Author's Notes: So hey, this will officially have 44 chapters total. Wild, huh?
Even though she knew it was pointless, Uraraka had allowed herself to be whisked away to the second safe house. It didn't matter. Deku wouldn't come back. She could've stayed in her apartment and nothing would've happened. He wouldn't bother her there anymore. She didn't know what to think. On one hand, her heart broke every time she pictured him backing away from her and stepping into the window to disappear from her life. On the other, she was resigned to this fate.
It would always come down to this. They had done what they could to avoid it, but every road led here. It was bumpy and with far too many sharp turns, but this was the path they traveled. This could only end in one final confrontation that would either push Deku deeper into the abyss past the point of no return or bring him back into the light. Either way, it wouldn't be the end. They would have to deal with him one way or another, good or bad, and she would.
"I don't see why I had to leave. He's not going to hurt me. He promised he wouldn't."
Uraraka sighed. How many times had she argued this same thing with someone else? "I don't think he would either, but it's better to be safe. With you somewhere far away and safe, we don't have to worry about you as much. Protecting, saving, and fighting at the same time is difficult."
Kota frowned petulantly like any child would. "I know that, but… I feel useless out here."
She understood how Kota felt more than he realized. Despite being in the thick of it, she didn't feel much better than him. What had she done since everything started? She hadn't done a damn thing. In fact, if she was honest with herself, she might've done more harm than good. Maybe she should've relocated out of the city too. Maybe she should've sacrificed herself. That would've taken half of Deku's motivation out of the picture.
Bakugou would scold her fiercely for such thinking and Todoroki would no doubt tell her everything he believed she'd done, but it was hard not to think. She had been with Deku - she'd held him in her arms, ran her fingers through his hair, spoken with him, kissed him - and he'd only fallen further into the quirk's effects. She had made things worse by giving him hope. Taking it away would be brutal for both of them.
"It's normal to feel that way - I've felt it too when the authorities insist I stay hidden for my own good - but this is not your responsibility," Uraraka told him gently. "We're the heroes. It's up to us to take care of this."
"I can do something though!" Kota insisted, stubborn as ever. "I know I can! You saw him at the park. When I used my quirk to stop him from hurting Bakugou, he changed. You saw it. I can help."
Uraraka fought the urge to smile. Such youthful optimism - she remembered feeling that way. Maybe she'd even still felt like that in the beginning of this mess. For as long as she'd known him, Deku had always made her feel like everything was possible. He was a light shining in the dark, an inspiration to everyone around him. Whether it was his classmates, his teachers, or a boy who had lost faith, he was a hero. He could save the world; she could save him. It didn't matter. If he was involved, she could take on anything for him. They would save the day.
However, it was painful to even hope for that now, even for her.
"I know you want to help," Uraraka said, "and it's an admirable trait, but right now, it's best for you to stay out of this. Let us do our jobs."
"But...you saw it…" Kota screwed his face up in an expression so distressed that it looked painful. "You saw him. It was him." He dropped his gaze and his shoulders sagged, sadness clouding over him. "I just thought… If we could remind me of the hero he is - if I could bring him back - I could save him...like he saved me. He didn't just save my life. He changed it. If I could do the same for him..."
Kota was still a child. He was only in middle school, but he already wanted to do so much. That was the effect Deku had on people, even when he didn't try. He was so inspiring. He had always been a bright force to reckon with. Even villains had struggled to combat his tenacious personality. Hell, the villains he worked with now seemed to lean to him. If Mizuki's voice on the phone was anything to go by, the moment Dabi had started to spiral, they had gone directly to him. Ikeda had wanted to take Uraraka out for him.
It was hard not to be taken in by Deku. She certainly hadn't managed to stop herself, not that she'd wanted to except to cut out any distractions. His passion was contagious. All those years he'd kept to himself and was held down, the moment he was given a chance to breathe above the surface, he started his rise to the top. Of course Kota wanted to do the same for him. If not for Deku, he would've undoubtedly been dead. There would have been no one to save him from the same fate that had befallen his parents.
He couldn't just let Deku go. No matter what footage was leaked, no matter what people said he did, no matter what he had seen himself, Kota clung to that tiny bit of light that shined from Deku.
Shame flared in Uraraka's mind. Why was she struggling to do the same? Was it simply because she'd seen more? Did she truly know better? Deku would've held onto that hope until the very end, as he had when he'd risked absolutely everything to take out that villain and then save her. There hadn't been any fear or grief on his face over the fate he knew he was going to suffer. They'd locked eyes and she'd seen the acceptance in them - the relief that he had just enough strength left in him to save her.
She would live with the pain of losing him, but at least she'd be alive. At least she could feel that pain.
It was too much. The pain she experienced now over his survival was crushing her.
"You're right. You did see him, if only for a little, but…" Uraraka took a deep breath. "It's not him, Kota. He's never going to be what you remember. I kept thinking he'd snap out of it and everything would be fine, but it's not like that. He thinks this is who he was meant to be."
Kota slammed a hand on the desk, rattling the laptop he was speaking to her through. "That's not right! Deku isn't a villain! I can show him that. Before anyone, he was my hero first. I can remind him."
"I thought the same thing," Uraraka said, not unkindly. Kota snapped his mouth shut and flinched away. "It's more complicated than that. Opening himself up to the reality of what he's done will likely break him. He might be your hero, but he can never be one again, not truly."
Instead of arguing, Kota fell silent. A hundred miles away, there was little he could do but argue, but he couldn't even do that. If a handful of pro heroes couldn't save Deku, what could he do? It was a hard lesson to take, but Kota was resilient if nothing else. She knew very few people who had lost what he had and managed to rise above it all. He had a lot of people to thank for that, especially his aunt and Deku. The two of them had corresponded a lot over the past few years about everything under the sun, from school to dealing with loss. Each letter and email, even the sad ones, had made Deku smile.
They used to make Uraraka smile too, thinking of what a wonderful father Deku would be one day.
Kota closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Tell me and be honest, even if it hurts me: can you save him?"
