'The UN Doctrine to Quirk Warfare places strict limits on quirk usage in the military for a reason. Imagine a soldier with a hardening quirk, a common quirk archetype. They have the armour of a tank but far greater mobility. Imagine a soldier with an explosive quirk. They wield the power of a rocket platoon without the concern of a logistics supply. Quirks magnify the utility of a soldier. It is why every military in the world does not abide by this doctrine. Including the UN itself. Was it not armed quirk regiments that the UN used to enforce peace on their terms during the Dark Age? Was the fabled Hawkmoon anything more than a hired killer at the behest of the UN? We're lying to ourselves if we think otherwise. Go to Brazil and you will the scars of that campaign centuries, endless miles of barren land and the great ravine to Titan's Fall. Quirk warfare is bloody, destructive and chaotic…'

—Excerpt from 'An Itinerant's Guide to Quirk Warfare' by Alexander Petros.

Katsuki Bakugou is angry.

That anger is the sun rising each morning. Maybe one sunrise is prettier than another, sweeping purples and brilliant oranges far as the eye can see. Maybe a sunrise is special because it's seen somewhere new, a snow-swept mountain or a churning ocean, or witnessing the light of the sun grace a field in a valley at the beginning of spring. Maybe it is special because you watch it on a deck with someone you care for, chilly autumn air caressing you gently, the whisper of the wind intermingling with stolen breaths.

But one sunrise is still a fucking sunrise. You might ascribe value to it, but it's still the same experience. Darkness and cold, then light and warmth. The colours don't matter and the scenery is merely decoration to the sun itself, given value only to those who observe it. The sun does not care how you view it. It will rise and set regardless of whatever meaning you give it.

Katsuki being angry is therefore nothing new. The only difference is the context. That context being that Shikoku is one fucked up place and it pisses him off. This isn't how he wanted to spend his first internship, not when he received offers from both Hawks and Best Jeanist.

He'd rather be fighting villains with those either instead of patrolling the streets with Edgeshot. Because fuck, the fake ninja likes talking.

"You're lucky you go to UA and people can recognise you," Edgeshot says, continuing what seems like an endless monologue. "If you tried to stop that fight, they wouldn't do anything more than breaking a bone or two at worst."

Right now, Edgeshot's hand is holding him by the shoulder, holding him back from perhaps doing something stupid. His grip is crushing, powerful in a way Bakugou doesn't expect from someone who walks so delicately, light on his feet in a way that reminds him of Izuku—and thinking of that always sends him to dark corners, so he focuses on his anger instead, anchoring himself to the present day.

There's a fight going in the middle of a basketball court, two people out for blood. One is a mutant that looks like a tiger, long claws and sharp teeth and raw brutality. The other seems to just be a regular person, no powers other than a graceful hand and a very long knife, but Katsuki isn't stupid enough to believe that.

The one with the knife rolls forward and slices her opponent's arm, backing away quickly. He can't understand how the fuck Edgeshot is indifferent about the fight, or how the five people in the area seem more interested in preventing Katsuki from interrupting than stopping the fight.

"You see those two over there? Underground heroes. That guy in the back is a vigilante. No idea about the other two so they're unaffiliated with any other group."

He's aware of the three and has kept them all in his line of sight. There's a park bench and a tree for cover should it come to that, and he can always backtrack to the alleyway if need be. Not that he thinks anyone is willing to get in a fight with a top ten hero.

"The fuck does that have to do with letting her die?" he asks, seeing her take a hard punch to the face.

Edgeshot scoffs. "She's baiting him."

Katsuki frowns as the tiger mutant leaps to the woman on the ground, intent on ending the fight. At the very last moment, she rolls into the attack. He can't see what happens next. All he knows is that the mutant is suddenly screaming in pain, a knife deep in their arm, and the woman has her arms raised high, whooping in victory.

Two of the spectators rush forward, one with a medical kit and the other apparently there to hold the mutant down.

"Shikoku isn't like Kyushu," Edgshot says as they treat the mutant. "There aren't enough heroes or police. So, it's taken up by people like them. I don't know what grudge those two had, but it's sorted out now. No one's gonna get hurt because of it in the future."

Katsuki clenches his left fist, not his right because that one hurts like a bitch.

"Fuck, you think he's not gonna go after her."

"Of course not," Edgeshot says, pushing him to keep walking. "If he does, a group of four, maybe five or six people will find him and kill him. This fight was sanctioned and permitted. Anything else isn't. Think of it as a duel of honour. Those were permitted in ancient times. Ambushing someone was a crime then. It's a crime now. People make their own peace here."

Edgeshot waves at a group of soldiers walking down the road. One waves back, glancing at the basketball court. Edgeshot shrugs and they continue onwards.

