'Japan is a perfect example of reputation being more important than your deeds. The current system of heroics in Japan was adopted from Vancouver Island without thought to the long-term consequences. The Vancouver Island Villain Association was once made up of vigilantes and peacekeepers who became villains only because the government branded them as such out of fear. The perpetual war between the vigilantes turned villains and the Hero Conglomerate is mirrored perfectly in Japan.'
—Excerpt from 'The Effect of Heroics' by Saruhiko Ando.
Kurogiri wears his best suit and waistcoat today. The suit is a deep navy, not quite black but close, and the waistcoat a soft powder blue.
In his hands is a bouquet of flowers. Though he may hate it, there are all chrysanthemums in various colours. On this day, and only this day, he can set aside his disdain for the Imperial Household and their failings.
Because, the two people resting beneath the ground, are the only good that came from that family.
"Hello, Ino," he says solemnly. "It's been a long time."
He kneels in the mud, not caring that it ruins his suit. It doesn't matter as much as being close to one he loves. The bouquet rests gently against her gravestone, a shade of white marble that is pristine decades after it was erected.
"Twenty-two years to this day. I've never stopped thinking about you." He traces her name with misty hands, closing his eyes to hide away the pain. "Do you remember that lake where you proposed to me? You got one knee and made an honest man of me. I went there recently and I didn't break down. I think I'm finally moving on and I don't know if that makes me a bad husband. I'm sorry if it does."
He leans his head against the gravestone, wishing he could feel the cold stone as other humans. This is the closest he can come to be with them, and even then, the barrier of touch separates them. Not as much as death, but it still leaves him bitter.
"Akane, baby girl, you were too young. I miss you and I'll always think of you. I've killed so many just to destroy this society that would take you from me. I'm sorry for everything. I think this is ending soon. When All Might is dead, I can finally join you. I don't know if you'll forgive me and I'm so sorry if I've disappointed you. I just… I miss you, princess."
He thinks of her, so proud and imperious and graceful. And just so beautiful it takes his breath away. His daughter was everything. They both were. Every day he's thought of them and every plan to finally end All Might has been made for them. All Might is the exemplar of this society, the one who embodies every fault and every failing. If he falls, then this society will fall with him.
Maybe there is something noble and decent that can be built from the ashes of Kurogiri's dreams of happiness. If there is, then he's willing to dedicate his life to that future that exists past the horizon of All Might's oppressive strength.
Maybe he'll fail and this will amount to nothing. But if he fails at least he can say he tried. And if he dies, then he'll be reunited with them anyway.
"Ino, I know you understand the ruthlessness of the decisions I've made. I know you're smiling because I've stained my hands red for revenge. You were always the vicious one between us, always stronger than I could ever hope to be."
He smiles, remembering her ferocity. She was the one who made the decisions, the one who taught him to be calculating and vicious. Despite all that she was, she still loved Kurogiri and their daughter. She loved the two of them tenderly, gently, and with more compassion than she ever showed for anyone else.
"Akane, I'm glad you never grew up to see how cruel the world and your family were. Wearing a white uniform isn't an easy thing. Carrying the Chrysanthemum is a heavy burden. The things I did for the Emperor, the things you might have had to do… I'm just happy you never did."
He chuckles bitterly. What sick world does he live in to be able to find some relief in the death of his daughter? How cruel is it that not living is a better option than confronting the person you've become?
"Have I ever told you about Tomura?"
There is no response. The dead don't speak and they never will. If they could, they would be alive, and Kurogiri can't travel back in time to fix his mistakes. He can't journey back and stop a hero from killing his family. He gave up on that futile hope long ago.
Still, he smiles.
"I don't think I have. Akane, let me tell you about your brother. He's a stupid kid that plays too many games and doesn't respect me. He's going to try something crazy and I'll have to save him when it goes wrong. And after I do that, he'll curse me out for interrupting his fun. I shouldn't even like him."
He laughs bitterly, a hiss of escaping air. All that should exist between them is a business relationship and a shared loyalty to Sensei. That, however, is too little to encompass anything between them.
"I suppose we don't get to choose who we love, only the way we love them. I think you would have liked him for a younger brother, Akane. And maybe you could have taught him some manners, Ino. I'm sorry, but I can't leave him yet. I can feel things are going to end soon. He needs a father and I'm the closest he has."
He touches the gravestone one last time.
Here lie Ino and Akane Hanazuki,
Mother and daughter bound,
From womb to the grave.
They will be remembered,
By a generous father,
And a loving husband.
How often has he read these words? Too often. To his dying day, he will remember these words. Everyone has loved ones and everything Kurogiri has ever done has been for those he loves. They're dead now, but he can extend his love for one more person.
