A patch of blood-red hair fell over his eyes as Izuku shifted to look at each individual mercenary in front of him. His casual smile - ever-present on his current persona - widened the tiniest bit and conveyed an undeniable sense of amusement for all to sense; adding on to the rising tensions.
Izuku could see that his calm, amused and undaunted demeanor even in the face of superior numbers had unnerved this mercenary unit's Commanding Officer. He could tell that the current image of his form reflected in their eyes was not helping them keep their cool.
Good...
That was what he was aiming for anyway.
... A star wreathed in dark green light shuddered within a chained embrace. He watched as it collapsed and drew into itself as different stars in a multitude of colors began to sing a tune of giddy emotions. It was the song of beginnings. It was the song of rebirth. He watched with patience as the star collapsed into a single black dot, darker than the space that was its backdrop, outlined by pure, white light...
... It was the inevitable...
... It was the end of every celestial body...
... It was the death of a star...
... Luminous, infinite kaleidoscopic light burst forth from the corpse of the star. From within the black hole, came the beat of life and the endless march of endless possibilities. He could feel the reduced ability to view the framework - the Truths - of the world fade from the boundless walls of his soul as the power was destroyed and reborn as his charge once more. He had no more need for this ability. His hands reached out as he began to shape this infinite well of power into the form he desired. Songs of excitement became his companion as his charges/abilities reminded him that he had used them more times this day than he did for all the months before. He accepted their wordless joyful exclamations as pale, translucent blue flames tried to reach out to him. Black, ravenous chains wrapped itself tight around the star as it devoured its power, its potential...
... It was the ability to rewrite the reality of his being; to express, to write an alternative truth of his self. He could be anyone. He could be anything. He is who he decides who he is. All he is, all he was, all he could be, was within his control. His was the ability to shift his past, rewrite his present, and to overcome his future but with the restraint he had placed on his very soul, it was no more than a shadow of a shadow of a shadow of its intended glory. Faded as it may be, it was enough...
... To hide his form from the world, it was more than enough...
Ghost Walker
This was the ability he had gained from his restrained quirk. It was the ability to fool the world by replacing the information the world perceives with his own desired reality. It was essentially the ability to hack the world and lay an undetectable, imperceptible illusion; a lie no different from the truth.
This persona was essential to hide who he is.
Momo wanted to be a hero. She wanted him to be beside her as she walked down her path. Izuku acknowledged that what he was currently doing was not acceptable in the eyes of the Hero Society and thus if this was found out by said community, he would have to kiss any chances of going down that road with his mistress goodbye.
"Good evening, 1st Lt. Yuri Petrov of Equilibrium! The full moon tonight is quite nice, yes?"
Though the good lieutenant tried to hide it, Izuku could tell that he was unnerved by the casual revelation that he knew who Yuri was. His smile widened a smidgen and a mocking scorn was directed towards the CO.
Most importantly, it displayed his sharpened teeth; though it may even be more appropriate to call it his fangs.
He could detect the subtle shivers that everyone - both the soldiers and the silent hostages - tried to hide. Although quirks had dominated the population of the world, discrimination is still a large part of society.
In a world where people are born with power, those who are stronger will always look down upon those who are weaker. In the same vein, people will always be wary of those who are different. Those who are born with physical mutations - just like his illusionary teeth - will always be segregated by society.
Humans have always feared what is different, Izuku thought with some derision.
"You know who I am, but I don't know who you are," the lieutenant spoke with a steely glare. "Care to answer the previous question?"
Izuku tilted his head in feigned puzzlement.
"You would ask a man in a mask who they are? That would only defeat the purpose of a mask, 1st lieutenant. After all, why would a man wear a mask other than to hide who they are?"
Are you stupid, was what the heavy mocking in his voice implied. It was a message that the mercenary fully received if the rapid tick on his brow was anything to go by.
Izuku's amusement never left his being as he watched the CO calm himself. A familiar thwip entered his ears as his oblivious audience remained ignorant of what was truly happening.
The Kumoito he preferred to use was a weapon that emphasized heavy control and technique. Aside from a near-absolute spatial awareness and a talent for planning your actions for at least 20 moves ahead of time, perfect muscular control was needed to wield this weapon skilfully.
... Something that Izuku had in spades.
He saw the 1st Lieutenant calm himself after his SIC placed a hand on his shoulder. Though calm, he could still see the fires of anger in the Commanding Officer's eyes. He paid them no mind even as they began to speak as Izuku concentrated on the task he had set for himself.
... A star of crystalline blue shined brighter as the songs of gratitude filled his ears. It was a beautiful tune that filled his blackening soul with warmth even as it struggled in the confines of his sealing chains. Its light reached him and branded him with the power he had forged.
... His body lightened...
... His senses, stronger...
... He opened his shut eyes. He was ready...
Perfect Muscular Control
This was the ability he was currently utilizing to bring his skill with his chosen weapon to its fullest potential. His focus was consumed in its entirety as he controlled each individual muscle in his hand to bring about his desired design.
Guns were rapidly pointed at him.
Screams raised around him.
A scarred hand was raised in the air before it was dropped.
"Fire!"
His face was a mask of cool composure as his right index finger rapidly twitched and a mesh barrier blocked all attacks to his person and the hostages around him. It would not do if they were to die because he did not defend them; his mistress would not be pleased with him should that happen.
Sparks bloomed as bullets ricocheted into different directions. A split second was all that was needed as a brief pause to reload became the opening Izuku was waiting for to counter.
A small opening formed on the barrier as he sped through it with all his not-so-inconsiderable speed. His form was a blur to his enemies even as he closed the opening he had used. Muscles worked in synchrony as he squeezed all the power that they could give for greater strength and speed with utmost efficiency.
No unnecessary movements.
No wasted energy.
The greatest results for the least amount of power.
That was the way he had learned to fight. His body had been forged to be the ultimate shield and the strongest spear; he was meant to be the most lethal machine he could be for his Primary. Some may call his way as the Assassin's Path - and he would not deny it - but he had known no other way to fight.
It had been ingrained too deep within his body.