"I grew up here," his mentor says. "Saw the Purge first hand. It's why I'm a hero. I don't want that to ever happen again in my home. But the military must go away. The base here was large but it wasn't anything like this. There weren't military barricades and patrols everywhere before the Purge. Now, you don't go more than a few minutes without seeing a uniform."

Katsuki isn't stupid by any means. You don't get into UA by being stupid and the school had covered this part of history as part of his curriculum. He knows the military base here only used to house the 14th Brigade in the early twenty-first century. Following the emergence of quirks and the widescale destruction caused by the Dark Age villains, the Central Army had largely been devastated baring the 14th Brigade. It had been chosen as the new headquarters for that army, expanding as the city expanded.

It would, over the centuries, be the location for the headquarters of the reformed Central Army, and in time, the entire army. Zentsuji might not be the capital of Shikoku but it does boast a considerably larger population than the official capital of Takamatsu.

It also boasts the single largest army in Japan at slightly over a hundred and fifty thousand by Katsuki's best estimates. As large as the entirety of the JSDF in the twenty-first century.

"Everyone has a goal, Katsuki. Mine is demilitarisation. That makes All Might my ally when it comes to matters like this. We work the same events and walk in the same circles."

Edgeshot points at a man in a dark hood watching some kids play on the street. No one seems to care about this. Katsuki watches him and then feels more eyes on him. He looks at sees someone dressed similarly further ahead. The more he looks, the more of them he sees.

It takes him a moment to realise that person they consider an enemy, the person they distrust on principle, is him. Katsuki is a stranger here, someone not to be trusted, a foreign influence who might not share the same interests or goals.

"That's where I started out, just trying to make things better for a few people. Keeping the peace. There's a safe zone down the road. Everyone is protected there, doesn't matter who they are. You start something there and you'll be lucky to walk away with a broken face. Military police once tried to apprehend the villain Shinobu a few years back. That started a three-month riot and ended with Shinobu's Vow, a battle that never seems to end. Ask most people here, and they'll tell you they support her Vow."

Edgeshot speaks quietly, looking straight ahead. There is a melancholy to him, a profound sadness that leaves Katsuki uncomfortable. This isn't the first story Edgeshot has told him, nor does it seem like it will be the last.

There may be joy and happiness to be found, but if there is, it's hiding beneath a pile of suffering Kastuki has only barely skimmed the topmost layer. A riot here and an execution there, a curfew in a few weeks back and maybe a slum suppression in a few weeks to come.

"I like the internships," Edgeshot continues, steering them away and down a new direction. "It makes sure you kids actually see what you might have to deal with. You're strong, don't get me wrong, but you're too brash because of that. You need to be patient. Wait for just the right moment to strike. Giant explosions are good for intimidation but an efficient attack takes less energy. You can stay in a fight longer. Your arm's busted up and I've seen how much pain it causes you to handle the recoil. If you don't adapt then one day you won't be able to use that arm."

Fuck you, he thinks bitterly, because it would be so simple if it only hurt when he used his quirk.

He can't feel a good two-thirds of his arm, splotches like inkblots denoting areas of feeling, black numbness on a canvas of excruciating white pain. The portion protected by the brace hurts the worst, a searing pain that flares up intermittently. His fingers, the three he can feel with any consistency, feel raw and scraped and sometimes the pain heightens to a point where he contemplates chewing them off.

"So, we just fucking give up?"

"It's a cycle, you see. Poverty breeds poverty. Once something gets bad, it only gets worse." Edgeshot leads him down another street. "The only reason you got into UA is cause of a scholarship."

"I got in there cause I was better than everyone else."

"Really? How much did it cost you to take the entrance exam? On your dad's salary, it probably doesn't matter. Running those exams is expensive. I was just lucky enough to get in on a draw."

"How the fuck do you know about my dad?"

"I pulled up your records. Even looked at your red order."

He tenses, remembering the conditions with excruciating details. He remembers the private chamber the judge explained the full details of his red order, the room dusty and crammed with him and his parents and Aizawa. If he ever makes a single mistake, if he ever hurts anyone other than a villain, if he ever goes beyond the bounds of the law, then there is a laundry list of crimes he will account for. If he ever does fuck up, then maybe if he's lucky, he'll walk a free man when he turns forty.

He doesn't like thinking about it.

"That was sealed."

"It was sealed until I paid a broker for information." Edgeshot watches him indifferently. "Your information isn't really private. You're rather lucky that classmate you hurt is so kind. Otherwise, you'd be in prison."

Katsuki grits his teeth, doing his best not to scream and lash out. Does everyone think he doesn't regret what he did every day of his life? Every night he goes to bed remembering the fear in those green eyes and every morning he wakes up with a scream in his throat.

"I fucking know."

