all filled at random.

And then he thought of the man next to him. He wondered why he had even given him the light of day, why he had shared so much of what he did with this no-body kid. He wondered what his life could possibly be like when they weren't training and he wondered about what he had been like before he became what he was. He realized that he mostly just wanted to understand Stain fully.

They'd been so silent and still for so long, that Stain's sudden exhale caught his attention. His eyes were wider now, hand on the hilt of his katana. Izuku followed his gaze down into the entrance of the alleyway that led to the ladder they'd climbed earlier. There were two figures there, walking in and talking to each other.

One figure was much taller than the other, his outfit telling Izuku that he was a hero. He shifted his gaze towards the main street, which was now deserted, and then towards Stain.

And Izuku froze.

Stain was looking back at him with a crooked smile, his eyes almost manic. Izuku looked back down at the two figures. They were right below them now. Time slowed for half a second. Stain stood, silent and graceful like a cat, and he pulled his katana out of its sheath. He looked genuinely grand, standing straight with his sword in his hand like an extension of his own arm. He stepped forward into the void and let himself fall.

And then time rushed all at once.

Izuku scrambled towards where the ladder was, hearing the commotion below him. There was a loud thud, yelling, a metallic sound, and a very loud crack and then… just voices. He leaned over the edge of the building, holding onto the ladder in desperation. The figures were all still.

He climbed down the ladder frantically, almost slipping more than once and actually dropping his knife at some point. He landed on his knees and looked up with wide eyes.

He could see blood. Lots of it.

The hero was thrown to the side, head tilted back and blood streaming down his face. Stain was right over him, katana dripping red onto the alley floor. The remaining person was whimpering closer to where Izuku was. He was also wearing a hero costume but his figure was much smaller than the other two.

Stain turned towards Izuku, his face the very definition of coldness. Izuku trembled.

"Get back your knife." The villain said gravely. But Izuku was paralyzed. This was it. This was what Stain really looked like. He was thinking everything and nothing all at once, an odd ringing in his ears. This man had just jumped off a building, he'd immobilized two people all by himself, he'd done everything without even blinking.

"Your knife." Stain repeated, focusing his gaze on the still-conscious hero. The form on the ground was crying, a slash on his back dyeing his light-colored suit crimson. Izuku felt his legs carry him towards the back of the alley to where his knife must have fallen. He found it further down and he leaned down to pick it up stiffly. The weapon felt heavy in his hand, the metal scrapping the concrete loudly just from being picked up.

He could hear a horrible gurgling behind him and he had to cover his mouth to keep himself from making any sound. He knew what had happened. He could imagine it just fine but he wasn't sure if reality would be even worse than his imagination. The whimpering behind him escalated into full-on sobbing and he could hear steps getting closer.

Stain stood behind him.

"Get up."

Izuku did as told. His legs felt like lead.

"Now turn."

His body rotated by itself. Stain's form was shielding his view from the carnage. He could see Stain's chest and nothing else, he was so close. Izuku felt static running through his brain, the shock not letting him go just yet. He was still practically unresponsive when the villain tilted his head upwards and looked him dead in the eye.

"I'm giving you a way out right now, so you better snap out of it."

Stain stepped to the side and nausea immediately hit Izuku. The hero was where he had been before, but his head was a good four feet from the rest of his body. There was a sea of blood around him, somehow still getting bigger by the second. The other hero was facing towards Izuku, tears streaming down his face messily.

The teen barely had any time to move to the side before throwing up violently, his whole body shaking fiercely. Stain simply looked down at the watch on his wrist and waited for Izuku to be done.

"Why?" Cried the hero on the ground, "Why would you do this?" His voice was small and high pitched and then it dawned on Izuku: This was no hero. This was a boy no older than himself, probably out doing his practices. His mask had been tossed off to the side, wide blue eyes meeting Izuku's green. He looked terrified, unsure, sad. Broken.

Just like Izuku himself had been a few weeks prior.

"You have to decide what happens next, Midoriya Izuku." Said Stain, loud enough to take both boys by surprise. The hero apprentice was biting his lip pitifully, tears still cascading out of his eyes. The closeness of the main road seemed to mock the poor kid.