"I don't know," Uraraka admitted. Kota opened his eyes and stared at her hollowly. "I can say that we will, but the truth is, I don't know anymore. I don't know if he wants to be saved or if he's scared of what will happen if he does break free. It's like a part of him knows that what he's done is wrong, but if he fully admits it, there will be nothing left of him to save."
"So it's really over for him, isn't it?"
"I think...that's up to him."
There was very little Uraraka could do to help him feel better. She could lie to him, stretch the truth, and fill him with hope, but she was afraid of it being untrue. If things turned out differently, she didn't want Kota to feel betrayed. Was being absolutely honest with him the right thing to do? There had been times when Deku had smiled even when he was afraid - even when he was at his limit and all hope seemed lost. He'd done so much to save the world at a young age. How many times had he nearly fallen before they'd even graduated? How many nightmares had he faced with a smile on his face?
Even the few times he faced Bakugou, Deku smiled. Only when it faltered did she know things were bad. The smile didn't fit the situations, but it was still… It was something that brought him to mind. His smiles were for all the wrong reasons, but when he smiled now, it was like he was reassuring them that things would be fine. As soon as he took care of everything, they would be happy. His smiles had promised that before, and they did so now, but for all the wrong reasons.
"I want to save Deku just as much as you," Uraraka said, "but if we manage to snap him out of the quirk, the first person he'll have to face is himself. He's incredibly strong and brave, but it'll be hard to deal with."
Kota's bottom lip trembled. "Seeing him attack Ground Zero, Ingenium, and Mr. Aizawa at the park was scary. It was like I was frozen. I couldn't move or look away. I've watched lots of footage of Deku's fights, but this was different. He didn't fight with the same heart I always saw before. That's what scared me. He was missing something, like a part of himself."
She knew what he meant. Deku typically fought with everything in him. He didn't always go one hundred percent in case it would cause unnecessary collateral damage or injure civilians, but he poured himself into his fights. That heart Kota mentioned had been missing. He was hurt and angry whenever he confronted Bakugou or talked to Todoroki, but during the actual fighting, it was like he didn't truly feel the conviction he was acting out. He held himself back even when he talked and yelled about how much he wanted to end things, like a part of him didn't want to fight but he had to anyway. Like if he didn't refrain, everything would pour out of him and disaster would strike. He wouldn't be able to control his strength if he let go for even a second.
What would have happened if Kurogiri hadn't snatched Deku away before he could attack Bakugou after he'd struck Iida? There was no way Bakugou would've survived that attack. Deku would have surely killed him out of pain and grief.
And he would have regretted it. Uraraka was sure of it. No matter what Deku said, he was afraid of how he would feel if he succeeded in killing Bakugou. After Todoroki's break from the quirk's hold when he killed Endeavor, he had to be uncertain of what he would do once he finished his personal vendetta. He had to be confused about whether or not this was what he wanted. Bakugou was more to him than just an enemy or a childhood bully. He was a rival, a reason to fight, a reason to be more and rise above.
Kyōmu had taken more than just Deku away from them. He'd taken Bakugou away from Deku.
Kota wiped the tears from his eyes. "I wasn't… I wasn't really that sad when All Might retired. I know everyone was upset, but it wasn't a big deal to me. The only heroes that really mattered were my aunt's group and Deku, but now…" He took a shuddering breath, like he was one step away from crying. "I get it. Losing him the first time hurt. I'd texted him right before you all were called away and he never got the chance to read it." He sniffed. "It wasn't even that big of a deal, but I'd see it in my inbox and get upset. It was like losing my mom and dad all over again. I was so angry and scared."
He sniffed and looked away again. Maybe it embarrassed him to get emotional to the point of crying in front of her, but Deku had done multiple campaigns about teaching boys to accept their emotions and allowing them to open up about how they feel. It was important to him, especially in the context of heroes. Everyone assumed that heroes had to be strong to the point of not showing any emotions sometimes, but Deku was so open with his. Yes, he was confident and he was so brave, but he still cried too. Like the time Uraraka was impaled in the shoulder by a metal rod and he freaked out over her in public after everything was over.
She loved that about him. She really did. She'd been so afraid to show her own emotions until realizing how free he was with his. He gave them to the public for everyone to see while most people tried to hide. He taught people that it was okay to be sad, happy, scared, or excited. He'd done so much for everyone in the short period of time he was a hero. He deserved so much more. The world deserved more of him.
"But I knew what he would say. I knew he wasn't really gone as long as I kept that spirit up." Kota rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and then sat upright. "I was mad because I thought he left us too, just like Mom and Dad, but he did it to save you. I couldn't be mad about that. I had to move on for him. I had to be better, stronger, kinder. I had to live by his example. I wouldn't be perfect - I'm, uh, a lot pettier than him." He rubbed the back of his neck. "But I could try. That's what he'd want."
"It wasn't easy," Uraraka said quietly. She had felt much the same way. Deku wouldn't want her to cling to her grief. Accept it, work through it, feel it - but never drown in it. He would want her to live her life. He wouldn't want her to remain stagnant or give up on her dreams. He would want her to move on.
Except now, the very things she'd known Deku would want her to do were the things Kyōmu had made him believe he couldn't take. He had started to accept that expecting her to cling to his memory when she thought him dead was unrealistic, but that didn't stop him from loving her and wanting to be with her again.
Things would never be the same - he knew that - but they could rebuild their relationship again. That was why he had to get rid of any obstacles and finish this before he could work on them. Once he did what was asked of him - as soon as she saw that he was trying to do good still - she'd love him again. She'd want to be with him. He had to believe that or then what was the point of any of this? What was the point in doing all those things for her, killing villains and protecting her, if she would never love him?
She was beginning to think he didn't even believe in that anymore. He'd sounded and looked so damn lost the night he visited her at her apartment - their home. So tired, so done. Had he gone under the quirk and become even more confused? If Kyōmu was able to use her screaming rejection of him, could he finally turn Deku against her? Could he make an enemy out of her too? If he made it seem like she betrayed him completely, would he even let her get close enough to help him? Would anyone be safe?