"Good. Because I have three weeks to teach you everything UA can't."

He glares at the hero before stalking past him, staring at the ground. It makes it easier to pretend that he's not a terrible person undeserving of anything he's received so far. He wishes he had someone, anyone, to speak to. Not his therapist because she just pokes and prods in all the wrong ways. Someone, though, willing to understand his failings and meet him half-way.

"Bakugou!"

He looks up and sees Yaoyorozu of all people trailed by Jirou and a hero he's certain is Ryukyu. His lips curl into a snarl. He knows they both got an internship to the province. He just hoped he could avoid them for the next three weeks.

Honestly, he'd rather not see anyone he knows. Especially not people who know his failings and their shape as well as these two.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

Edgeshot shoves him forward, having snuck up behind him. "They're on patrol. Think things through a bit."

He fucking hates the smug smirk Jirou wears. She's somehow dazzling even in her dark outfit, more intense than the drab backdrop that is Shikoku. And that leaves him breathless for a moment before he focuses on the anger instead.

"I think you guys can have a short day," their mentor, Ryukyu, says, nodding to Edgeshot.

Edgeshot offers Ryukyu his arm like a gentleman. She shoves him aside, chuckling. The two wave even as they walk down the road.

"Lazy bastard," Katsuki mutters.

He watches his mentor walk off with another hero. The bastard has the audacity to laugh at something she says.

"Let's get lunch," Yaoyorozu suggests once the two heroes are gone. "There's this really nice hotel with the best calamari in Japan. We can catch up."

Katsuki is tempted to say no. It's his first instinct. Who the fuck does she think she is acting like they are friends? They don't know each other or have anything in common. It doesn't matter that they message each other often and she was the person he discussed his internship with before accepting it. None of that means they're friends.

It also sounds like the sort of personal lie Deku's Kaachan would make and he never wants to be that person again, defined purely by his inadequacy and insecurities. He doesn't want to go back to hating someone simply for being kind and decent.

"You're paying," he grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He's sick and tired of being alone. There are exactly two people his age still willing to give him a chance and both are standing before him.

"You done with your internal conflict?" Jirou asks, rolling her eyes.

"Fuck off."

He lets Yaoyorozu lead them to a restaurant. Maybe he feels guilty they're being served food that costs more than most here will pay in rent for a month. But then Yaoyorozu makes a joke that sets Jirou off, and for a moment, he's willing to forget.

-TDB-

Toshinori Yagi isn't certain how he came to agree to this madness but he understands the importance of image more than most ever will.

Some days he wonders how badly society would be rocked were his weakened state to be revealed. How does one simply continue with their lives knowing the pillar upholding society isn't the steel structure they thought, but a mouldy wooden plank? He worries about this more often than he'd like.

I should stop burdening Izuku with my worries, he thinks but dislikes the idea immediately. Izuku has already seen him without his powers and accepted him. Better that he knows and expect the burdens of the path he walks than be surprised by the weariness it brings.

Most of all, Izuku is someone to confide in. There aren't many people he trusts like that.

"We're here today with All Might," the interviewer says, pulling All Might from his thoughts. "Thank you for joining us today at the Quirk News Network."

He grins his famous grin. "It's my pleasure to be here today."

"UA's Sports Festival was attacked recently and by all reports, the person responsible for perpetrating the attack was a UA student," she begins with no preamble.

That lack of false pleasantries is one of the main reasons he will occasionally grant them interviews. They want answers and hard facts, not gossip.

"A former UA student, yes," he agrees. "One who was withdrawn from the heroics program for behaviour unbefitting a hero. It is a tragedy that the young man would resort to such an act but we are ultimately responsible for our own actions."

"But don't you as his teachers hold responsibility for him as well?"

He isn't my successor, he thinks uncharitably and instantly feels shame.

That boy should have been helped. Toshinori isn't certain what form it should have taken, and he can't turn back the clock and fix the issue, but the fact that it happened is problem enough. No child should be forced to make a choice like that.

"In many ways we do but there is a limit to which we can guide any child," he says deeply. "We do not monitor and observe a student outside of campus for the sake of ensuring their privacy rights. It is always a fine balancing act between mentorship and being intrusive. And after a student leaves the campus, be it from graduation or expulsion, they become responsible for their own actions. Certainly, we are willing to help, but we can only help those who seek it."

She nods, shifting in her red lounger. It's leather like the one he is delicately sitting on despite that fact that it could probably survive someone triple his weight.

"That highlights a concern many of our viewers have. There seems to be no real safety net in place for alumni. Once you're out of school then that's it. Specifically talking about the perpetrator of the attack, Nagisa and his entire class were expelled two years ago. UA has always had a reputation for accepting only the very finest with its exams, but the fact that an entire class can be expelled shows the exam isn't a particularly good metric for future success."