He can choose to love his surrogate son, wayward and irreverent though he may be, as much as he loved his wife and daughter. Maybe one good act doesn't wipe away his past actions, but loving Tomura is the only kindness has left to give.
"Wait a bit longer for me."
He leaves.
Perhaps it is a weakness but he doesn't return immediately. He travels the world, seeing sights he always thought of taking his family: Great Zimbabwe and its ancient walls; the Hanging Gardens, built from a quirk and an act of dedication; Titan's Fall in Brazil where the Great Tyrant fell. He doesn't stay more than an hour in each place.
Maybe it's selfish given everything that needs to be done, but he needs time to himself. Time to think and reflect on all that he has done.
And when his resolve has returned, he sets his sight homeward.
He appears before Sensei and, for the first time since they met long ago, kneels before him. If things really are ending, then maybe it's time to try something different.
"I have returned," he says strongly, confident in his loyalty. "What are your orders?"
"Perhaps I go outside my bounds," Sensei says slowly, and it startles him so much. The idea that this monument to strength and power and cunning is contrite, hesitant even, in speaking to Kurogiri, is breath-taking.
There is no reason Sensei should hesitate, no sentence he cannot say for what repercussion can the Strongest Man Alive face, and no act he can commit without instant absolution. It is the nature of power. Those with ultimate power exist above the realm of petty laws and human morality. If he truly wished it, Sensei could rule as the Third Great Tyrant and rule over a quarter of the world. That he chooses not to despite his power makes Kurogiri respect him more.
"I gave you my life and loyalty," Kurogiri says without looking up. "Only you can speak of them."
"I did not have the honour of knowing them, but I know you. Whatever doubts you may have about the path you set out on that day on the mountain, trust that they would stand by you."
"Thank you."
"If you believe my words, then stand. I will not have you kneel before me."
"You're the only person I would kneel to." Kurogiri stands slowly. "You've never asked me to. Thank you."
All For One laughs. "You are the most loyal. I do not forget loyalty. Give me your report. Tell me the state of Japan."
"The vigilantes and unaffiliated individuals are behaving oddly," he begins. "They seem to be organising rapidly. Even underground heroes are taking part. It's been happening for a few months now, but it's reached a critical mass. I haven't been able to figure it out, but they're using green lightning bolts as their calling card."
"Oh, a lightning bolt." Sensei grins. "Tell me, are they expanding and instituting new safe zones? Are they interfering with hero operations, especially in Hokkaido? Are they rioting against the military? Are they refusing to obey orders from pro heroes?"
Kurogiri blinks. That is, essentially, what he planned on telling Sensei. Perhaps in greater detail, but the nature of events remains the same.
"How did you know?"
"Because the same thing happened during the Dark Age, the New Age and the Golden Age. Even I did much the same as a youth by gathering others behind a common set of rules and an ideal. Movements like this herald the changing of an era." Sensei leans forward. "They have been galvanised by the words of a boy and cannot abide by the failings of the government any longer. A boy who believes in Shinobu's Vow and has taken up her legacy, unintentional though it is. People won't pay attention to them until they're suddenly another great power."
"Should we eliminate them?"
"No. They have as much right as Tomura to choose a future. I can break them in a few minutes if I wished, but it is no longer my place to choose the future. Speaking of him, what do you think of Tomura's Vanguard?"
"They're… a ragtag bunch. A violent murderer, a high school student, a walking fire hazard, a serial killer, a teenager, and a Stain fanatic. In all honesty, I don't think he's even really a villain." Kurogiri would smile if he could. "But they are Tomura's. He made the group and I'm proud of him."
"As any father would be."
"He doesn't see me that way."
"I believe he does. He may fear me and see me as a pillar of strength, but I'm not the one he sees running the League. He may ask me questions of philosophy, but it is you that he looks to for advice. He may not wish to admit it yet, but he sees you as his father figure."
Sensei stands and only now does Kurogiri notice he is wearing his life support equipment. It's always hard to see him in this dimly lit place. And so often, he foregoes it, relying instead on his regenerative quirks.
"Kurogiri, I entrust things to you for the next few days."
He looks up. "I'm sorry?
"I have things to do overseas. It seems the Chinese have launched a strike against my allies in Vancouver."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because though you wore the Emperor's colours when you destroyed their Djibouti base, they know you are loyal to me. This is a retaliation, striking at me where I have the least control."
"Forgive me."
Sensei waves away his apology. "I told you to accept anything for peace. The fault lies squarely with me for not anticipating this." The villain smiles, a cruel thing that fills Kurogiri with dread. "Besides, they're sending three of their Great Ten. I'll take great joy in annihilating them."