"I keep thinking… What if he was still- still-?" Kota's voice trembled, and he swallowed down a sob in his throat. "Would it be better?" He didn't need to say the question entirely for her to know what he was asking, not when she had wondered the same thing. "When I watched that footage of the attack outside of Chargebolt's apartment, I was kind of happy? He was alive. He was in one piece. He was back." A mirthless laugh spilled out of him along with a few tears. "But then it was all wrong. I couldn't figure out what was happening. At first, I thought he'd appeared to help the heroes fight a villain, but then he was- he was the villain. And then I saw him attack everyone and he was going to kill Ground Zero. He was gonna do it and I got so scared but I jumped in - I had to - I couldn't just stand there and watch."
Kota had saved Bakugou's life. There was no denying that. To be honest, Uraraka wasn't sure if anything else would have stopped Deku in that moment. The incredible thing about him was that he had a special bond with so many people, all of them in different ways. Even though she'd been such a strong and important part of his life, there were things not even she could describe. Trapped in the forest with Tsu and fighting Toga, she hadn't seen what Deku had done to protect Kota from Muscular, only the brutal aftermath. What he'd done that night had changed Kota's entire worldview.
Deku hadn't had to do that. In fact, according to society's rules, he shouldn't have done it. Saving his life had, in a way, been illegal, but he'd ran to protect him knowing the consequences. He didn't regret it. There was a chance he could have been severely reprimanded, expelled, even killed, but his first thought had been a boy who didn't even like him. He jumped in to rescue him.
When Kota had used his quirk at the park, it had been to stop Deku from killing Bakugou, yes, but it had also been to rescue him from himself. She couldn't help but wonder if Kota realized the true extent of what he'd done.
It still hadn't been entirely enough, and that was what he latched onto. The failure, the guilt - the types of feelings Deku would have talked him through.
"I feel so ashamed for even thinking it, but I-I keep wondering… Would it have been better if he stayed dead - if he never came back at all?" Kota buried his face in his hands and bent over the desk. "What's wrong with me?"
Miles away, there was little she could do for him. If he had been in the room with her, she would've pulled him into a tight hug. She would've let him cry into her shirt until he was spent and then most likely cried herself after he left. As it stood, he was alone, locked in his bedroom in the home he shared with his aunt and her hero partners. They had assumed the training ground would be too far out of the way for the villains to attack. As of now, all she could do was talk to him over the video chat from their computers.
"Nothing is wrong with you," Uraraka reassured him. "This is a confusing mess. I've wondered the same thing." And it ashamed her too. How many times had she begged for him to be alive? How could she throw those wishes away? "When he showed up in my apartment, I thought I was dreaming. I'd pictured seeing him again so many times, and every time it wasn't real stung a little less than before. But there he was, real as could be, close enough to touch. I was so…" Her lips trembled, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. "I was so happy, if only for a moment, but then I knew something was wrong. If he was alive the whole time, why had he been gone for so long? Where had he been? The Deku I knew wouldn't have just abandoned us. It was like a mock-version of him."
"It must've really hurt," Kota murmured.
"It did," Uraraka confirmed, "almost more than watching him die. Because he really was there with me, but he wasn't at the same time."
Kota clenched his hands into fists again, a determined fire lighting in his dark eyes. "We have to get him back."
"Trust me, we are doing everything we can," Uraraka told him. "No one wants him back with us more than me."
"I know, I know, and I swear if for some reason you can't - if something happens - I'll do it myself."
His words chipped away at her heart. "Kota..."
"We can't give up on him!" Kota set a determined expression on his face, one that reminded her so much of Deku. How many hours of footage of Deku during his hero days had Kota watched, just as Deku had once watched all of All Might's? Of course he would resort to emulating his hero in this dark, terrifying time. "He wouldn't give up on us. He'd give it everything if it was you or Ground Zero or-or-" He couldn't bring himself say Todoroki's or Iida's names, but she heard them clear as day. "He fight even after he had nothing left."
"You're right," Uraraka said softly, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "He would."
And she loved him for it.
"We have to get him back," Kota said. "Whatever it takes."
"Whatever it takes."
Not long after Uraraka ended the video chat with Kota, there was a knock at the door. She pulled herself up from the couch to see who was on the other side, her hand raised to use her quirk just in case. Peering through the peephole, she asked, "What's the secret password?"
"You know, even if I was a villain in disguise," Shinsou drawled from hallway, "all I would've had to do was torture the information out of the real Shinsou."
"You'd give out the information that easily?"
Shinsou managed to connect eyes with her even through the peephole and glared deeply. "I didn't say it would be easy. Have you ever been tortured for information? It isn't fun."
No, she hadn't, but Todoroki had, although it had been impossible for him to not give up information due to Kyōmu's invasive quirk. Apparently, Shinsou had experienced it as well. It didn't surprise her. Unlike many of them, he'd taken to working as an underground hero, preferring to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. Fighting Deku outside of Endeavor's Agency was the most exposure he'd received in a long time. Every time his face and name popped up on the television or online article, he would turn away in irritation. Like Aizawa's, his quirk worked better if people didn't know him.
Rolling his eyes, Shinsou muttered, "Fluffy kitten beans," and Uraraka finally unlocked and opened the door. He swept inside the apartment, and she shut the door behind him, locking it up again. Not that the deadbolts would do much against most heroes, especially Deku, but it was the thought that counted these days. "I could've just used my quirk to get you to open the door."
"Yeah, but you didn't."
"That's the dumbest password I've ever heard."
Uraraka smiled faintly. "I mostly came up with it to watch Bakugou squirm in irritation every time he says it."
Shinsou snorted. "Gotta get your kicks somewhere in this shit time."
He walked around the couch, looking about the place like he might find something out of place to tip him off. He wouldn't. She'd been alone in here for the past few hours. Besides a few pros patrolling the area, she had been left to her own devices. Honestly, she preferred it that way. She hadn't wanted someone hanging around the apartment in uncomfortable silence or listening to her conversation with Kota, even if it was one of her close friends. Everyone was reacting to this differently, but they all changed their behavior around her. They knew she wasn't fragile, but the urge to help her was too strong.