All Might's grin strains just the tiniest bit. She's being polite and perfectly courteous, but she smells blood and circles around him with her questions, waiting for a single slip-up.

"It did work for a long time but we have found it to be an outdated model. So much so that many of our students signed a petition to have it evaluated. We believe strongly that students are the best form of feedback available to us, and as such, the entrance exam will be assessed thoroughly in the coming months, and a more balanced system put in place."

"Hm, and what changes do you expect to see come next exam?"

"I'll say that this has yet to be confirmed, but I believe a psychological screening process will be front and centre. Very likely, examination groups will be smaller and take place over the course of a week to see the full breadth and utility of a student's quirk, as well as the ingenuity they show with it."

"That seems closer in structure to the hero licensing exam. Don't you fear it will dilute the licensing exam if you use something so similar?"

He takes a sip of water to reset the conversation and give himself a moment to think.

"Hardly," he says, choosing casual dismissiveness. "The licencing exam test the more practical application of being a hero from combat to rescue activities. The new exam will be focused on ensuring a student has the necessary temperament to be a hero and if they have learnt to make use of their quirk. And if it causes the standards of the licensing exam to increase, then I see no problem with it. UA has always been the premier heroics school in Japan and stands shoulder to shoulder with Toledo Research Institute in Spain and Hero Memorial Academy in Zimbabwe. The entrance exams of those institutes have always been the highest in the world. And if UA must change it's exam structure to stay abreast with the international heroics industry then it will."

She frowns slightly, undoubtedly hoping to find a weakness or a flaw to pounce on. Polite though she may be, they aren't allies by any means.

"That was a very concise answer. Speaking of your students, they're currently taking part in their internships. With the increase in crime, many parents have worries about the danger posed to these youths. Especially since these internships will be an unprecedented three weeks compared to the usual one week."

"I'm not worried for them. They'll be under the watch of top heroes with decades of experience. And having personally seen their resilience, I can say with certainty that I have no worries. They will learn and grow from their first experiences in the field."

"Even with the hero-killer present? The last who held that title killed Hero and her wife Legion."

"It's a lofty title to hold. His claim to fame is that he has defeated some heroes. That's not a title I would brandish with confidence. The last Herokiller did not escape for very long and neither will this imitator. We can tell based on his attack patterns that he isn't particularly strong. He's struck against sidekicks from the shadows at the end of their patrols when they are already tired. Even with that, we've cast a net. He'll be apprehended within two weeks."

"Aren't you afraid he'll run now?"

"Not at all. If he runs, then he invalidates whatever point he thinks he's making. If he stands his ground, then he will be defeated. No matter the outcome, this hero-killer loses."

"You haven't taken any interns," she says, shifting the topic. "In fact, since Sir Nighteye you haven't formally worked with any sidekicks."

There is a bundle of pain and regret deep in his soul every time he thinks of his former sidekick. He knows he should do something and confront his past, but right now the idea is too painful.

One day, he will, but not today. Today he must with deal with this interview. Tomorrow, and the next few weeks, he must deal with the Yakuza.

"I haven't taken any interns because there is little for them to learn from me."

She raises a single perfect brow. "Really? Nothing for them to learn from you? All Might, greatest hero of the Modern Hero Era?"

"They know who I am, they know my ideals and beliefs and fighting style. I don't want to create a carbon copy of myself. These children are the future and the lessons they learn for themselves are more important than any I can teach."

"A lot would like another All Might."

"And I'd like to be twenty again," he says jokingly, smiling despite the constant pain he feels in his side. "But we just have to accept what we have and make the best out of it."

"The government has recently declassified more footage of your fight against the Iron Dancer. Before we only had grainy images of the fight that got you named the Perfect Fighter."

All Might inclines his head. "I haven't thought of that battle in quite some time."

And he very much doesn't want to. It was one of his earlier fight in America, back before he was fully confident of his abilities and certain of his capabilities. It was a fight he very nearly lost, the second so soon on the heels of his losing Nana.

"By all rights, you should have lost," she says, not cruelly. "He had more experience than you did and was much faster than you are. You spent close to half an hour battling one of the foremost martial arts experts in the world. It's been dissected by many analysts but I'd like to hear from you how you won a fight that should have been unbeatable."

It had been a sobering reminder that there are other powers, some equal to him, and a few who surpass him. He wonders, some days, at the heights of power the legends of the past held, the likes of Hero and Stormwind. There is reverence when people speak of them, of Stormwind slaughtering an army and Titan trampling mountains beneath his massive form.

Will they remember me?