Illusionary waist length hair the color of blood, trailed behind him like the tail of a shooting star as he stepped in front of one of the mercenaries. Clawed hands gripped their stunned face as his hips twisted with great force, sending strength to his back and into his arms.
Dust flew in the air as the mercenary's head cratered the concrete floor.
Lifting his hand, Izuku saw the mercenary knocked out even as blood leaked through his seven orifices.
His left pinky twitched.
A storm of invisible steel responded.
Panicked screams rang out as his enemies were entangled within his web. Wounds appeared on their bodies even as some of them were flung to the air from blunt impacts. He personally moved among his enemies - dispatching them swiftly even as he weaved between bullets shot from their guns.
Each subtle movement of his fingers led to the incapacitation or deaths of his enemies.
Each step brought forth the feelings of terror for the unknown; for this demon did not move like a man, nor animal.
No man could be so illogical in his choices of targets for he would be in one end of the group only to move towards another farther target ignoring one of their comrades that was literally only a foot away from him. No animal would move as unnaturally as this thing would for it moved as if it were possessed; dancing like a puppet would as its strings moved their limbs.
Though unknown to his enemies, they were not wrong in their assumption.
Izuku leapt through the air only to be unnaturally moved to the side by a mysterious force as he dodged an attack from a quirk. His eyes darted to the side only to see a middle aged man aim his hand at him. There was a hole at the center of the palm and he could see a hint of white from its depths.
His eyes looked down and saw an uneven, white, conical object that he assumed was the result of the man's quirk. He took in its details in a split second and determined that it was bone.
He twisted his left wrist and rushed towards his newest target. Bone projectiles were fired towards him but he dodged them in unexpected angles - making his pattern all the more chaotic and unpredictable; the missed shots then turned into harmful friendly fires generating more chaos upon the battlefield as they harmed their comrades.
If one had sharp enough eyes, they would be able to see the slight shimmer that appeared everytime Izuku moved his body. If one focused on him intently, they would be able to see the slight twitches he made with his hands. If one were observant enough, they would be able to determine that his unpredictable movements coincided with every twitch his fingers or his wrists made.
Wires that could shear through steel blocks wrapped harmlessly over his limbs and body. Their touch were the gentle hands of an angel and they moved him as if it were the will of God. Such was the skill he had gained with the use of such an unorthodox weapon that they cut upon his will and strike with the bluntness of a hammer upon his desire.
He was a puppet to his own strings; his own puppet master.
Izuku twitched his right ring finger twice followed by his pointer then his middle and pinky fingers. His torso stiffened and he leaned back as he was propelled with great speed - multiplied by his own natural, quirk enhanced, speed - by his wires in order to maintain his balance.
His movement, which was a blur even before he amplified it with his weapon, became invisible to all but a select few. Those who could see him were those who had more experience in the field as they tracked him not by sight, but by the sound he made as he cut through the air.
Unnoticed, he arrived facing the back of his target as Izuku flattened his left hand into a knife hand with metallic claws glinting under the artificial light.
His limb flashed akin to lightning - and like the element there was nothing he could not pierce.
His knife hand met little resistance before it pierced straight through his target's heart and to the other side of their torso. The man gave out his last gurgle as Izuku pushed him off his arm and died shortly after.
He was a machine; made for decimating his enemies with unequaled speed, strength and ferocity. This was something Izuku acknowledged about himself and so he repeated this course of action again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again...
... Until it was enough. He turned around and saw the results of his attacks.
It was a slaughter.
A massacre.
A nightmare.
Out of the 30 mercenaries - not counting the Commanding Officer and the Second in Command - in the warehouse, sixteen are dead, twelve are incapacitated - injured, but alive - and two were still dodging frantically trying to stay away from their encroaching death.
A twitch of his finger, and his wires danced to a new tempo. The last two mercenaries were left behind as speed picked up and were subsequently cut apart by razor sharp wires.
Izuku looked around to see the aftermath of his attacks. It could only be called a disaster. Everywhere he turned, all he could see were ruins. A simple movement of his fingers caused this.
He caused this.
His mind remained impassive upon the scene of destruction that greeted him. Craters littered the concrete grounds and numerous cuts from his wires were left on the walls and floor and if he looked up, he would also see them up on the ceiling. Bullet holes could be found everywhere he looked except at the center of the warehouse where the hostages remained safe and secure; although they had long since been unconscious from since the fighting began.
As he looked over towards the unconscious hostages, Izuku couldn't help but wonder if this night would perhaps traumatize them. He didn't know and he hardly cared. In his mind, he only protected them since his mistress would be quite upset with him if he did not even try to save them.
A hand weakly gripped his ankle.
He looked down and saw a wounded woman weakly glaring with blurry eyes. Izuku recognized this woman as someone who was beside his latest target and had been wounded deeply by his wires.
"Y-you... D-... d-devil..."
Indifferently, he knelt next to the dying woman and grabbed the wrist of the hand holding him. He easily took it off of him and - with a gentleness not seen since before; he could not bear to disrespect the dead and dying - set it to her side.
"You're wrong,"
His voice was soft as he laid a gentle hand over the dead woman's eyes and closed them; letting her rest her eyes from the world - from the man - that took her life. His right hand drifted towards his chest, resting directly on top of where his heart is. He could feel a slight burning sensation as his fingers traced a shape beneath his clothes; his eyes drowned in reminiscence.
"'I am the dragon that will devour and usurp the gods... ' that is what they made me to be."
Izuku's words were whispers beneath his breath as he felt those ghostly fingers touch upon his face. He knew that they were not real, but he could not help but shiver at the phantom sensation.
Even after all these years... I still can't forget it, he thought.
No, that was a lie.
He didn't want to forget.
He didn't wish to forget.
He did not want to forget his memories even if they were horrible and he would never wish it upon his worst enemies. Why would he want to forget them when those memories were a part of who he is. These were the memories that made him who he is and are the proof of his existence; the cornerstone of his identity.
He had already forgotten so many memories from his past, he was unwilling to lose more.
Izuku Midoriya the Butler, would never be who he is without the memories - the experiences - that forged him. He would never know of the happiness he now possessed without those same experiences. In some way, he was even thankful that he had gone through what he had. If he had not, he would never have met all the others in his current life.