Iida would've known what to do. Or maybe not. He probably would've insisted that she not be alone even if she wanted to be. He'd felt guilty over not doing more for her after Deku's death. Maybe giving her too much space had been the wrong thing to do. Maybe giving it to her now was a mistake. It was hard to say. Shinsou didn't seem like he was excited about being here, but he didn't look bothered either. He was just...here.
"What are you doing here anyway?" Uraraka asked, folding her arms and leaning against the door. "Not that I don't mind seeing you, but it's kind of...random."
"Would you believe me if I said it was because I was worried about you?" Shinsou asked.
Uraraka shrugged. "I mean, I don't doubt that you do, but it's not why you're here. You prefer to care from a distance. It's easier that way."
Shinsou's lips twitched into a grin. "That sounds cold, but you're not wrong."
"Did Bakugou send you?"
"Jackpot." Shinsou pointed a finger at her. "I forgot how clever you are."
It was easy to forget when she was with Deku. He shined so brightly that people couldn't help but remark on his intelligence. Since she wasn't fighting to be number one, she didn't mind being overshadowed by him most of the time, especially since he always brought up all the strengths he admired about her. He was the type of person who could gush about his friends during interviews when other heroes would talk about themselves. All the work he did spoke for itself. He didn't need to promote his name, not when there were other heroes that needed light shined on them.
"I figured as much," Uraraka sighed. She pushed away from the door and returned to collapse on the couch in front of Shinsou. "He's keeping his distance."
"Not a bad idea," Shinsou pointed out idly, "considering Deku's, you know, hellbent on seeking revenge on Bakugou for stealing you from him."
"It doesn't really feel like that anymore," Uraraka mumbled.
Shinsou raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Has he moved on?" She gave a helpless gesture. "Uh, is that a good thing or a bad thing? It sort of seemed like you were tethering him, but if he's given up on you…"
"I don't know." Uraraka dropped back against the couch, willing the soft cushions to swallow her whole. "And I don't know how many more times I can keep saying 'I don't know' before it drives me crazy." She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, thinking back on her last conversation with Deku. "For a moment I thought I had him - I thought he finally understood and he was crushed over what happened - and then he jumped right back into the delusion. He's terrified. I'm not used to seeing him afraid. It's...new."
"Even when he was afraid, he showed it in different ways."
"Of course there were times when we were in school that he was scared," Uraraka continued. "He never pretended not to be; he simply worked through the fear." She looked away from the ceiling and pulled her legs onto the couch to hug them against her chest, curled up in a protective ball. "He started questioning himself - what he was doing, what he'd done - and he was scared that everything he'd done was for nothing - that instead of bringing me back to him, he'd pushed me away."
"Well…" Shinsou rubbed the bottom half of his face. "He's right to be scared about that, isn't he?"
Uraraka nodded. "When I was with him and the villains, I tried to placate him - tried to reassure him and show him that I still loved him, but it just made him buy into the illusion more. It was a mistake. I was scared to push, thinking it might anger him, but I should've done it anyway. When I did snap at him or when I was open, there was always this little...break. It scared me, but it was a step in the right direction. He needed to know he was in the wrong. He needs to be scared too."
"Yeah, but getting backed into a corner usually ends up provoking people to lash out," Shinsou said. "I don't know about you, but he's the last person I wanna be around when he does." He shook his head. "He nearly knocked me off my feet by flicking a finger in our first year. What he's capable of doing now is beyond any of us."
"That makes us sound really stupid for trying to fight him."
"We are stupid," Shinsou replied with a mirthless laugh, "but it's not like we've got a choice either." He pocketed his hands and stepped over to look out the window. Situated at the outskirts of the city, there wasn't a lot to see here, but they could see the skyline of the downtown buildings. "It's his own damn fault for being inspiring. No matter what, he never gave up, even when all the odds were against him, even when pros would've stepped back. How's he gonna blame us for doing the same thing? I didn't come all this way to run because I'm scared."
She hadn't either, but sometimes she wondered if she'd made a mistake in not running away at the start. Maybe she should have left. Was she really doing any good by being here? What if she was only putting people in more danger by dangling herself in front of him? No, she couldn't leave him. She would have to live with being selfish in that respect. The public could damn her later if they blamed her for not simply fleeing and causing less conflict.
Uraraka let go of her legs and stretched them out. "So why did Bakugou send you over?"
"He doesn't think you should be alone," Shinsou said without any preamble. "He's probably right, but I figured you'd want to be alone. I know I would."
"We're not exactly alike," Uraraka said dryly.
"Nah, we're not." Shinsou leaned against the wall. "But you've got a lot on your shoulders - a lot of pressure that none of us can really understand. It's alienating, that guilt, but even worse, it's difficult to explain." The only other person that would understand it was Bakugou, but it was even different from him. It was easy to explain why hate twisted Deku, but his love… It was painful. Todoroki might be able to understand that a little better; after all, Deku had thought he was doing him good by letting Kyōmu use his quirk on him. "You think you messed up - that this would be over had you acted differently when you were with him - but the truth is, we all would have done the same damn thing."
"I did what I thought was right." Uraraka leaned forward to prop her elbows on her knees and put her chin in her hands. "It wasn't, of course. I couldn't snap him out of it. Honestly, I don't know if I could've even saved or helped Todoroki if Deku hadn't let me go. If Kyōmu thought my presence was affecting the process of turning him, they would've just separated us again. Even then..."
An uncomfortable look flashed across Shinsou's face before he made his way over and sat down on the couch next to her. He would never be one for physical comfort - even Bakugou and Todoroki were more prone to it than him - but he was honest, like Tsu, which was what she needed. Deku needed it as well. It was why she'd been upfront with Kota. There was no point in sugarcoating anything. They had to be realistic about this. The time for placating anyone was over.