"Do you have any orders?"
"The Vanguard is his group. I cannot tell him what rules to abide by. He's young, still capable of making mistakes and learning from them. I've made the mistake of constraining him to the rules that I learnt. Immortality is the death of morality. I cannot force my lessons and methods that failed onto him. He has to learn, even if I disagree with how he will act."
"You know what he plans on doing."
"I know Tomura. I don't need to read his plans to know how he plans on fighting the war. Perhaps attacking the youth who will inherit the world is the way forward. Attack their ideals and destroy their educational foundation." Sensei shrugs, a rather human reaction. "Perhaps my failing was to only go after the most obvious signs of power—the government, the Imperial family, and the great heroes."
"You rarely admit your failings."
Sensei inclines his head, a weariness Kurogiri has never seen coming over him. It makes him look… not weak, because weakness is not something one can associate with the Strongest Man Alive, but perhaps resignation.
"It was a child who stayed my hand centuries ago. It was a child, a girl no older than eight who forced the strongest man alive to stand down. I never thought to go after the future. It was always the present I fought. Even now I struggle to understand it fully. I don't understand why things have changed so much since my youth. That's why I must entrust my beliefs to a successor."
Sensei shakes his head.
"Watch over him, and ensure they stay away from Imperial assets. Other than that, I have more important things to deal with."
"Understood," Kurogiri says.
-TDB-
Inko Midoriya tries her best to enjoy her morning. Try being the operative word.
She is woken at dawn by an ethereal spider, large as a small car, singing a song of peace and harmony and the tribute from an endless genocide. She ignores it, sliding around its many legs, too furry and too unreal at once.
Before a cup of hot coffee, she is too tired to call on her power and destroy it. Besides, it isn't trying to hurt her and lets her pass without issue.
In the kitchen, she makes a cup of coffee, brushing aside the small, and distinctly normal spiders from her mug. She checks it for eggs, not wanting to possibly incubate anything else after that weird thing from the Sports Festival, part serpent, part spider, and part dream.
She drinks her coffee at the table, ignoring the normal spiders that make runes of formless power to invoke some godling or other. She nudges one aside just before they complete the final link and use the power found in unnatural shadows to summon something. As a precaution, she takes a few lamps and illuminates the odd spots of inky darkness Izuku leaves behind until they are vanquished by the light.
/Mother, shadowking mother, let us summon those who came before. Speak and broker peace between our people. Let the shadowking's genocide fade to dust in memory/
Inko ignores the spider. They have been nattering on and on about peace between them and Izuku. And that's ridiculous because Izuku can barely hurt a fly, let alone commit genocide. No, he loves life too much for that.
All forms of life, no matter how alien and surreal.
A colony of dream spiders walk above the clouds as she goes to the gym. They watch and sing and offer endless lines of tribute, the power for her to become a godling and rule over the earth should she simply accept their peace.
Inko has long ago learnt the folly of deals by entities she knows nothing about. She spends an hour at the boxing gym with her trainer, an old friend from university. Back when Inko was a bit more serious with the sport and could have gone on to be a prizefighter.
Then Izuku came in her life and she won the greatest prize.
By the time she returns home, the spiders are gone. She finds her husband in the kitchen eating toast and drinking tea. Just like Izuku, he doesn't do well with caffeine.
Seeing him there stirs up old memories of a time when they were happy and together, when Hisashi wasn't scarred and she couldn't speak to gods, when her son was just a simple boy trying to figure things out in life.
But that time is dead and can never come back.
"Okay, talk."
Hisashi sighs. "Not even a kind word to start the morning?"
"I spent the morning punching a bag. Do you want me to punch you as well?"
He smiles, raising his hands in to surrender. "Alright. I did some digging on the place they put those kids in. By all appearances, it's a pretty reputable place. Honestly, if I went crazy, I wouldn't mind being put there."
"Don't tempt me."
"You have to dig a bit harder to find the sealed wing. Nezu hid it well. It's not on any plans and the space it occupies is so well designed you won't find it. I had to buy the information from—"
"Can we skip the exposition?"
"He's been running it for thirty years at least if the analysts are correct. Any UA alumni who could completely jeopardise their image as an institute is placed there, out of the public eye. It's part of why UA has the cleanest rep across the world."
"I need more than just guesses. We need solid information. Things we can work with."
"I'll get it. Keep working on Recovery Girl and I'll handle this. Deal?"
"Deal."
And maybe it is a weakness, but she sits down and has breakfast with her husband. They don't talk, but she also doesn't kick him out.