"... !"
His senses screamed.
A cold grasp lingered on his neck even as he felt phantom claws dig into his back.
His body acted before his mind caught up. Fingers rapidly moved as wires wrapped around his body and added the necessary speed to escape what should have been the unavoidable.
A high-pitched noise.
The sound of breaking glass.
The disintegration of his previous position.
Izuku took this all in within a split second - more than enough to bring himself out of reminiscence and to berate himself for his carelessness.
A tick grew on his right brow for forgetting that he was in a battlefield and that the battle was not over just because a majority of his foes are now dead. He landed on his feet only for his senses to blare once more and quickly sidestepped a long object that currently occupied the space his head was once in.
Muscles contracted simultaneously beneath his skin generating enough force to launch him 20 meters away from the object that he now knew was a bony tail that was extended into an exaggerated length and connected to the SIC who stood behind the 1st Lieutenant.
Various cuts littered their body.
Blood leaked from wounds of different severity.
If Izuku were to be honest, he was amazed they could even stand - let alone move - with how many injuries they had accrued. Their glares, though weary from exhaustion and blood loss, pierced through his physical shell and into his soul.
Such anger...
Such hatred...
Their eyes and spirit depicted a painting of resolve blended with the colors of their emotions right before him and he couldn't help but find it intriguing.
"Hoh,"
His curiosity was clear as he gazed upon their weary forms.
"To be able to stand in such a state is admirable, but to attack me even after being wounded quite heavily... it is worthy of respect."
"Shut up," 1st Lt. Yuri rasped with a heavy breath as he tried to stem the blood flow from his wounded side.
If eyes could kill(and in this mutated society filled with superpowers, who knew, really?) Izuku would have been turned into dust with how volatile their emotions are. He watched as the CO took a shaky step forward even as his SIC's tail retreated to his back, and take a stance for an attack.
"You killed them."
Yuri's whisper was like the cutting winds of winter made manifest within this tense situation.
"Yes, I did."
Izuku answered with a nonchalant air.
"Why?"
"Why, what? Why did I kill them? Are you that naive then to ask me such a question that you yourself know the answer to?"
He watched as Yuri's face twist into an expression he could not place. He could not call it anger for it was too cold, nor could he call it rage for its fires are hotter than the sun. Hatred was too lukewarm of a word to describe what Yuri must be feeling for him at this moment.
Patiently, he watched as the 1st Lieutenant raised his trembling hand - whether it was from the fury in his veins or if it was from exhaustion, Izuku did not know - and pointed it towards his direction.
Placidly, he watched as a corona of white light surrounded the appendage and warped the air around it even as it assaulted the ears of all that could hear it with its sharp oscillation.
"I will kill you."
It was stated in such a calm utterance that one would wonder if it was a threat at all, but Izuku knew the truth. It was not a threat, it was a promise; one that the 1st Lieutenant would fulfill here and now.
A benevolent smile appeared on his face as he spread his arms to the sides as if he was accepting a hug.
"Come."
()
It was mysterious how the sky changes when one is in different countries. The hazy sky of New York differed greatly to the generally clear skies of Japan. This difference was something that Suzuki enjoyed comparing during his business trips outside of his country of birth.
The sun was shining brightly as the backdrop of blue was decorated by sparse white clouds. It looked like it was going to be a sunny day and he could see the busy people of New York enjoying the remaining days of Summer.
Lifting the white mug in his hand, he took a deep sip of the thickly-colored coffee, allowing its bitter taste to seep into his tongue. Feeling a bit of his energy return to him, the Yaoyorozu Patriarch breathed out a deep sigh. He was exhausted.
Although he was not sleepy, his brain was slightly fuzzy; after all, he had practically no sleep since he had arrived in New York.
That was 3 days ago.
Since then, sleep had evaded him and stress plagued his every moment as he had been busy trying to prevent more of his subordinates for falling into a very messy corporate war. And there was no mistaking what was happening, this was a war Suzuki was fighting.
How troublesome, he thought.
Leaning back on his leather seat, Suzuki allowed himself to sink into its surface as he closed his eyes and tap his temple slightly. The other occupant of the master bedroom saw this and asked in concern,
"Are you alright, Suzuki-san? You haven't been sleeping."
He smiled warmly at the show of affection and concern.
"I'm fine, my love. I should be asking you that? You have been running around busily everywhere, right?"
"Unlike you, dear," a small playful glare was on Hiyori's face. "I have been able to get a few hours of sleep and rest everyday."
Though they had simultaneously said they were fine, they realized neither of them sounded very energetic at all, giving each other wry smiles. Hiyori approached her husband and sat down on his lap as he set down his coffee mug atop a coffee plate on a small, white table beside his seat. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Hiyori leaned back against his chest and placed her hand upon the arms that wrapped around her waist.
Looking out towards the bustling city through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, they both looked the part of a relaxed couple as they were both dressed in nothing but their bath robes and fuzzy slippers; compliments of the hotel.
It had been a busy couple of days for the both of them. The stresses of leadership, of management, it was all coming on to them. They have borne through the hardships and stresses of leading a global conglomerate in its current crisis for three months with hardly any breaks; the only time they could relax was when they were at home in the company of their daughter.
Even then, it was a rare opportunity.
Nuzzling her head against her husband's chest, Hiyori turned to look up upon his face, a small happy smile on her lips. He smiled as she lay small, butterfly kisses on his cheek and enjoyed the affectionate gesture - rare as it was done during these busy times.
"Come to bed," she said in between sweet kisses. "If you force yourself too much, your mind won't be able to work as it should during crucial moments. Even if you can't sleep, laying your body down and closing your eyes, would make a world of difference."
Suzuki chuckled and allowed himself to be moved by his wife towards their shared bed. A playful shove pushed him over the covers and a curtain of glossy night fell over his eyes as he stared at his wife; a coy smile was on her face as she straddled him.
He reached out and tenderly cupped her cheek and said,
"What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"... You loved me, that was what you did."
Hiyori laid atop of him and hid her face in the crook of his neck, praying that he did not notice the warmth suffusing her cheeks; unfortunately, she forgot that he was still able to see the tips of her ears gain a pink tinge. A happy flutter in his chest, he was glad that he was still able to fluster his wife so, even after almost 20 years of marriage.