"Mental quirks are...weird," Shinsou said carefully. "When people think of strong quirks, they often think of physical or elemental ones because they're the flashiest - quirks like Deku's, Bakugou's, Todoroki's. They're not gonna look at the hero who can cancel out tons of gravity with a single touch." She rolled her eyes, but didn't argue with him. "Mental quirks are deceptive in their strength. The mind is both strong and incredibly fragile. With just one word in response, I could brainwash the strongest person in the world. Hell, using a speaker, I can even get a crowd of people under control these days."
Uraraka tilted her head sideways to look at him. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, it's not something I advertise." Shinsou blew out a breath of air. "The point is, it doesn't matter how strong a person is, my quirk would still brainwash them as long as they triggered it. Deku is the only person who's broken out of my quirk on his own, but even he's susceptible for a brief period of time." He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back. "Whatever this Kyōmu guy's quirk is exactly, it deals with something that's difficult for us to comprehend. We can fight against a fist or flame, but against our own minds'? That's hell. The fact that he's able to navigate someone's head like that honestly freaks me out. That's a kind of strength I don't want to mess with."
"You sure?" Uraraka asked blandly. "You could brainwash him into throwing himself off a building."
"If I see him, I'll make sure to tell him to do that." Shinsou leaned back into the couch cushions. "After seeing the number he did on Todoroki, he deserves that and more. Man, his head is still really fucked up. He's out of the quirk's effects mostly, but this memories he had planted aren't gonna just go away. They're lingering like some sort of infestation."
Uraraka turned to him fully. "You saw him?"
"Yeah, the powers that be thought it might be a good idea if I talked with him because of my quirk, but realistically, I couldn't do shit." Shinsou folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, looking all to the world like he was ready to fall asleep. The dark circles under his eyes certainly suggested he was close to passing out. However, she noticed the tension in his body. He was too riled up to sleep. "It's a mental quirk like mine and Mandalay's, but it's on a completely different level. I can brainwash people into doing things they don't want to do, but his straight up changes a person to do things they wouldn't normally do before. It's not like I could brainwash him into forgetting what Kyōmu did to him. I can't erase the quirk's effects."
No, that would be too easy, and nothing about this situation was easy. They had to do everything the hard way. Uraraka drummed her fingers against her cheek. "Like you said, mental quirks are weird. They're hard for people to understand."
"Mmhm, and there are quite a few who are still iffy about mine." Shinsou snorted. "Getting a response out of some people is a lot like pulling a tooth. Bakugou still hesitates to talk to me."
"What about Todoroki?"
"Our normally reticent hero was reluctant as usual," Shinsou confirmed, "but also resigned to his fate." His eyes fluttered open, but he kept them on the ceiling. "It was hard seeing him like that. Todoroki's always been confident to the point where it's like nothing is a big deal. He'll take care of it. But now… That spark is gone. He's a shell of what he used to be. It's not right. The fucking quirk drained him dry."
It was the kind of thing that would require therapy in order to move past, but considering the person who had started this entire mess, she couldn't see Todoroki being up for it. He hadn't gone to therapy after Deku's death, even though she'd suggested it. She doubted he'd ever gone despite what he'd gone through during his childhood. He was vulnerable and open and he needed to talk with someone. If he needed it to be her, she would do it, but she wasn't sure how much she could help him.
She wasn't positive she would've been able to help him at all. The more she thought about it, the more unsure she became about her role in snapping him out of the quirk's strong hold. Had it been her to tip him over the edge or had it simply been the natural progression after his father's death didn't line up with what the quirk told him?
"I keep thinking about it," Shinsou said distantly. "About the quirk - about how easy it could've been me in his place. I could've done those things. Given the wrong push, further rejection by society, the continued insistence that I had a villain's quirk - I could have used my abilities to twist good people into doing evil things."
Uraraka sat upright and laid a hand on his arm. "Yeah, but you didn't. You rose above it."
"He didn't either," Shinsou replied. "He was a therapist, for fuck's sake. He had a doctorate, his own practice. What kind of man like that becomes a villain mastermind?"
"I wouldn't call him a mastermind," Uraraka said.
Shinsou waved a hand vaguely. "He's caused a lot of damage and fucked up a lot of lives. And if we don't stop him, things are going to get a lot worse. The shit he convinced Todoroki to do in one attack…" He rubbed his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "If he's able to finally convince Midoriya to go full throttle, we're fucked. If he thinks he's lost you for good, I don't know if there will be a point to getting him back. I don't want to get to that point. I don't want to be forced into a position where we only have one option. It's not him. I don't give a shit what that bastard told you: it's not him."
"Try telling Deku that," Uraraka huffed. "Kyōmu didn't get rid of his stubbornness."
"Damnit, I hate this," Shinsou groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "I can't-" He pulled his hands away and jumped to his feet. "I can't deal with this right now. Talking with Todoroki - thinking about what he went through, what was going on in his head, what that villain did to him and Midoriya - got into my head. I can't think about this right now or I'm gonna lose it." He turned to face her. "Are you hungry?"
"Not really."
"Thirsty? I need a drink. I need this-" Shinsou took a breath. "I need this out of my mind."
Uraraka almost laughed. "I'm right there with you."
She hadn't had a drink since the night before Deku reappeared in her life. There wasn't time to drink and she couldn't afford to cloud her mind. However, right now, all she wanted was for her mind to be clouded. She'd probably get too emotional and sob if she drank, but if she could forget for just a minute that Iida was gone, Deku was determined to destroy everything he loved, Todoroki was broken, Bakugou was on a hit list, and she… She had so much riding on this. Her entire world was in the palm of that villain's hand, and she genuinely didn't know what she was supposed to do.
If she was lost, then how was she supposed to bring Deku back home?
After a quick trip to the nearest shop, Shinsou returned to the safehouse apartment with a pack of beer and the promise to not tell Bakugou. Neither of them were sure how well he would take the idea of drinking under these circumstances, but both of them had decided to only have one each. Well, she was only going to have one. Shinsou had grown even more aggravated during the trip the more he thought about what Todoroki had been put through. She thought the comparison of quirks was bothering him in particular, but decided against bringing it up. After all the work he'd done to ensure people didn't relate mental quirks to villains, one had proved him wrong.