-TDB-
Fumikage Tokoyami does not return to class after speaking to Aizawa. He sees little point in doing so now. Expulsion is not something he ever expected to be a major consideration in his life. The closest was nearly a decade ago when, in his rage, he had harmed another child. It had been home-schooling since then.
In less than six months at a formal institute, he finds he must leave again.
He returns his books to the library, gives his key card to a disapproving librarian, and heads to the locker room. The dark cloak of his costume feels heavy this day. Unclasping it, he places it in its case and follows through with the rest of the costume.
The shower calms him slightly. In the empty room, with frigid water spraying down, no one can his tears and any tremors are from the cold and not choked sobs. His hands shake violently as he towels his body dry, but no one enters, no one comes close to seeing this moment of weakness.
It feels wrong to wear the UA blazer and so he doesn't, leaving him only in his white shirt without the red tie. The trousers from his costume replace the standard UA trousers. It may look a bit odd but he's seen weirder. And it means he won't have to wear the colours of this place that has abandoned him.
You deserve worse.
"Silence."
It is too late. Already, that simple sentence has wormed its way in his mind, uprooting all his fears and insecurities. He'll have to face his mother and prove her right. He'll have to face his father's disapproval. Worst of all, he'll have to bear the pity of his classmates.
And that makes him angry.
"Damn you."
One deep breath. One long breath. Repeat. He does so until the world isn't shades of red. Once his emotions have been mastered, Fumikage heads to his former class. They have a free period due to the final exam. He may as well face them now before leaving.
The door is so familiar yet seem so alien to him now. When he enters, he feels like an intruder to a place that has become a second home.
There are sixteen students—I'm sorry, Kouda, I'm sorry Hagakure, I should have saved you, I should have been better—and they aren't his classmates any longer. Most of them are doing their own thing or engrossed in conversation. They ignore him because what reason would they have to pay attention to him. Wearing parts of his costume isn't odd, not when Kaminari and Ochaco do the same. No one pays him the slightest bit of attention.
Except for Izuku. He looks up from his game of cards the moment Fumikage enters.
"Hey," he says with a bright smile from even brighter green eyes. "You took forever. Everything alright?"
"Hey, you alright man?" Kirishima asks, standing from his seat beside Ashido. "You kinda look like you went through a ringer."
"You passed, right?" Uraraka asks.
And just like that, Fumikage realises this is a mistake. These fools, these naïve idiots who know nothing of the horrors seeking to break the world, love him in their own way. And he knows from the way they care for Izuku, from the way Izuku cares for Shouto, they would love him all the same no matter his crimes.
His throat is tight, a noose tightened around his neck. He fails to form a single word, unable to breathe under the crushing weight of their kindness.
"I know it sucks but it happens," Uraraka continues, looking as worried as Ashido beside her. "Right, Midoriya?"
Izuku ducks his head. "Yeah. I failed as well. It's not the end of the world and wow, it's weird doing this entire reassuring thing."
His mind finally catches up. Slowly, he regains mastery over his body. "No, it is not," he says, hoping his words are steady.
From the way Todoroki suddenly focuses on him, he has failed. They share a glance and, at that moment, he understands that Todoroki knows. Perhaps he knows everything. Yet, Shouto smiles as though wishing him luck.
Once, at the beach, they had made a promise. The three of them till the very end. And right now, Shouto is telling him he can find out who he is away from them and come back whenever he pleases. This is an ending, that smile says, but not the end of us.
It gives him the resolve to speak.
"I simply came to say goodbye," he says evenly.
"Are you feeling sick?"
"No. Just…" He looks to Asui who makes no secret of her disapproval. "You were right."
She cocks her head. "What happened?"
Fumikage shrugs. "Oh, I was just expelled."
There is a single moment of silence, so thick with tension that you could cut it with a blade and it would bleed rainbow ichor. It is the silence that comes from a fundamental truth being dispelled, dark and cloying and as subtle as a hammer to the face. It hits with the same force if Kaminari falling off his desk is any indication.
His crash breaks the silence. And then there is a cacophony of voices, all vying to be the loudest.
"Huh?"
"—Nani—"
"—The fuck is this shit you're—"
"—How the hell—"
There are too many voices for him to make sense of them all. Not that he can with how Izuku is very suddenly in front of him. His friend is taller than him. Before it was an inch or two at best. But ever since his time in the abyss with Shouto, he stands nearly a head taller than Fumikage. That still makes them the two shortest people in the class.
"Who did this?" Midoriya asks, no, he growls in threat. "Who did this to you?"
A week ago, he would have taken a step back in fear. "I did this to me. And I will bear the consequences."