Suzuki did as he was asked and closed his eyes to rest, something that Hiyori noticed as she reached to the nightstand and grabbed a small remote.
It was a small, 4-inch device with only two visible buttons. Pressing the topmost button, their bedroom noticeably darkened as the floor-to-ceiling slowly turned opaque. In this darkened room, the rustling of sheets were heard as the pair of husband and wife settled beneath their blankets. Not counting the previous three months of hectic preparations and counterattacks, the past three days have been nothing but exhausting.
We're going to have a lazy day today!, was what Hiyori determinedly thought. Certainly they deserved a little bit of rest?
Although he could not see her through the darkness, Suzuki could still feel the raw determination of his adorable wife and struggled to hold in his chuckles; knowing that she would not appreciate it. Shifting his position, he settled in spooning his wife to his chest.
He heard, more than felt, his wife's breathing slow as she quietly returned to the land of dreams. Still unable to sleep, he stroke her hair and rested his eyes, yet his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He kept thinking of ideas to better his company, thoughts of how to protect his interests and employees, and most importantly, he worried for his family.
He was aware.
He knew that at this moment, his daughter - his Light of Joy - had almost been kidnapped. He had seen the latest news from his home country courtesy of the 2nd Lt. Rito Yamada, who had reported to him late yesterday after he had given his report on the investigation he had been tasked with. Suzuki still felt his chest tighten with worry over the memory of watching the news anchor report on the incident as his mind looped over the worst case scenarios.
It was only when Momo's name didn't come up in the list of missing guests did the knot in his chest loosen.
She is safe, he reminded himself once more.
She is safe.
She is safe.
This was the mantra he repeated in his head as quelled the rising worry he was feeling. There was nothing wrong and everything was alright; his daughter's safety was assured. The knowledge that someone strong and competent was protecting his most precious treasure was enough to assure him. Suzuki knew that Izuku would protect Momo with his life.
He leaned down and pressed his lips upon a sleeping Hiyori's forehead, causing her to snuggle deeper in his embrace. He loved his family. There was no truer thing in the world than that. Should something happen to either his wife or daughter, he would burn the world in recompense.
Luckily, there was no need to do so.
Deliberately, he turned his mind away from this line of thought; knowing that his worries will continue to rise endlessly. Best to not think about it tonight, he decided. Thoughts turned towards the perpetrator of this most recent corporate war.
HeavyArms Industries.
He had heard of them before; brows scrunched as he thought about the small EAD parts manufacturer. Although they were a small company, they were extremely profitable as they are one of the most reliable manufacturers of custom EAD parts necessary for many Heroe's support equipment. He had heard and known them to be a personable entity that does its best for its clients without compromising the company's interests and the client's. He had even thought of partnering with them for some projects before, but...
Inwardly - as to not disturb his wife's slumber with his displeasure - his face twisted in distaste. Bribery, blackmail, sabotage, kidnappings, extortion, even murder; these were all highlighted within the 2nd lieutenants reports and investigations.
Truly, the purest face hides the darkest thoughts, he thought. BlackWatch's intelligence officer was thorough in his investigations and had uncovered a lot of secrets that the seemingly virtuous facade had left in the dark. Now, that darkness will be brought into the light.
Suzuki was never one to suffer attacks upon his person or his interests - much less to that of his family. HeavyArms wanted the secrets to his creation, but he will never surrender such dangerous knowledge. He knew the dangers the world would face should knowledge about the creation process of Vibranium come out and land into the wrong hands.
A shiver lightly touched upon his body, earning a frown on his lovely Hiyori's lips, something that he immediately calmed with iron will as he comforted his wife into sweeter dreams. His body calm, he still could not bury the fear that wormed into his heart. He had not made the claim that Vibranium was the most versatile material in the world lightly. He knew the metal more than he knew himself and thus he knew what it could be applied in, what it could do. It was supernatural in a way that could not be explained; as if it were something that was not meant for mortal hands, and yet he had brought it here into this world all to fulfill a childish fantasy.
To its creator, it was a miracle given form - one that will advance humanity should they be given a chance and careful guidance. And yet, it could also be the opposite of what it could be. It would be the nightmare to its own miracle, the despair to its own hope. If they ever discover Vibranium's most destructive capabilities...
He was afraid it would be humanity's destruction.
A hand touched the side of his face and broke him from his thoughts. His lids parted showing dilated pupils within a pool of gold as he looked down and drowned within the calm darkness of his wife's eyes. He calmed down; it was unknown to him when he had begun to hyperventilate nor when his heart began to beat so fast.
"Are you alright now?" his wife asked as she continued to caress his face in calming strokes. "You were having a panic attack and I could feel your fear. What is happening, dear?"
Her hands were glowing in a kaleidoscopic light as he took a deep breath and heaved a great sigh. His arms tightened around her as he took her closer to his chest. He buried his nose into her hair and took in her scent; feeling the comfort spread throughout his body.
"Nothing," he murmured into her hair, basking in the comfort her mere presence gave him. This was one of the reasons why he loved her so much. Her merely existing, was enough to give him his own small share of happiness. "It was nothing."
Her head moved and she looked up to him and glared straight into his eyes. He found the sight adorable as his wife never really had a scary bone in her body, but the emotions of hurt and anger reflected in her obsidian pools prevented him from going through that thought.
"Why are you lying to me?"
"Hiyori... " widened eyes looked into hers as the hurt grew more.
Her hand, glowing in a multitude of colors, glowed brighter as she moved it from his cheek to the center of his chest. Her touch was searing in its intensity and electrifying to his senses. He felt his heart beat harder beneath bone and muscle and he wasn't sure that it was not visible from outside with how hard it tried to escape his chest.
"I can feel your fear; the uneasiness in your chest and the worry that permeates your every breath," she whispered with her eyes closed as if in a trance. " I can feel your anger. I can feel the burning hatred, the desire to avenge the fallen and to defend what you considered yours. I can feel you, Suzuki-san, so why are you lying to me?"