It was a slap in the face, and Shinsou was not the type of person to turn the other cheek. He took things to heart.
They were watching a boring reality show in an attempt to distract themselves and avoid the news when the burner phone Uraraka had been given rang. Her own cell sat at home unused in case the villains had someone capable of tracking it. There was a high possibility Deku had known her location that way, but she couldn't be for sure since neither she nor Todoroki were aware of any villains with that kind of technical knowledge. Only a few people had this number, but she still checked it just in case. She wouldn't put it past Deku to find this out too, but she didn't think he'd call her until this was over.
"It's Naomasa," Uraraka explained. Shinsou raised his eyebrows and set the beer down decisively. Their little moment away was over. Time was up. She answered the call and lifted the phone to her ear. "Yes?"
"I would ask you if you're busy, but…"
Uraraka smiled grimly. "Trashy television does keep me occupied."
"Are you by yourself?"
"No," Uraraka answered carefully, turning to watch Shinsou clean up the area. "Shinsou is with me."
At the mention of his name, Shinsou stopped in the middle of the room, the empty beer bottles clinking in his hand. He glanced back at her curiously, and she shrugged her shoulders.
"Did he drive?" Naomasa asked.
An odd question, but one she didn't know, so she asked him. "Did you drive?"
Shinsou furrowed his brow. "Yeah, I didn't feel like walking miles to the nearest train station from the holding facility. Why?"
Uraraka turned back to the phone. "Yes, he did."
"I need you to meet me where Todoroki is being held."
"Ah, Shinsou just came from there." The connection clicked in her mind, and her heart shot up into her throat. She grasped the phone tightly. "Is Shouto-?"
"He's fine," Naomasa reassured her quickly. "Actually, it's not about him. It's about our...other guest."
"Ikeda." Uraraka's heart dropped back into the pit of her stomach, and she stood up. "I didn't know she was being held in the same place."
Naomasa sighed. "I wish she wasn't, but it makes it more convenient for interrogation, especially when there's a need to corroborate what she says with Todoroki."
"Has she given anything useful?"
"So far, mostly nonsense, pointless information, and lies as far as we can confirm. She's not the most helpful villain in the world." Naomasa sounded incredibly frustrated and even more tired somehow. How thin had he stretched himself? She worried about Bakugou, but there were so many people working this behind the scenes that few considered. Heroes took center stage, but there were also police officers, medical professionals, and so many more involved. "She said she'll talk to you though."
Uraraka froze. "Me?"
"I'm not sure how much good it will do, if I'm being honest," Naomasa told her. "I think she's just trying to buy time, play at mind games, but if there's a chance…"
"I'll do it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm positive." Uraraka slipped on her shoes while waving a hand at Shinsou. He took the hint, throwing the bottles away and putting his shoes back on. "If there's any chance it can help, I'll talk to her, even if it's a waste of time. She can think she's messing with me, but I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes. Tell her I'm on my way. I want her ready."
From the threshold of the kitchen, Shinsou eyed her warily. "Someone's in a mood."
"I'm done," Uraraka said, jamming her phone into her pocket. "I'm done playing these games."
"You were playing before?" Shinsou shook his head and snatched his keys from the table. "I'm sure Naomasa already alerted the people watching this place that you're leaving. No sense in wasting time."
"I can go there myself. You don't have to take me."
Shinsou snorted as he unlocked the front door. "And risk facing Bakugou's wrath? No thanks. He's annoying as it is. I don't need him breathing down my neck and blowing a gasket because I let you go on your own." He turned back to catch the look of consternation on her face and shrugged. "I get it - your wrath is much worse - but I don't feel like arguing when Deku is out there."
She wasn't a damsel in distress, but Shinsou wasn't wrong. She had to accept the level of danger she was in and the target on her back, even if Deku swore not to hurt her. Ignoring it was both stupid and selfish. Bakugou damn well knew she could take care of herself, but that wasn't the point. He wasn't the only one feeling more on edge after Deku broke into her apartment the other night.
Bakugou could've been there. Had they not realized what they were doing - had she asked him to stay with her that night - what would've happened? What would Deku have done? How would he have reacted? She couldn't help but feel like she'd betrayed him on some level, but that was stupid. She didn't belong to him, especially now that they had come to terms with each other. She loved Deku, but not like this. She wasn't betraying him or their relationship because this wasn't it.
They spent the drive to the facility in terse silence, but there was nothing either one of them could say. As Shinsou drove and tapped his fingers along the steering wheel, Uraraka texted Bakugou to let him know she'd left the safehouse in order to speak with Ikeda. Maybe she could see Todoroki while she was there. So far, he had continued to avoid seeing his family. While he was certain the quirk would no longer affect him around them, he was still ashamed. She hadn't seen him since the day they figured out Kyōmu's identity, left to fend on scraps of updates from Naomasa. It wasn't nearly enough.
Bakugou responded quickly: Is it just you and Shinsou?
Yeah, we thought keeping a low profile would be better.
Take care of his dumbass.
Uraraka almost smiled and texted back, I will.
If you see Todoroki, tell him he better be done rolling over belly up.
Of course. People would always believe Bakugou was selfish and focused only on himself, but she knew the truth. He thought about others far more than most people realized. Maybe he didn't come off as considerate or caring, but now that he was older, he knew the importance in considering others before him. He hadn't just been thinking about her when they'd been taken. He hadn't lost sight of Todoroki, just as he'd never forgotten Deku. He cared plenty. It didn't matter to him if anyone else believed it or not.
As they pulled up in front of the facility, Uraraka unbuckled her seatbelt and said, "You can drop me off. I can probably get a ride back from Naomasa or another detective here."
Shinsou frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, you've already been here once today, and it clearly upset you," Uraraka said. He eyed her and looked away. It had done more than upset him. She could hear the gears turning in his head as he drove. Whatever he and Todoroki had talked about in regards to Kyōmu's quirk, it had unsettled him. "There's no sense in making you wait here while I deal with this. Go home. Get some rest."