"Firstly, you have to remember that no one is unbeatable," he says after a moment of silence. "Even the greatest villains can be defeated. If you believe in their invincibility, then you give up your will to win. You will have lost the fight before it has begun. Acknowledge their strengths, yes, but never to the point you blind yourself to the possibility of victory."

"How did you win in your own words?"

"I kept punching the same spot. Nothing fancy about it. He was more skilled than me so complex manoeuvres were detrimental. I played to my strengths, the power of my punches, and kept on hammering one point until his defence broke. It may have taken half an hour but I had the perseverance to win." He grins for the audience. "You can topple a mountain if you chip away at it long enough."

She nods sagely, eyes darting towards the clock.

"Do you have any parting words?"

"One form of wisdom is to take the words of those who came before and believe in them earnestly. One of my students is wiser than I can ever hope to be but, there comes a time when we must make our own beliefs as one of my peers informed me. A time when we must stop looking to other symbols and become our own symbols. I have been called the Pillar of Society but that is because I believe in society. We can all become pillars if we are willing.

"I've come to learn that the hardest step a person can take is the next step. Taking a step forward, being able to place one foot in front of the other, is an act of faith in and of itself. It is the ultimate prayer against despair. So long as we keep moving forward, we'll meet the rising sun eventually. The greatest step forward we can make is passing the baton to the next generation. I believe fully that those who next will surpass us all. The students I have been privileged to teach will surpass me and forge a legacy greater than any I could hope to make. They have the greatest advantage over us: they can take our wisdom and forge a future without using our outdated means. Our duty right now is to make the world better in what few ways we can and entrust them with the power to choose a future."

"Well, there you have folks. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule for this interview."

All Might grins.

"It is my pleasure."

-TDB-

Police officers cordon the area from civilians, tape and authority their methods of control. Shouto Todoroki walks through the crowd of tense officers with his father, not once stopped by them. A few people recognise him from the Sports Festival and say his name in awe.

He spots a man with a squad in quirk suppression gear standing with a squad dressed similarly and their eyes meet. His eyes are grey as a frigid morning on a stormy sea and just as cruel. The man says something that is likely a curse before turning away.

Shouto puts him out of mind. They have more important things to deal with right now. Like the dead hero in the alley.

The sight of the corpse elicits no disgust in him. It's a dead body, about as important as any other. Maybe the blue fur and tail and scent of sulphur might be interesting were the hero alive. There was a person behind the hero, someone with loves and hopes and dreams. Shouto feels no pity for the dead hero.

It means he had simply not been strong enough to survive.

In the abyss, death meant you were too weak to survive. And whatever strength you had was simply consumed. He's killed many creatures intentionally and committed genocide accidentally. A single human life doesn't mean much to him.

"What can you tell from this corpse?" his father asks, as he always does when they encounter a new corpse.

Shouto lets his right eye see past the bounds of normality. His father looks like howling dead, burning eternally in a fire stoked purely by hate, and not the lines of ordered energy most humans look like. There are dark smudges around the corpse, impressions of the murder, and they paint a blurry picture that he can follow if only barely.

"The spine was severed first," Shouto says, watching the psychic residue of the crime play out in his sight. "Stopped him from moving. Single cut. Repairing the spine would be difficult without a quirk like Recover Girl's."

Or a dragon's spine as a replacement, he thinks, remembering how they repaired Izuku's. He certainly doesn't want to think of the agony the procedure had caused Izuku, but he also doesn't want to forget Izuku's sheer joy at walking for the first time in months.

That electrifying grin still leaves him dumb, unable to speak past an inarticulate grunt.

His father huffs in annoyance. "You should stop relying on her. Her quirk is powerful, but it does not replace trained surgeons. I'd trust them over a trumped-up emergency responder any day. What else can you see?"

"There wasn't much anger in this. It was cold and calculating. The second cut to his throat happened much later."

"Good. Why?"

"Maybe he wanted to spare him initially," he suggests to which Endeavour shakes his head. "To use him as a warning?"

"He had heroes like Ingenium to send a message," Endeavour says.

"From the reports," his father continues, walking towards the police cordon, "Ingenium only died because no one discovered his body with the chaos of the Sports Festival. The real reason is that this Hero-killer is a narcissist."

For a moment, Shouto sees a shadow walking down the street. The shadow looks familiar, someone he knows, but distorted by rage and hate and anger. He wants to say it is Iida, but he's never seen Iida in a bad mood, let alone ready to murder someone.

The vision fades, making him blink rapidly.

They fall silent as they pass by the police. His father exchanges a few words with the grey-eyed man.

"That makes no sense," Shouto admits once they're past the police and not likely to be overheard by the few onlookers.

"He preys on weak heroes and whilst they die slowly, he speaks to them. Maybe it's threats, but most likely he's driven by a violent ideology. People like this see themselves as righting some perceived wrong."