She opened her eyes and the hurt in them was heartbreaking as was her sincerity. There were many mistakes Suzuki had done in his life, but to him, those unshed tears in his wife's eyes was the greatest crime he had ever committed.
Empathy.
The larger the area of bare skin she touched, the more detailed was her grasp on the emotions she could read off another person. By placing her hand above the heart and right at the center of another person's chest, rather than reading another's emotions it borders on the ability to read their thoughts instead. This was the ability that his wife wielded; and it was one that she was currently using on him, taking in his emotions and processing them as if they were her own.
"Do you not trust me?"
He could hear the sheer heartbreak within her voice though it remained calm. Throat freezing, eyes widening, he could not move fast enough as he enveloped his wife in his arms; his heart tearing into pieces as he heard her light sobs. That's not it! I trust you with everything I have!, he wanted to say but his frozen throat could not voice it out.
"Why do not let me help you?" her tears spilled on to his bare chest; the robe long pulled open by her hands. She looked into his eyes - red and watery - portraying a sense of helplessness that he had never seen in his Hiyori before.
"I am your wife, am I not?"
You are!, he wanted to scream. He will never allow her to doubt what she means to him. Hiyori Futaba is Hiyori Yaoyorozu, wife of Suzuki Yaoyorozu. That is a fact that is set in stone - no, it was carved into the Earth's core. I love you!, he tightened his embrace, trying to let her know of this fact through his body.
"Then why do you not let me bear your burdens with you?" she asked, her tears now dry.
"Suzuki-san, I have assisted you with your endeavors; all of them. I have been with you from when you started your company until now and with every crisis that we experience. I am your wife Suzuki-san, for better or worse in sickness or in health; I am here to bear your burdens with you. Why won't you let me hear of your worries?"
It's because I am scared!, raised in humility, Suzuki still had a modicum of pride. It was this pride that was not letting him voice out his reasons. It was pride in his accomplishments, pride in his stalwart drive to succeed; he had remained on his road to success, never wavering, never faltering and so, to admit that he feared the reason of his successes... it was shameful.
Even the greatest of saints had their own flaws.
He couldn't speak, and yet he never needed to. Hiyori's glowing hand had never left his chest. His emotions flowed into her as his thoughts became her's. She could see into his reasons, the deepest desires and emotions of his heart. She saw his predicament and was saddened that he could not tell her himself. Her hand moved from his chest and on to his face once more; brushing away the creases on his brow as she affectionately nuzzled her nose to his chin.
"I am your wife, Suzuki-san," her tone was exasperated as she repeated what should have been obvious to her husband. "I am your wife. I am the one person who will not judge you for your troubles. I am your shoulder to cry on, your pillar to lean on. I am your other half, the one to share your burdens and the first one to aid you - I am your wife, Suzuki-san."
The soft look in her eyes crumbled any defenses he may have had as he let her in to his heart. He watched as a smile appeared on her lovely face, knowing that he had accepted her words.
"I've been an idiot, haven't I?" he asked as he laid his own hand on the one on his cheek.
She giggled and raised her other hand to her eyes and she said as she held them up with a small space between her forefinger and thumb, "Just a little bit."
Suzuki opened his mouth - about to tell his worries - when a thin, index finger laid itself atop his lightly parted lips. He looked at the perpetrator and was greeted with a happy, yet red-eyed, smile.
"Tonight, we will need to rest. We will talk about this tomorrow and we will solve it, okay dear?"
Amused, he lightly nodded at his wife before pulling her back into his chest and rested his chin atop her head. They relaxed within the warm confines of their blankets and soft mattress while he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Three o'clock in the afternoon; the numbers blinked lazily in its digital display.
"Together?" he asked into her hair.
He felt her smile as she went deeper into his embrace, "Together." As always, his wife was right.
()
Intuition screamed as another invisible death headed for him. High-pitched noises reverberated within his ears as he rushed forward and engaged the Tail-Quirk user who met his fist with their own. Izuku ignored the way concrete and glass shards turned to dust behind him as fists were exchanged and kicks were returned. A flattened hand flashed towards his torso, aimed straight at his solar plexus and a menacing tail aimed at his heart from behind; his left pinky twitched.
"W-what the - !?"
He heard the SIC's surprised exclamation yet he put no mind nor attention to it. Wires that could shear through steel harmlessly wrapped around the flashing limbs, even as it blocked another strike by a tail aimed at his kidneys. Another twitch of his finger and his opponent was pulled to the side with terrifying force and was thrown to the only wall in the warehouse left unmarred. It cracked and rubble and dust flew into the air.
Death nipped at his heels and Izuku jumped to the side just as a visible distortion passed by him in a dull roar; shattering all in its path. He spun to his left deflecting a kick, that had he been any other person, it may have just knocked him flat on his back. He waved his hand and cutting steel followed its path forcing his current foe to disengage.
"Tch. Those wires are getting annoying."
Yuri muttered underneath his breath as he took in precious air through his mouth. He rushed towards his opponent with glowing hands and swiped them towards Izuku. Hands that he knew could turn concrete into dust reached for his head, but he ducked below their grasping digits even as his ears were assaulted with high-pitched noises that turned his vision blurry.
He ignored the way his vision swayed as his left hand snapped towards his foe's outstretched right arm and pushed it upwards. Fingers clenched on the wrist tightly causing Yuri to flinch as Izuku stepped inwards to his side. The earth was crushed beneath his feet with Perfect Muscular Control aiding him in his attack as all his muscles worked in perfect synchrony as they transferred the earth's energy into his body. His right arm was a flash of lightning as his elbow crushed into Yuri's sternum with unyielding force; transferring the collective energy generated by his body and that of the earth, "Six Grand Opening - Elbow Upthrust."
Eyes bulged and veins popped as Yuri silently screamed. He could feel the excruciating pain from the blow permeate his entirety as his mind blanked and his vision turned white. He felt his heart stopped beating as tiny ruptures erupted beneath his skin; turning it into a patchwork of blue and black. He hung on to Izuku's elbow in what seemed to be eternity before reality asserted itself and he was blasted back for a considerable distance, opposite his subordinate, in deep agony.