"Oh, you know me," Shinsou replied dismissively. "I'm the pinnacle of getting proper rest."
Uraraka ducked out of the car. Naomasa met her outside so she would have an easier time getting in. Right before she stepped inside, she turned around to wave at Shinsou. He returned the gesture and then drove off. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Shinsou was not going to rest. He was almost worse than Bakugou, who Kirishima apparently had to guilt trip into sleeping. When he finally did lay down, he passed out for over ten hours. Who knew if Todoroki was getting any sleep? Who knew if Deku was resting? He'd looked so tired in her bedroom.
Why were all the men in her life so damn stubborn?
"Thanks for coming," Naomasa said as they walked down the hallway. "Short of breaking the law, we've thrown everything we can at her." He went to fix his tie and then stopped when he realized it was gone. She'd never seen him look so undone and rumpled before. Had he slept in the past few days? "She's surprisingly deceptive. Either she refuses to talk and pretends to be asleep no matter what we do or she won't stop talking about nonsense. Most of the information she's given has either been false or absolutely useless."
"None of it has been helpful?"
"Not unless you count her utter disgust over Dabi preferring cold soba. It's a family thing apparently." Naomasa shook his head. "You wouldn't think it when looking at her, but she's more resilient than we gave her credit for."
Uraraka could believe it. When she first met Ikeda, she didn't think much of her. She'd been put on guard duty outside of Todoroki's cell and reading some trashy magazine. The few interactions she had with Ikeda didn't give the impression that she was fit for the villain lifestyle. She was either bored or nervous, downright scared of Deku, and irritable with Dabi like she hadn't got enough sleep. Fighting hadn't appealed to her, not even at Endeavor's agency where she avoided it as much as possible.
Granted, Uraraka hadn't anticipated her pulling out a gun either. The murderous intent radiating from Ikeda had been surprising. She hadn't seemed like the type. Uraraka got the feeling that there was a lot about her that most people looked over because of the languid way she carried herself, a bit like Aizawa when he hid away in his sleeping bag. Then again, someone with a mental quirk had to learn to survive if they were going to make it as a hero or a villain.
"Did she say why she wanted to talk with me?" Uraraka asked.
"I'm assuming it's to either stall, play more games, or a combination of both," Naomasa told her outright. Other people, even Bakugou, might've been insulted at the blunt response, but Uraraka knew it wasn't a reflection of her abilities or what he thought of her. It wasn't that he thought Uraraka couldn't get information out of Ikeda; he simply believed that Ikeda had no intentions of giving any. "We even offered a deal for information - a genuine deal that I didn't like but couldn't fight - but she didn't bite."
"That's strange. She doesn't seem like the loyal type."
"I think it's resignation more than loyalty," Naomasa said, stopping in front of a door. She tried not to let her eyes wander away. If she did, her mind would drift to Todoroki, and she couldn't let herself get distracted. "From what I could gather using my quirk, this League doesn't seem like they're tied together through some common bond or sense of loyalty."
"Are you coming in with me?" She hadn't done many interrogations during her time as a hero. More often than not, she left that job to the police, although she'd sat in on a handful and watched more. Her boss liked her employees to be well-rounded in the knowledge of police work. If she wanted to rise in the ranks, she needed to do the same.
"No, I think it'll be better if you do this alone." Naomasa gestured to the door to the left. "I'll be on the other side watching. If you need anything, I can step in."
"Got it." Uraraka tied up her hair and put a determined look on her face. "Let's do this."
Naomasa unlocked the door, allowing her to step inside. The room looked the same as the one Todoroki had been kept in, down to the way Ikeda was chained to the metal table. Unlike Todoroki's time held captive by the villains, she had obviously been allowed to shower, although the jumpsuit she wore did little for her. She looked painfully normal, her hair down and tucked behind her ear, her skin washed clean of anything that might mask her. The only difference was her eyes.
Despite being heavy-lidded, Ikeda's gaze sharpened the second it landed on Uraraka, and she bared her teeth in a smile. "Hello, hello, Uravity, this is a familiar position, isn't it?" She awkwardly gestured to the empty chair across from her, the chains limiting her movement. "Heroes like to play pretend at being polite, of course. Instead of cells, we have these comfy interrogation rooms." She scrunched up her face in distaste. "I have to admit; I've stayed in worse motels, but I wouldn't give this place a five-star rating."
"I didn't know you were so chatty," Uraraka said as she sat down.
Ikeda shrugged and sank back in the chair. "I've got a lot of time on my hands to sleep. I haven't been this well-rested in a while. It's kind of nice."
"What do you want?"
"No chit chat? No girl talk?" Ikeda flounced and stuck out her lip in a little pout. "It's so dull here. I can't even dream. Can't you indulge me for just a little?"
"Sorry, I think you trying to kill me and my captivity ran me dry of sympathy."
Ikeda huffed. "That's on you, not me. If you'd just stayed out of the way like Midoriya wanted, I wouldn't have been forced to defend myself. I'm not a fighter, but you threatened me." Really? She was going to claim self-defense. This woman really was good at coming up with nonsense. "Besides, you asked him to take you, so again, it's not my fault you were held captive. I even saved your life, remember?"
"You're also the one who put me in the position to get killed," Uraraka pointed out. Ikeda made a helpless gesture. She didn't seem to think much of it. "I'm surprised Deku didn't punish you for that. I also remember how terrified you were."
"He did," Ikeda scoffed. "Why do you think I was at the attack on Endeavor's agency? That's not my style, but he insisted I be a part of the attack squad." She sighed dramatically. "I think he just wanted me to get caught in the crossfire and die." She tilted her head and settled a measured look on Uraraka. "Your boy is very cold. All that time spent away from you, I'm afraid. Kyomu really did a number on him. Not even my quirk could help him through the beginning."