"What if there is a wrong he's fixing? What if he has a point?"

His father glares. "Not like this. All this does is take away resources for dealing with villains and policing actions. Nightcrawler here was a rescue hero. Now he can't save any more lives. Whatever wrong this villain thinks he's correcting, this is the wrong way to go about it."

"I'm surprised you care so much for the law. Seeing as how you used all of your resources to keep authorities out of your life." He shoots his father a snide look. "Quirk marriages were made illegal centuries ago."

"Your point being what exactly? All of us are bargaining chips. You. Me. Your mother. All that matters is who is willing to pay the price."

A surge of anger rushes through him and he feels very ready to incinerate his father. The only thing that stops him is the expectant look in those steel blue eyes.

"Good, you can still control yourself. Your mother's quirk was valuable for its power and inheritance. Five generations of various water emitter quirks culminated in your mother's perfect ice quirk. There were many people who sought a union with Rei. The rich, the wealth, and the powerful. And they all fled before one man."

"The Emperor."

"Yes. How did you… No, that's unimportant. He wanted to add your mother's ice quirk to his son's dual quirk and create the first triple quirk. Can you imagine the power they would wield then?"

He can. The Emperor's son had sunk Taiwan in a fit of rage. To imagine that scale of power added to the ability to control ice makes him shudder. The Imperial Family would hold the world hostage by the threat of their power.

"The Emperor whose earth quirk can raise mountain ranges and destroy cities easily. His son who controlled the oceans on top of that power and killed twenty-million people in one fit of rage. And whatever his child would be able to do if they got Rei. They would own the world more than they already do."

"No one should have that much power."

"Don't you? The godflame makes up the very essence of your soul."

Shouto inclines his head in agreement. His control over those infernal flames makes him powerful even if he can't quite wield them with the finesse he did in the abyss. He's strongest there, he knows that. Here, the godflame abides by its own laws and he can only call a portion of it.

Still enough to burn the world, but perhaps not enough to completely wreck the galaxy. He'd have to weaken the boundary between this world and the other layers of the abyss to operate at full power, and he's not sure he wants a world like that.

He walks the streets of the city in silence with his father, unsure of why they're walking so publicly. They seem to have no objective. Endeavour even signs an autograph for a group of children. He doesn't smile or suddenly become gentle, but the sight of his father kneeling to sign a child's notebook is still absurd.

"Perception is important to the public," Endeavour tells him once the kids are gone. "People need to be reassured that their heroes are competent, especially with the recent murders. Stand tall and let them take strength in you."

Shouto grunts but takes his hands out of his pockets. "Inefficient. We could be searching for leads."

"And what do you know of investigations?"

"Go to the crime scene. Look at the crime scene with my weird eye. Follow psychic residue. Simple. It's what you do, after all." It is said snidely and with too much pettiness.

His father levels a glare that prior would have silenced him for the rest of the day. The people in their way automatically step aside, unaware of why the street is suddenly filled with such heavy dread.

"Don't take that tone with me. You will show me respect or you can return home. This was your request. I did not beg you to come."

They turn the corner and there's Iida around the corner, talking to some hero. Just like he saw minutes ago.

Shouto stops in place whilst his father continues walking towards the pair. Because the sight is so familiar that it leaves him with a sense of vertigo.

Right now, Iida looks calm and collected. Iida looks just as cheerful and diligent as usual. His hair is impeccable, his smile bright, and his costume resplendent. It paints the picture of the perfect intern.

Shouto doesn't have to look very hard with his right eye to see the dark and coiling miasma around Iida. It's a churning Stormfront of rage, grief, violent intent, and cruel determination.

Just like the shadow Shouto saw minutes before.

"Isn't that one of your classmates, Iida?" the sidekick asks Iida loudly, pushing him forward. It gives the sidekick the opportunity to talk to Endeavour without Iida right beside him.

They stand awkwardly together, neither knowing what to say. They're not friends. Classmates, sure, but the only connection between them is Izuku—always Izuku.

"Todoroki, how are you?" Iida asks, removing his helmet.

"Iida, can we talk in private."

"Sure," he says cheerfully. Iida waves at the hero he's working under who nods.

Shouto takes the time to scan for a quiet alleyway, one without heat signatures and much in the way of electromagnetic activity. There, two streets down is an alleyway between two office buildings. It's long past the work day ended though as always there are people working diligently.

"What's wrong?" he asks Iida in the shelter of the alley. "You look like you're about to kill someone."

Iida cocks his head, the picture of innocent confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about, Todoroki. I admit I haven't been sleeping well since the Stadium, but I can't look that bad."

The lie is beautiful and delivered expertly. Even Izuku would be impressed. Sadly, Izuku is a much better liar than Iida could hope to be.