Wires invisible to the naked eye formed a new shape under Izuku's masterful control as they weaved into the ceiling, walls and floor and wrapped around his arms. His arms tensed and his wires stretched as if they were rubber bands. His eyes locked with those of Yuri's - pained black, meeting placid emerald. Tensed muscles relaxed and, like a shooting star, he sped towards his opponent.
These are some pretty good wires. I wonder if Yaoyorozu-dono would be willing to make me a few more spools?, he was calm if his idle thought had been anything to go by. His opponent reacted with impressive speed - even as injured as he was - and thus was able to block Izuku's punch with his forearms. He saw his opponent grimace - Izuku then knew that he had broken his foe's arms - before he was blasted back by a wall of force unseen to the naked eye or to those who were not equipped to see it.
He stifled an irritated groan within his throat as he did not want to display weakness to his enemies. Hands stretched out to his sides as he heard the spools of wire on the back of his gloved hands spin under mechanized help, shooting forth a new length of wire that he needed. Wires wrapped around his body - he intended to stabilize himself in mid-air - only for his concentration to be shattered by loud cracks.
Time slowed down.
His eyes widened as his senses heightened, reflexes rose, his heart pounding in his chest like a stampede of wildebeest as dopamine and adrenaline flooded the pathways of his life-liquid. Izuku's perception of time slowed, eyes wide as he watched six bullets pave their paths towards his vulnerable flesh.
His vision traced their paths and saw their origin; the foe he had knocked to a wall, was now kneeling on the ruined floor and was aiming a gun at him. Where did he get that, he asked himself. His eyes took in the determined visage on an evilly grinning face, he absorbed into his mind the determination - the victory - in his eyes; so sure that it was his win. That confidence, that surety, that absolute belief that fate had favored them and had set this conclusion into stone...
... He wanted to SHATTER them.
... The anger of a bursting star had branded itself into his soul. How dare they contemplate hurting its master? How dare they desire his death? How dare they dream of his defeat!? It will show them! It will show them all, its master was the one who ruled everything under the heavens and above the earth!...
... Light filled his World-that-did-not-exist and power shaped by the will of a single charge and the contemplations of man formed under unseen hands. Light darkened and mist enveloped. It was a star ethereal, bewitching, and mysterious in its form. It was not the blinding lights of the other charges beside it, no, this was not the power of domination nor was it the surge of supremacy. No, this was the power to make its master untouchable by all those unworthy of his magnificence - his divinity. A shadow of a shadow of a shadow it might become, it was surely enough...
... It was more than enough...
His heart beat loud within his ears, pulses fast with the rush of blood as the familiar sensation of power filled his being. Time resumed its own pace as everything accelerated within his eyes. Danger, danger, danger, danger, his own instincts blared loudly within his mind, willing him to move from the path of danger yet he knew... he knew that if he moved, survivability would drop to zero percent!
Muscles locked up, breathing stopped, heart stopping a beat; he ignored his instincts to move and pinned such impulses down with a steel will. Animalistic desire and instincts warred with machine-like logic. Ingrained desire for survivability conflicted with assured declaration of logic but in the end, logic had won.
One to the head, two to the heart, one to the liver, two to the kidneys, had he been any other person, most would find this impossible to avoid and death would surely have him in its hands. No, anyone else in his position would have given up hope and resigned themselves to their end... to death. But no, not today - death will not have his soul on this day. From the corner of his eyes he saw the former Commanding Officer stand complacent, sure that this was his end. The fool did not even bother preparing an attack in case this fails.
So overconfident, he thought with a sardonic smile in his head. Where do they get such surety? I would love breaking that illusion of theirs. His vision locked towards his foe, even until the end, the calm, mocking smile on his lips never moved. He continued to look at his enemy, then, his sight went dark.
()
Yuri was impassive as bullets tore through his previous opponent; eyes never even returning to the red-haired demon he had fought as he approached his Second in Command. Gingerly, he moved towards his subordinate while taking care not to jostle his left arm - or his upper torso, really - too much. Although brief, the exchange with their opponent had been troublesome. A grimace briefly appeared on his face as he remembered the mobility employed by that menace and their capabilities in matching him.
"Fucking wires," he grumbled beneath his breath before his lungs froze in his chest as pain exploded from deep within. He stuttered in his steps and took deep breaths; waiting for the pain to subside. "Damn it."
His chest throbbed with another exclamation. He could feel every breath he took as if they were blades that entered his lungs. His legs shook from the pain that he experienced in the effort of keeping himself alive. Looking towards where that red demon had laid dead, his eyes darkening with malicious intentions and wished that he had been alive so that he could inflict a more painful death towards this person. Alas the demon was dead, the enemy defeated and laid on his feet! No one could survive having bullets shot in their head, heart, liver and kidneys.
Not without a defensive or a high-speed regenerative quirk anyway, he thought. From what he saw, their enemy had a Speed Enhancement quirk based on the feats of extreme speed he had seen; disappearing from sight and blurring in motion, even to the eyes of those like him whose body and reactions were more advanced in comparison to the quirkless population and those gifted with weaker quirks. Even when he didn't use those infernal wires, his enemy was fast enough to evade him and surpass his reaction speed.
Slowly, Yuri staggered on his feet, swaying a little as he moved onwards towards his kneeling subordinate. It had taken him some time but he had reached him. He inspected his form and saw that he was fine even if he was banged up. Bruises and cuts littered his body, bleeding in different areas, but Alek looked okay. He would heal fine should he be given a little time to rest unlike how he was currently. Looking down at himself, he could only lament that he would have to spend quite a lot of time at the PMC hospital. He lightly shivered at the thought of spending an extended period of time inside those white walls.
I might go crazy from all the white, he considered.
Alek tiredly turned his head towards his superior officer after hearing him approach and had to double take after seeing his current condition. His shirt was in tatters and was more fitting to call it a rag as various bruises littered his body as if he had spilled black and blue ink on himself. He could see the unevenness in Yuri's arms and the slight trembling of his fingers indicating that they had been broken and that his CO was enduring their pain. Seeing his chest, he had struggled to keep his bile in his throat.
It was a mess.