Uraraka leaned forward. "He's a monster. Not only did he force Deku and Shouto to betray everything they stood for, but he did so as well. He was supposed to help people, but he used his abilities to hurt them - twist them."
"Oh, you mean how he used to be a therapist?"
A hollow feeling swept over Uraraka. "What? You...knew?"
Ikeda smiled sharply. "Did you think he tricked us all? I'm a villain, Uraraka, not some hopeless girl that got caught up with a bad crowd." She shrugged, the chains rattling, and sunk further in her seat, closing her eyes and sighing like she was thinking of a good dream. No, this was definitely a nightmare. "Takumi was a good doctor. It was a shame what happened to him. He was nice, you know? I mean, a hard ass and he didn't take shit from his patients, but he was good at his job."
This whole time, Ikeda was sitting on information they'd painstakingly gathered. While they sorted through Todoroki's broken memories and old documents, she had given them nothing but drivel. As soon as she knew that they had his name, she flipped the switch. Ikeda wasn't anything like Uraraka had imagined. She'd seemed almost kind, but no, she was just as bad.
"How do you know about this?" Uraraka asked.
"I was one of his patients!" Ikeda laughed. "Of course, he didn't use his quirk as he does now. It really is a thing of beauty." She leaned forward as much as her chains could allow her. "It's how he knew about my quirk. I struggled with controlling it - always giving myself nightmares when I slept, couldn't tell if they were just dreams or memories. They can be so realistic." She tilted her head down enough to tap it. "He was able to get in there, help me sort it out. What a kind man."
"Then how-?"
"You know what happened to his practice, right?"
Uraraka nodded. "It was destroyed during a villain attack."
"That's a lovely official story, isn't it?" Ikeda teased. "There was a villain attack, yes, but the hero fighting him destroyed it in the process. Even used the rubble to deal more blows. Such a heroic figure. He took out the villain, but at the cost of a few buildings. Some heroes just don't consider the cost of winning." She wasn't wrong, but they were taught to be aware of it. In the beginning, Bakugou had been willing to destroy a building in order to win, but he'd learned his lesson. "It wasn't just his practice that was destroyed. It was his life - his home in the apartments above, everything he owned, his family."
Uraraka's blood ran cold. "His family?"
"Beautiful wife, two precocious kids, poof!" Ikeda wiggled her fingers. "All gone, like they were nothing. They didn't find the youngest one for almost a week while cleaning the rubble." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I bet they're having the same problem at Endeavor's agency. Just how many people did Shouto kill?" She grinned. "Besides his father, I mean. Geez, I knew he was strong, but filled with that much hate? Now that's cold. No wonder Takumi got in his head so easily."
"Losing his family isn't an excuse for putting other people through the same thing as him. IN fact, it makes it even worse. He knows what they're going through."
"Doesn't matter." Ikeda didn't seem to care either. She looked bored already, her eyes drifting to the mirror that hid Naomasa and then the door. "Once some people lose that tether, there's nothing to hold them back." Like Deku would if he truly believed he'd lost her. Like Todoroki had when he thought he'd been abandoned by his family and she'd given him permission to let go and stop struggling against his pain. "As I said, he was a good doctor, but damn if he doesn't play a good villain. He doesn't even have to get his hands dirty. He got your precious Deku and Shouto to do the work for him - and you and your new beau helped him."
Gritting her teeth, Uraraka forced herself to push through the rage building inside of her. She couldn't let herself get distracted, even if she wanted to jump forward and slam Ikeda's face in the table all over again. "If you know him so well, then you must have an idea of what he's planning to do."
"Sure I do. I've been with him since the beginning and knew who he really was." Ikeda slumped in the chair and groaned. "But I'm tired. All this talking is exhausting. I need another nap." She jerked upright, slamming her palms on the table. "You hear that, Detective? I'm done here! I'm ready for that cot!"
Uraraka jumped to her feet and leaned forward before Naomasa could cut the interview short. "Just tell me!"
"And what? You'll go easy on me?" Ikeda threw her head back to laugh without abandon. "I was involved in the kidnapping and torture of the Number One Hero, the kidnapping and torture of the Number Four Hero, and then the attack and murder on the replacement Number One Hero. I'll be lucky if I get out of here before Shouto. There is no going easy on me, no matter what deal is waved in my face."
It was hard not to flinch at the mention of Shouto's punishment. No one wanted to talk about it, but the chance he would get completely out of serving any time behind bars was almost impossible. Maybe they could get him off using some sort of insanity defense - if they could properly and fully describe the quirk's effect on him - but the fact was that he had killed more people in his single attack on Endeavor's agency than many villains combined.
Ikeda let out a breath and relaxed in the seat. "I'll tell you what: since you indulged me by coming here, I'll indulge you. It's Wednesday, right?" Uraraka nodded. "Well, you're in luck: Takumi does have an appointed scheduled for today, so you'll be seeing your beloved very soon."
"Where?" Uraraka demanded.
"Well, in my experience, in order to help a person, you have to deal with the root of the problem," Ikeda drawled pleasantly, like she was talking to an old friend. She held up one hand palm up. "On one hand, Deku has to face his childhood bully and the trauma he inflicted along with trying to steal away the love of his life. But there's also the world that allowed said bastard to rise to the top when he should've been punished his atrocious behavior?"
"The hero system," Uraraka said. "I know it's not perfect."
"No, it's not," Ikeda agreed, "or heroes with innocent civilians marked as collateral damage on their records or abusive fathers wouldn't be around to wear capes." She held up her other palm and smiled. "But what creates them? What takes that pathetic idealism of a child and turns them into a government bully in tights?"
The realization struck Uraraka like a bolt of lightning. She spun on her heels and called out, "Naomasa!" but he was already banging on the mirror. She rounded on Ikeda again, but the woman didn't even flinch. "When?"
"Well, it was around lunch when I asked to speak with you, so…" Ikeda drummed her fingers on the table. "Hero class started a little while ago, didn't it?"
Uraraka ran out of the interrogation room, Ikeda's laughter chasing after her and her phone in her hand, but she knew in her heart they were too late.