Izuku grips his shoulder. He feels bone creak under the tremendous strength his friend holds without thought.
"I'm not losing any of my friends."
Fumikage bats his hand away. He knows it occurs only because Izuku permits it to occur. Physical strength was never his gift. And without Dark Shadow to supplement it, perhaps it never will be.
"Then talk to Aizawa and not me," he snaps, knowing it is unfair and not caring. "Just let me go."
Asui grabs Izuku's hand. That aborts Izuku's lunge. "Stop. Let him go."
"But—"
"She's right," Fumikage agrees. "This is not your fault. Not your responsibility. Just… I'm sorry. Thank you, and goodbye."
"Izuku, stop," Shouto demands quietly. "Please, just stop."
He hears one last thing before he leaves. "Can someone explain what the fuck just happened?"
He can feel their eyes on him as he walks out the school, sixteen sets of eyes just watching the retreating form of his back. The journey to his house is long and silent.
-TDB-
Shouta Aizawa is tired to the very core of his being. Filling out Fumikage's expulsion form saps away at his energy and will with each ticked box and typed explanation. Signing at the bottom and completing the process is the last straw.
He eats one bag of salted liquorice miserably. Then two more. He contemplates seeing Nemuri or perhaps Hizashi. They would both know what to say. They both know him better than he is willing to admit and would know how to ease his heart.
But that smacks of cowardice. He told Fumikage to live with the consequences. It would be nothing short of hypocrisy if he couldn't do the same.
Nezu's office is the very top of UA, the highest floor and overlooking the entrance to the institution. Supposedly, he watches students enter for their exam every year, marking those out with potential from a distance. In truth, he rarely looks to the gates, always too busy with one matter or another to cast his eyes away from a screen too long.
"Nezu, we have a problem."
The rodent-dog-bear-thing looks up from his computer, startled. He blinks as though still lost in thought.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said we have a problem."
Nezu sighs loudly, returning to his device.
"Shouta, we've had a problem every day for the last month. Would it be one of your students?" Shouta frowns but nods. "What else has young Todoroki done now?"
Shouta grunts. "Todoroki?"
"Yes. Endeavour's son. Random black eye he chose to never explain. That one. The one spouting black fire as if it's going out of fashion."
Shouta hisses in frustration. Are all his students trying to give him a heart attack? What's next? Will Yaoyorozu reveal hat she's a Goddess of Creation?
"What?"
Nezu finally looks at him, looking away from his tablet.
"Oh, you had no idea. During his exam, he used black fire. I would have pulled up the police report from the Stain incident, but his father is blocking me at every turn. And from your confusion, it was another student. The most likely candidate would be young Tokoyami."
"Well, his quirk is like Midoriya's from what he's told me."
Nezu hums. "Those arms had black flames. Shouto has black flames. I haven't reviewed the footage from his battle with Ectoplasm yet with how I've been concerned on Shouto—oh, that's why Ectoplasm marked his report as urgent. What happened?"
"His quirk mutated further. During the test, he had a pack of what looked like quicksilver dogs and a flock of glass crows."
"That is worrying but not critical. Those abilities can be hidden. What can't be hidden is Endeavour's son being associated with the Purge of Shikkoku if he uses his flames in public. The stadium attack at least drew attention away from Fumikage's abilities and—"
"He's working for the Imperial family," he says bluntly, completely derailing Nezu.
The pen in Nezu's hand shatters. The two pieces clatter to the ground with dull thuds.
"Why?" There's a coldness to his gaze. "Money? No. Not interested in material gains like Aoyama or Uraraka. Privilege? No, not Bakugou. He's not an easily swayed fanatic and he'd tell Midoriya if he was being threatened… Midoriya, whose father works for the Imperials. No, not that. Can't be that. They showed him something his honour demands that he face,"
He stares at Nezu, reminded once more of why he fears the rodent's intelligence. In under a minute the man has worked out what Aizawa needed to be told.
"There's still time to convince him otherwise. Three weeks is not enough. I can… I can break the indoctrination. No, three weeks is too long. Fuck. Where is he?"
"Home, probably. I expelled him."
Nezu cocks his head, observing Shouta and seeing everything he tries to hide. In that one moment, everything he keeps close to his heart is exposed to the principal.
The rodent stands and walks towards the wall on the right. He taps it in an odd pattern and the wall slides away to reveal a biometric sensor. Nezu places his paw over it.
The ground shakes suddenly and violently. Shouta crouches immediately, glancing once and seeing Nezu unperturbed by the event. He rushes to the window and scans the horizon. There, at one of their training grounds, is a cloud of thick smoke.