No, calling it a mess was a severe understatement. How is he still standing or alive for that matter!?, was his frantic thought as he paled in terror. Yuri's chest caved inwards with multiple bumps beneath the skin telling him that his entire sternum had been broken. Alek paled in terror as in the first time in his life, he was thankful for a Quirked's enhanced biology for otherwise his CO was a dead man as he said, "You look like shit, sir."
"I feel like shit too," Yuri lightly laughed - not wishing to aggravate his already severe wounds - at his subordinates understated words. A silence stretched between them, a product of finally realizing that they were out of the fire and the relief in the reality that they had survived and won against a powerful opponent.
He sighed.
"Is it over?" he mumbled with a breathy tone. Alek slumped in his position as his muscles all but practically collapsed into themselves as if unable to believe that he had gone through that battle alive; battered, but alive. He felt his CO delicately lower himself on to the floor as he moved his tail on his lap.
He was exhausted.
They were exhausted.
They both wanted to collapse right where they are but both knew that this was not the place to relax and recoup their lost strength. Heroes were still on their tails as were the police, and seeing as this place had just been the site of a large commotion, they would figure out that they were here soon. Turning towards their intended hostages, all of whom are still unconscious, Yuri wanted to just see if his quirk could disintegrate them as he had never done it on a living being before but decided that doing so would paint an even larger target at their backs; not worth the trouble, at all.
"Hey Lieutenant," Alek called out to him. His tone was informal as were his words - he was far too laden with bone-deep exhaustion to maintain his usually formal and polite demeanor. "What made you think that taking this mission was a good idea again?"
His response was as deadpan as his face, "Stupidity and insufficient impulse control."
Alek chuckled at his dry response. Truly, there were no words that could fit the situation better. He knew that there were better units that could have taken this job with half the time his could have taken with an even better result. He had previously mentioned that his platoon was not the cloak and dagger type - they were the ride-with-the-thunder-guns-blazing-lunatics. They were not equipped with the skill or resources for such delicate operations, he knew that and yet, he was still goaded into accepting this mission.
Gazing out into the open space before him, he took in the blood-covered floors, the torn wall, the crumbling ceiling, he took in the dead bodies of his subordinates. This was the result of his stupidity - of his rash decision. His heart grew heavy as the consequences of his actions had finally settled in and sadness came to the forefront of his mind. Anger came too, for all the lives lost needlessly and for the one who reaped those lives.
He sighed heavily and tried to stand from his seat with Alek supporting him, "There is no need to linger here any longer. We need to get away before the local heroes arrive." His subordinate nodded at his side as he tried to aid the CO.
The world screamed in alarm as its gentle touch, like that of his lover, heralded the release of his soul.
MOVE!
His instincts forced him to move but his heavily injured body could not accept the sudden movement as pain assaulted him with twice the intensity he had tried to ignore. A short scream of agony came out of his mouth. His knees buckled in pain and he fell, yet an invisible force held him and Alek up. He was unable to turn his head nor was he able to move any part of his body. His subordinate was in the same predicament and they were fully bound by whatever held them. He tried to move his arm only for a cut to appear on his damaged skin. Blood dripped from the deep but non-life threatening wound.
"Guh...!"
Alek grunted in discomfort as the force on his neck tightened when he tried to move his tail. Pain burst from the small of his back as a cut appeared on the base of his tail. He tried to struggle but he could not release himself from his binds. His eyes twisted in his head as he scowled. Black and white eyes flickered to and fro, looking for anything that might clue him in what may be restraining him. A slight, silver sheen appeared in the corner of his vision and as he focused on what it was, dread settled in his stomach. It was thin, incredibly so, yet it did not give off the feeling of being fragile rather it had the atmosphere of something that would cut you with the lightest touch.
"No...," he whispered as lead weighed in his chest making it hard to breathe. Terror swam within his eyes as he gazed on what should have been a dead man.
Why...
A hand was raised and settled on the back of their neck. A quick twist, and a loud Crack! echoed within the silent warehouse. Red hair, like burning fire, shifted in response to the sudden movement.
Why, won't you stay dead?!
Eyes of burnished gold glimmered in sadistic amusement, finding the horror in their faces to his satisfaction. Lips parted in a toothy smile, displaying his fangs for all to see; it resembled the expressions predators wear in fron of weakened prey.
"Hmhmhm," it chuckled beneath its breath. "I think, I know how it works now."
Yuri snapped from his horror induced stupefication at those words; a question on the tip of his tongue but he could not voice them for his throat was still frozen from shock. How? How was he still alive? No one should have survived getting shot to his vitals but here he was, this demon, hale and hearty like nothing had ever happened. He did not have a High-Speed Regeneration Quirk, so how did he rise from the dead!?
"You want to know how I'm still alive, yes?" he asked after seeing the question burning in their eyes. "You both made a grave mistake. You did not check if I was really dead. That should have been the first thing you did after shooting me."
"How... " was Yuri's horrified whisper. Confusion, hatred, terror, and slight bits of awe colored his tone as he looked at the demon that was slain. "How did you survive... ? Nobody could have survived that. Nobody couLD HAVE SURVIVED GETTING SHOT IN THE HEAD! SO HOW!? YOU DIDN'T POSSESS A REGENERATION QUIRK SO HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! TELL ME-GHK!?"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Careful there 1st Lt. Yuri Petrov. You shouldn't be so hysterical, you will worsen your wounds, you know?"
There was remorseless grin on its face as it mocked him. Yuri had aggravated his wounded chest with his hysterical shouts causing the fragments of bone within to damage his organs more which led to the copious amounts of blood he had expelled. Izuku was indifferent in regards to the damage his prey had caused to himself. All that was in his mind was the thought of his newest ability granted onto him by his quirk.
"By the way, allow me to correct you on your erroneous statement," he waved his hands in a grand gesture, partly in theatrics and partly in intimidation, causing the numerous wires he controlled to tighten themselves painfully on their captives making them grunt in discomfort.
Golden eyes shined eerily under the moonlight seeping from the broken roof and ceiling. Orbs that once held such intense emotions even if they were sadistic amusement and humour, blanked; their shine gone, leaving only a hollow imitation of the windows to the soul as if a mask had finally been discarded. They were cold, so cold, that Alek felt his heart freeze within his chest. The smile that had once been thought to be devilishly handsome upon his masked face appeared fragile...