"Let me tell you a truth in exchange for that lie. There are exactly twenty-seven heat signatures in the building behind you, four of them are small pets. I can tell you there's someone downloading a lot of data about to cross the street to your right." And just as he says, there's someone walking with a bulky looking device in hand. "You don't have any real reason to trust me, but I didn't have any reason to tell you that truth."

Iida has a great poker face, his expression not shifting for a single moment. He wonders who Iida learnt it from, then realises there's only one person they know who lies as easily as breathing.

"Well, that's an interesting expression of your quirk but—"

"I'll tell Izuku," he threatens and Iida freezes on the spot. "I'll tell him and you know for a fact that he's gonna hop on a train right now and shake you until you tell the truth. And if you don't, he'll start crying and probably tell All Might."

It's the single pettiest insult he's ever wielded. His father would be disappointed if he heard, but he suspects that Fuyumi would find it hilarious.

Iida stares at him incredulously. Shouto simply pulls out his phone. Iida moves like lightning and grips his wrist harshly.

The veneer of civility disappears from his classmate. His eyes are filled with such loathing that Shouto almost chokes on it, this raw and malicious intent to see any path forward.

"The Hero-killer killed my brother," Iida says darkly and slow as a glacier. "He'll kill more. I'm going to kill him first."

That makes more sense. That is something that makes sense. Kill or be killed is the nature of the abyss, and what is this universe but the topmost layer of it. The power burning in his soul is the power to scorch reality to his image, to burn everything away and start over.

"Okay. Do you want some help?"

The hand around his wrist tightens painfully. "What?"

Iida is perhaps the person in their class he considers most like a hero after Izuku. Perhaps not as all-loving of life itself, but diligent, respectful and driven. And if considers this the right path, then what reason does Shouto have to argue?

Fuyumi told him to figure out what it means to be a hero. This seems a perfectly valid way to do so.

He's committed genocide once before, killed creatures just as alive as he is, and forgotten how to love his mother. Killing a single mortal mam won't weigh in his conscience.

Perhaps it never did.

"He's killing heroes," Shouto says, removing his hand from the Iida's painful grip. "Heroes save people. If I help you stop him, doesn't that mean more heroes stay alive and they can save more people? Which means we're saving those people. The maths is simple."

The logic sounds reasonable to him. Kill the person killing the heroes and save a lot of people. Simple. Neat and tidy.

Shouto extends his hand. "I'll help you kill him. And you help me figure out how to be a hero."

Iida clasps his hand. "I think I might have misjudged you."

"You can be my third friend."

Right after Izuku and Fumikage. He may be willing to put up with the others in his class, but he doesn't expect to see them in a few centuries, not like his equals.

-TDB-

"I thought you were some hotshot with two quirks. Put some effort into it."

Izuku groans from his spot on the ground. Everything hurts and he regrets calling Gran Torino out that first day. Because he's shown absolutely no mercy since then. It has been training since that moment and there has been no pause. He's been slammed into the ground and humiliated by an old man running circles around him.

It is pure combat training and Izuku can't help but love it. There is a challenge to every exchange, a call for him to be better. Each bruise forces him to move just the slightest bit faster to avoid another injury.

He rolls to the side before Gran Torino can kick his face in. A small crater forms where his head was moments ago.

You realise you're being beaten by a senile old man.

"Shut up," he snaps.

He takes a kick to the face for that. "Don't get distracted."

He stays focused for the rest of the training session, ignoring Mikumo's unwanted commentary. It makes it a bit difficult to weave between Gran Torino's incredibly quick attacks. One For All comes to life and he dashes forward. He twists low and summons a shadow pole, the green sparks vanishing.

He swings at Gran Torino who leans back. The old troll kicks the pole away. Then he kicks Izuku in the face once more.

"Your mistake is thinking they're two separate quirks," Gran Torino chastises whilst they rest an hour later. "You either use One For All or you use your shadows, but you don't flow into them. You called your quirk Shadowshield but you don't use shields."

He takes that advice.

When Gran Torino next attacks he makes a shield out of the darkness and blocks the powerful kick.

Gran Torino flips over it as Izuku expects. But this time he doesn't banish the shadows, doesn't waste precious moments, and instead pirouettes on the spot, the shield still around his arm.

He blocks Gran Torino's blow with darkness in one arm. And then he twists, kicking low with one leg. And then he charges forward, shield raised and bashes into Gran Torino.

The retired hero lifts his leg and lets his sole take the blow. The moment his shield makes contact with the hero, Gran Torino jets away, landing a short distance away and entirely unharmed.

Which makes Izuku blink. When he opens his eyes again, Gran Torino is in his face. Izuku has perhaps a split second to curse before the pain comes.