He watches in horror as the training ground falls to ruin, building collapsing over each other. It doesn't take very long, but undoubtedly everyone in the school is watching this play out. As it is, he can see some of the third-year students streaming outside, trying to understand what is going on.
"What the hell?"
"Shouta Aizawa," the principal says, voice as hard as steel, "you just expelled a student with a quirk possibly as dangerous as Midoriya or Todoroki. You just told the Imperial family that they can have him without a fight. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He recoils. Nezu is never angry. Annoyed, sometimes stressed, but not outwardly angry like this.
"He was willing to sacrifice other lives."
"Your morals don't matter!"
Those words echo in the room. Nezu breathes hard, chest heaving and eyes with a spark of maniacal genius.
"Of all things, you could have done, why did you choose expulsion? Why do you have to do the most expected thing every single time? Why can't you change and try something different? Are you actively trying to sabotage me?"
"I'm—"
"Shut up. Your greatest weakness is your arrogance." Nezu points with a long claw. "You always think you know what's right when you know nothing. He's out of my sphere of influence. By my predictions, the variety and versatility of his creatures make him a high A-rank threat now. What if he has a few dozen more he didn't reveal? What if any of them are like what Midoriya became? You just gave away a walking army in your fucking arrogance."
Only Nezu's harsh breathing interrupts the silence. The rodent looks close to violence and it shocks Shouta to the core. In all the years he's known the principal, the rodent has never sworn, never looked this close to physical violence.
He takes an unconscious step back, unsure of what's to come.
"When you expelled Rei, I was ready to fire you." Shouta freezes. "One of the more powerful wind quirks since Stormwind and now she's stuck in a mental institute and hasn't used it once. I had every reason to get rid of you. Instead, I decided to train you properly. You were a benefit these last two years. I could count on you to deal with everything short of assassination. But now you've given away Tokoyami. Your vendetta with Inko Midoriya means Izuku is outside our grasp."
"He's my student."
"No," Nezu snaps. "He is his father's son. And don't for a single second think you can win any sort of fight against Hisashi. I've used every single resource I could to assess that man. And the only thing I could find is that he took on the entire Royal Guard and walked away. Not years ago, but a few weeks ago. I wouldn't be confident of taking on a single Royal Guard with all of UA's staff."
Nezu takes a moment to steady his breathing. Then he walks to his desk and rummages through a drawer. The rodent withdraws a pack of cigars and a lighter. The rodent lights one and takes a long drag, raising one claw to stall Shouta from saying anything.
And when he is done with that, he throws the pack at the wall.
Nezu sits in his chair calmly, as if he hasn't just lost total control of his reactions.
"I may be powerful but I can't control Endeavour. The man's a force of nature. He's threatening to pull Shouto out and train him privately if I don't stop prying. And what will the world say when Japan's number two hero pulls his son out of UA. Our reputation will burn."
Nezu laughs, his face in his paws. There is a level of pessimism Shouta never thought he would ever associate with Nezu.
"I've never been outplayed quite like this by my enemies," he says bitterly. "And yet, in a single afternoon, you've set most of my plans on fire. Aizawa, I won't fire you because I don't need to give off the impression of further disunity to our enemies.
"I can fix this."
"No, you can't. All you do is make problems for me to fix. But you're going to deal with the camp. Organise extra security. Maybe get the Big Three. Whatever you do, don't make things worse for me whilst I run damage control. Now get out and let me fix your mess."
And then Nezu turns away from Shouta to stare at the collapsing training ground.
-TDB-
Fumikage Tokoyami finds both his parents at home.
His mother is recovering from her injuries during the Sports Festival and won't be doing much but lying around for a few weeks. His father has never worked. It makes sense from the stories he has heard. He can't imagine the hulking mountain of muscle with blades sharp as rage would do well in any work environment. Or even make it through without a death.
"Why are you back early?" his mother asks from her seat on the couch. She doesn't look away from the screen for more than a few moments, reminding him just how valued he is.
He sets his bag down by the doorway and walks forward. His father reads a newspaper, his tiny glasses looking ridiculous when the pale man has more muscle on his neck than any reasonable person should have.
"I was expelled," he says casually, fighting to keep his anger controlled. "You finally have your wish."
"What did you say?"
Her shrill voice sets him off. It's the same tone she takes every time she berates him. Now that he thinks about it, that's the only tone she's taken with him for the last few months.
"I said I was expelled!"
The weight of his father's presence crashes down on him. The man hasn't looked up from his newspaper but there is no doubt his full attention is on Fumikage.
"Boy, do not speak to your—"
He slams the expulsion letter on the table, regardless of how terrifying his father can be.