"I… w-what?" Izuku stuttered. He was regaining feeling in his hands and feet slowly as he snapped out of shock and into a mix of denial and panic.

Stain's voice was horribly dry as he said: "You either kill this false hero in training, or you let him live after he heard your full name."

Izuku felt cold and hot at the same time. He was sweating and shaking, his back bent forwards and his head almost between his knees. The floor was disappearing under his feet like it was smoke and he felt vertigo creeping up his body. His stomach lurched and he heaved again but there was nothing else for him to throw up, so he spit out bile instead. His vision was blurry. Was he passing out? No. Not yet.

"So which will it be, Midoriya?" Stain asked behind him in a hiss.

The villain had set him up. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. He knew from his shaking hands that he didn't have it in him to kill the other teen in cold blood but Stain had said his name twice already. The boy had heard, he was sure. If Izuku let him go now, his month-long charade would end and he would be known to the public as the Hero Killer's protégé. Everyone would know by morning that Izuku Midoriya had helped in the murder of at least one hero.

His mother would be destroyed. His classmates would despise him. Everyone he had ever loved would hate him. He knew that. But his head just couldn't reach a decision.

His most selfish side, the side that didn't want things to change screamed at him to do something. He couldn't let the truth get out, not yet. Not ever. His hands closed around the knife's handle so hard that he thought his fingers might break. His whole life, his future depended on whether the boy on the ground could speak about him or not.

It's a simple problem, a part of him whispered in the back of his head. His eyes met blue and he could see utter desperation in those eyes.

Izuku stepped forward almost drunkenly and the other boy whimpered like a wounded animal.

The sound of metal hitting the ground was almost deafening. Had the other kid been able to move, he would have flinched violently. Izuku's knife bounced on the cold floor a few times before it stopped moving, leaving the alley in an eerie silence. Izuku's back crashed against the wall behind him and he tried to push himself back even more.

"I… I can't do it. I can't!" He wept hopelessly. He shook his head and hugged himself in despair. Whatever he decided, his life would never be the same. But he just couldn't.

"Why not?" asked Stain, "If you let him go, everyone will know who you are. What you let happen."

"I know…" Izuku whispered. He looked at Stain with pain in his eyes. "I know!"

"Then why not kill him?"

"I can't!" He could hear hysteria in his own voice along with the loud crying of the other kid.

"Well, let's try this then." Stain stepped towards the fallen figure. He pointed his katana at the boy's neck with very clear intent. "I'll kill him for you if you can't do it."

The boy on the ground had his eyes closed tightly by now. Stain's hand was perfectly still in the air and the katana didn't as much as tremble. He was serious, like usual.

Izuku dragged as much air as he could into his lungs. He felt light-headed. His mind was going a mile a second. He could go back home still, he could still back out. His hands were clean, he hadn't done anything wrong. He could let this happen, he could forget about everything.

Stain looked expectant.

Izuku locked eyes with his mentor and said the only thing his heart would allow him.

"Let him go. Please."

"You sure? There's no going back if you let him live. He's not gonna keep your secret. And he might even become my target at some point, regardless."

"I know," Izuku shocked himself by laughing, "But he's just a kid. He's my age. He hasn't even had the chance to decide if he wants to be a real hero or not. He might just be good, after all. I can't just… I can't let him die for my sake."

The other boy looked as shocked as Izuku felt. Stain stared Izuku down for what felt like ages before he put his katana back in its rightful place on his back. Neither Izuku nor Stain moved when the other kid snapped out of his paralysis and painfully made his way out of the alley without looking back.

He was gone.

Izuku felt his legs give out and he landed on the floor like a ragdoll. It was done. Right or wrong, he'd signed his own fate. He was in too big a shock to even cry. His eyes felt overly dry and he couldn't focus on anything right. He only knew Stain was coming close because of the general movement. He heard the knife he'd dropped getting picked up and then saw Stain's boots standing right in front of him.

"You made your choice, kid."

"...Yeah. I did."

"What are you going to do now?"

Izuku laughed weakly and looked up at where Stain's face would have to be.

"I don't know. You tell me."

Stain exhaled with a hint of amusement and then offered his hand at Izuku. The teen took it and, after a second, pulled himself up.

For better or for worse, Izuku had made his choice. And he refused to regret it.