He stares at the sky, head pounding.

"Good," the man says above Izuku. "You've already figured out you're not All Might. Kick where he would punch. Dodge and weave where he would block. Now it's just a matter of getting you to figure out how to incorporate your quirk properly. Shadowshield is an emitter quirk. Defence and offence are the same things for emitters. Again."

With grace, he flips and lands on his feet. Gran Torino nods.

Izuku dashes forward.

A strand of darkness shoots from his shadow seeking Gran Torino's leg. It misses as he expects. Instead, he grabs the strand and turns it into a hard pole with a single thought. He twists and swings the weapon.

Gran Torino blocks it easily but it gives Izuku a single chance to move forward and kick at the old hero.

"Foolish," Gran Torino whispers and grabs Izuku's foot as his leg rises.

Izuku stares in shock as the hero uses his kick against him to get height and momentum. Then the hero activates his quirk and closes the gap too fast for him to react.

He takes a boot to the face and feels his nose break.

Izuku snorts blood out, annoyed, but he still stands and slides into a ready stance. "Bring it," he says nasally.

Gran Torino sighs, cracking his back. "You're a masochist but you've got drive, kid."

It takes no more than an hour before he's beaten black and blue. Izuku wheezes, wondering if there's anything broken in him then remembering his bones are stronger than normal with their odd crystal lattice supports. He would definitely feel any major bones breaking.

Which reminds him that he'll have to get his medical report from Recovery Girl at some point.

You want to see the monster beneath the surface? Mikumo asks, sounding frustrated. You're not human, brother mine. Why should you care?

"There's a clinic nearby. One of the nurses has a healing quirk that will accelerate the healing process. After we visit her, you're going to figure out the range and limitations of your emitter. If you can't tell me the exact range you can sense, the area you need to make shadow constructs, how many you can make, then I'm going to beat you down again."

"Yes, Gran Torino."

"This is something that's been bothering me, but why can't you make constructs our of other people's shadows. You can feel mine, right?"

Izuku nods. "Yeah. It's half a square metre."

"Smaller than yours. So why can't you make constructs out of it."

"Because I… huh, I've never tried that."

Gran Torino kicks him in the shoulder. "You're one of the smartest idiots I've met. Once you can make constructs from any shadows and incorporate into your fighting style, you'll be top tier. Keep people bound with shadows. Block attacks with shields. Dodge what can't be blocked. Take them down with One For All. As it is, you're at the very least strong enough to win against B-rank threats easily enough. A-rank would be a stretch without help, but if you got lucky then maybe I'd bet on you."

The retired hero sets off with a wave, hobbling on his cane. It makes Izuku wonder just how much is a lie and how much is genuine age.

He gets a call after the nurse has set his nose and lectured him for a good ten minutes about proper care. He's nodded along knowing he'd just get back to fighting tomorrow and knowing that his body will heal by then anyway.

"Hey, Uraraka," he says happily. "How's the Internship?"

"Good. You sound like you have a cold."

"Broken nose."

"It's our first week. How?"

"Getting my ass handed to me by an old man. I took a bit of a training internship. I'm just working on getting better control over my quirk."

"Really? You need better control of your quirk?" She sounds incredulous over the phone. "You beat Todoroki like he was a little boy and you didn't have control of your quirk?"

He shrugs, not that she'll see it. "Yes?"

"Your powers are just broken."

He laughs. "Yeah. Are you and Shinsou ever going to go on a date?"

"Not you too. Asui and Kirishima won't shut up about it."

"There's this nice café downtown with cats called Anteiku. It would be a great place for a date."

"Right. Are you going to take Todoroki there?"

He blinks. "No. Why would I?"

"Because… oh yeah, you're kind of an idiot. Never mind."

"Please tell me you aren't pulling a Hatsume and think I'm in a relationship with Shouto. Because we're not."

"You know you call him by his first name. You don't call anyone else by their first name. I don't know what's going on between you two but it's something even if you're not sleeping with him."

Uraraka ends the call before he can respond. His ears burn and he is glad no one is around to see him.

I'm here, Mikumo says.

"Shut up and go to sleep."

He looks to the setting sun and wonders if everyone else is having half as much fun as he is. He hopes they are. What's the point if things are boring? What's the point to life if you don't challenge enemies stronger and faster and greater than you?

In the beginning, that idea would have frightened you.

"Back then, I wasn't ready."

This time, though, he has no fear as he dives deep into the abyss. Training never stops and it's one fight after another. He heads deeper and deeper, past the more benign creatures, and towards the ones willing to fight him. He challenges creatures that don't follow any of the natural laws, constantly shifting forms and destroying concepts like time and death. He still manages to defeat them.

And maybe, just maybe, he enjoys the thrill of fighting to the death.