"Enough. I don't care what you have to say. I know the man you are and it's not the man I want to be."
His father sets his newspaper down slowly. Deliberately.
"Be very careful of your next words. I will not accept that kind of arrogance in this household."
"You're a murderer. Whatever redemption you think you'll receive by playing this role will never come. Your hands are stained red and they will never be clean. Nothing you do will erase your past!"
He's breathing hard, chest heaving from shouting so much. And maybe he's not simply shouting at his father. Maybe he's shouting at the person he will become if he continues down this road. There is blood on his hands, unintentional and nowhere near as much as his father's, but it makes them more similar than he would like to admit.
Two violent fools chained to their rage.
Like father, like son.
As he glares at the man, a flash of understanding passes through his mind. If he stays here, then he won't change. He'll just become a clone of his father.
His father very slowly stands. "You know nothing. You have seen nothing."
"I've seen more than you could ever imagine."
He lets his presence extend. It is like light and shadow all at once, and the rattling of thousands of chains fills the room. It is the howling of bloody hounds and the caw of glass crows. It is the powerful whoosh of a dragon's wings before it pounces and shreds you with its claws.
If it must come to a fight, then Fumikage is prepared.
"You two need to stop right now," his mother finally says.
"Silence yourself," Fumikage says callously. "You love this monster but you could never support me being a hero. You think forgiving this monster will make you a better person. What value does your opinion have?"
A crushing and oppressive weight settles over the room. The air is thick and hard to breathe. He looks to his father who has taken a single step forward, burning chains settling around his forearms. It is him that makes time stand still with the intensity of his rage.
"Do not speak"—one step forward and Fumikage smells the cloying scent of a thousand corpses left to rot—"to your mother"—a second step and the weight intensifies, pressing down on his back like a mountain felled by a god—"Like that."
A week ago, this would have been enough to leave him lying on the ground in tears. Today, he simply juts his chin in defiance. He forces his presence against his father's. Two immaterial forces clash in their home, a prelude to what may come.
The scent of blood to be shed fills the air, almost drenches them in it. One wrong word and they will come to blows. Maybe he shouldn't press the matter, but he refuses to accept another loss. Not from anyone.
"I will speak as I please."
His father inhales and it sets his eyes aflame. They are menacing and would force a mortal man to stop in their tracks. For Fumikage, those eyes are nothing.
"Then leave my home."
It is said with finality.
There is no recourse here, no chance for forgiveness. His father has spoken a commandment. He feels the invisible chains binding him to his parents snap. They don't see it, but he can observe how the immaterial chains clatter to the ground.
Another end, he thinks, watching the links shatter to a thousand pieces.
"No," his mother says, eyes watering. "You don't need to go that far."
"The boy seems to believe in his godhood. Let him face the real world without our protection. And when he inevitably fails, he can crawl home and apologise."
"So be it," Fumikage says. "I'll prove to you that I do not need you."
He heads towards his room, ignoring the harsh whispers his parent's exchange. His mother sounds angrier than ever before even if his father refuses to budge
On his bed, he finds a package that he doesn't remember receiving. He opens the box. Inside, resting on red velvet, are two blades. Both are straight and double-edged, and neither is longer than his forearm. He knows them to be tanto.
Most importantly, they are a brilliant white. The waves from the folding process are distinct, a vivid shade of blue that seems to glow with their own light. He picks one up, surprised at how heavy it is, and touches the metal. It is frigid to the touch and he can tell from the way they slice the air and leave sparks that they aren't natural to the real world.
No, these are abyssal weapons. The same that were used against him during his time with the Doki Mariner. He would recognise them any day. They sliced through Dark Shadow and perhaps could have killed his companion.
The moment he cuts his thumb on accident, he feels his energy drain. The ripples on the blades glow brighter the longer he allows them to steal his energy. He shakes his head and sheathes them in the accompanying white scabbard.
He wears the costume that Maya made for him, an improvement in every way from his first childish design. Better to walk out proud than weak and miserable. He finds his new belt has straps on the back that accommodate the tanto perfectly.
He doesn't look at his parents as he walks through his home for the last time. There is a cheque in his hand signed for more money than they should need in the next five years. It is the last obligation he has to them and he discharges it by placing the piece of paper on the table.
"Goodbye, mother. Father."
He stops at the threshold of the door, teeth gritted painfully.
"I will not be back."
The door shuts quietly and just like that, an entire chapter of his life has ended.
Closing that door means turning his back on his childhood, on his dreams of being a hero. The anger leaves him slowly, drip by drip of rage leaving his system until he simply feels empty. He walks aimlessly, thinking of every decision he has ever made, and how it has come to this. Expelled and kicked out in one day.