It was dangerous...
It was Broken.
Like staring into a reflection in a shattered mirror, it was still the same smile but it had been fractured and flaws had never been more evident than before. With blank eyes and broken smile, this red demon had never looked inhuman than now. Lips stretched widely and empty eyes crinkled in a parody of emotion as he opened his mouth and spoke,
"Since when were you under the impression that I was not capable of regeneration?"
The Golden Apple of Idunn
This was what he had decided to name his newest ability. It was named after the magical golden apples tended by the Norse Goddess Idunn that were able to grant the Gods their eternal youth and immortality. Although he had given this ability such a lofty name, it did not share anything with the mythical golden apples aside from their title. His new ability was not so miraculous as such that it had granted him immortality, not even High-Speed Regeneration that could only be found in comic books, rather, this ability was something that could only be called as a Personal Time Reversal. This new ability reversed time as it was experienced by his body; rewinding it to the past before it had suffered the injuries that it had and thus erasing the 'past ' and presenting a new 'future'.
Planeswalker, Ghost Walker and before that Frame, Perfect Control, and now The Golden Apple of Idunn. Four charges out of Five - it seems that I have spent my charges more tonight than I have for the past few months, he thought. How troublesome. Have I grown soft in my training?
Yuri's body glowed white and the machine on his back generated a high-pitched noise. He glared fiercely at the empty demon before him as he built up the power of his quirk as high as he could. Even if he was tied up, as long as a single finger was free, he would be able to use his quirk. As the noise built up in a quick crescendo - "Haven't I said it before? I had already figured it out." - he fired the strongest blast he had made till date.
A loud shattering sound resounded and a shockwave comparable to explosions made by bombs created rubble out of any remaining decent sized pieces of cement. Dust blew into the air in great clouds covering everything in sight, and he panted in severe exhaustion ignoring the whining of machinery and the sparks arcing from the mechanical pack on his back.
"That should be enough... right?" he murmured beneath his breath. He could not feel anything on his skin so that should mean that the wires binding him had finally loosened? Feeling nothing, a smile broke out on his face as he turned towards his only remaining subordinate. He opened his mouth and said -
"That was quite powerful. I would have been in trouble if, I had previously said, I had not figured out how it works already," a voice called out from beyond the great billowing clouds of dust. A masculine silhouette appeared from beyond with swaying waist-length hair.
Pain erupted in Yuri's being as he choked, unable to breathe from the constriction of his throat. He could hear gagging noises from beside him and he could only guess that Alek must have been going through the same thing as him. The dust finally cleared and his eyes - wide from the constricting vice upon his neck - widened further in disbelief. His heart shattered in his chest as he took in the image before him. H-how... how is he undamaged from all that power?!
Empty eyes glinted with a slight amusement as he took in the disbelief that was directed at him, "If you could not understand what I mean, then I will be more direct. I had already figured out how your Quirk works."
Shocked was an understatement of what he felt as he continued to choke while looking at the monster before him who stood in front of now conscious hostages.
"Your Quirk is the manipulation of Moderate Vibrations," Izuku continued. "From what I had been able to gather from our brief bout, you are able to absorb oscillations into your body and use the stored vibrations as a form of attack. That thing on your back, it is an amplifier, is it not? I could gather that it is meant to be an EAD that enhances your ability to attack and absorb Vibrations; and what is sound other than the vibrations in the air?"
Yuri was now beyond shock and was currently in a daze. The corners of his vision darkened and his lungs begged him for fresh air, but he knew that it was impossible. He had lost.
"The wires on your body, they not only serve the purpose of restraining you, but with the way I weaved them, they are able to absorb your output vibrations and redirect them somewhere else - say, the ground perhaps?"
His body was feeling sluggish. His mind was faint. The blood in his body was slow; he was feeling cold. His ears could no longer hear things properly, but he could still hear his killer's next words clearly,
"You were a good opponent and decently powerful. You also seem to be a decent person and I would have loved to be your acquaintance, but I am afraid that this would simply be a passing thought; an unreal fantasy. After all, you had committed the greatest sin any human could have made," his vision was black and his consciousness had been fading, yet he felt colder than even when the hand of death took hold on his soul.
"You dared to touch my mistress. You dared contemplate harming her. Now, fall. Fall into the darkness of never-ending sleep. Fall into the void of your dreams. Lament your failures and regret your sins. Pray for the Gods to forgive you for I never will. Pray that the Gods have mercy on your soul for I never will. Fall, fall to the darkness beyond life. I wish you a good trip to eternal suffering."
This were the last words that Yuri heard as darkness claimed his soul; Alek, his subordinate, having fallen long before him. He kicked and screamed, he cursed and cursed yet Death's hold on him never let go.
3:47 AM on the last days of summer, 1st Lt. Yuri Petrov of Equilibrium died with terror forever etched on his face as he choked to death.
()
It was only 30 minutes later that the Heroes arrived followed by the police. What greeted them was a scene that would be etched into their minds as one of utmost horror. Blood covered every surface and bodies littered everywhere the eye could see. It was a scene of macabre art and a realization of numerous nightmares with two hanged people as the centerpiece of these perverted grounds. The only spot free of blood had been filled with shivering and traumatised hostages - the missing guests from the annual Charity Ball.
Memories of this night will forever be etched into the minds of each and every person who had stepped into that ruined structure. As the traumatised victims were questioned on what had happened, only one thing would ever pass their lips before fainting out of sheer terror...
Aka-oni...
Satan...
Lucifer...
Many appellations passed their lips, but they were all clear on one thing:
Beware, the Demon of Red with Eyes of Gold roam to pass judgement upon all sinners. God has forsaken his people and has let his Judge and Executioner walk among us all, Beware. Beware the Demon of Red with Eyes of Gold!
(-)
AN: I am disappointed with this chapter. I tried to revise this so many times and this is what came out. I tried to do better with the fight scenes, that I rewrote them for so many times but, well, as you can see, this is the result.
I am very disappointed.
This is my first fight scene I have ever tried to write so please go easy on me. Leave your favorites, follows and reviews on the comment section below. Peace.