There is one person he can trace to these events, one person he knows won't betray him as abruptly as Asui or Aizawa of his father. And, if he's being quite honest, neither gave him more than a few seconds before breaking all ties.
He removes his phone and makes a call.
On the second ring, she picks.
"Maya, I need you. Please."
He waits a long few minutes alone, leaning against the wall.
A burst of light nearly blinds him. There she is, Maya Yotsuba, Izanami of the Royal Guard. Her blue eyes are just as cold as usual and her features hard. Her white uniform seems appropriate right now.
"What's wrong?"
He refuses to chuckle, no matter how bitter he is. In truth, he fears if he starts, they'll turn to uncontrollable sobs. Holding emotions in is hard enough. Forcing them back in after they've tasted freedom is harder still.
"Everything."
She approaches him slowly. He wonders how agonising it must be to move at a speed he can process. Her hands rise slower still, almost uncertain. For the first time, he notices that there is a subtle glow beneath her skin.
Warm palms settle on his cheeks and long fingers wrap around his neck lightly. She smiles, gentle as a sharp blade and just as honest as a corpse for the dead tell no lies. There is something unnervingly graceful in seeing her features soften.
"I'm here and I will protect you," she whispers and he knows it is the truth.
"Why?" he chokes out, throat heavy.
"Because you're my Inquisitor. My Fumikage. I dressed you in white silk and gave you your knives. I own you just as much as you own me."
"I'm just another asset to be used and thrown away."
"My asset. My special asset," she says fiercely.
He knows she is manipulating him, but she's never lied to him. She might be using his need for validation against him, but he made the call and knew what would come from it.
"I've lost everything," he says weakly. "My friends. My family. The children. Everyone who loved me."
She shakes her head slowly, dark hair covering her eyes. And yet, the intensity of her gaze never once vanishes.
"Not me. Never me."
"Promise?"
Her long fingers brush the knot of his red necktie. She unwraps it with deft fingers and each touch sends shivers down his spine.
He wonders what she sees when the last binding falls away. The line between bird and human has never bee clean. It is a jagged mess of ropy flesh, tiny quills, and scar tissue. As horrifying as the scars Midoriya has, but perhaps worse for this is natural.
Yet, she doesn't look at him any different. If anything, she hardly seems to notice. No, that's wrong. She simply doesn't have any interest.
"I promise."
The certainty in that word is freeing. It is an oath between them and he feels the chains of that promise tighten like a noose. He sees her and sees all that she is. A woman possessed of cruelty, ruthlessness and violence. This is a woman who could easily kill a dozen people and feel nothing. But she's always been honest about her nature.
And the one thing he's learnt in the month he's known her is that she is loyal. Loyal to her family. Loyal to her Emperor. Loyal to Fumikage.
She will never betray him first. Not like Aizawa. Not like Asui. Not like his father. He can trust in that loyalty because she is ruthless, cruel, and violent.
"Let's go," he says at last, deciding there are worse people to trust.
"Where?"
"Wherever home is."
A/N:
So, today's the one-year anniversary of this story. It's kinda weird saying that because it doesn't really feel that long. I guess time flies. There have been some major highs and lows with this story, and I've come to resent it just as much as a I love writing it. We're what? 330K posted? Way more written and scrapped. It's been a crazy ride writing this whilst in school and I've learnt a lot about myself in the process.
I suppose it's auspicious that season 3 ends one year after I set out to tell this crazy story. At the beginning, this was just a pipe dream of Izuku maybe having different powers, maybe having better training. And then, as I stared writing it, I had to figure out why the world of BNHA is the way it is and that left me a lot of room to build on. You'd be surprised by just how horrifying canon is when you spend a few minutes thinking about it. One thing led to another and now we have this, some weird Lovecraftian horror story moonlighting as a political drama and socioeconomic analysis (which makes me sound much smarter and more qualified than I am).
You've seen the factions from UA to the League to the Imperial Household to China and Taiwan. You've seen the major players and gotten a taste of what they all want. You know Endeavour isn't defined solely by his A+ parenting and All Might isn't infallible. You know who Kurogiri is and why he follows the enigmatic All For One. You know about Hisashi and those he worked for before. The first 3 seasons are, in many ways, the necessary setup for the arc I've been waiting to tell.
You needed to know the stakes for everything to come. You needed to know why people were so opposed to each other and why they accepted compromises with their enemies. you needed to understand the threat each faction posed. Most of all, you needed to know the characters and their failings to understand why they'll do what they're about to do. Buckle up, because you haven't seen anything yet.
Because, in season 4, we go to war.
Thank you for sticking with me and see you soon.