No, Kabuto, you shouldn't name your pet Noumu Enji, it'll develop a complex.

"I'm not the medic." Kabuto complained at the villains. Sakura-san had spent most of her life defying the stereotype that medics stayed to the sidelines, while mother never had the chance to be anywhere but on the battlefield (espionage totally counted). "I don't care what Needs-a-Bath-Scratchyhands says. Look at me, I'm clearly the thief." (of lives, and Samples!)

But mother's creed was that, being a medic, first and foremost, one was expected to utilize any and all means at one's disposal to ensure the health and safety of one's patients. In this case, Aizawa-sensei, whose health and safety was clearly in danger. The villains weren't good listeners though. They rudely blocked his way and refused to give him feedback, which meant he was perfectly justified taking the most efficient path towards his goal.

Precise application of lethal force cleared the former S-Rank a path through the rabble, just in time to touch the tips of his fingers on Eraserhead's face. Being from a doujutsu-obssessed world, healing sensei-'s eyes was easy. Hopefully, Midoriya-san wouldn't follow him. But given the wide variety of specimens in front of him, and the sad fact that he had no way to get a tissue biopsy (mist fragment?) from the portal-quirked man, Kabuto had sadly turned his eyes from the most fascinating of the enemies (taking samples from them wasn't morally reprehensible!) to the less. Since his sensible, sensible mother had made sure he wore protective gear, most projectiles and glancing punches were dispersed by the armor, and even when he didn't quite manage to dodge a blow (the lack of gathering chakra to forewarn attacks was a bit of a headache), he remained unhurt.

The barest brush of fingers brought Eraserhead's dry eyes sudden relief and clarity. He jerked away from the opponent who had managed to sneak up on him to see Yakushi, already back into the thick of the fray, a trail of corpses leading from the side to where Aizawa had stood, and a few unconscious bodies already piled at the boy's feet.

The brat had the sheer audacity to wink at him, fearless more out of confidence than arrogance, as he avoided blows with the minimum of movement, dodged attacks so smoothly that they appeared to pass through him, and continued to blatantly not take anything seriously as he stopped to take samples from downed villains, absentmindedly moving out of the way of attacks from increasingly scared assailants.

As Shouta jumped into the air again, he realized what Yakushi was doing. His target was the group at the top, and while the boy (inexplicably) could clearly handle the minor thugs-for-hire, the three at the top were clearly a different matter. He shouted for his student to stop, but it was too late--Kabuto had taken a running leap that brought him onto the dark thing's back, and he used his momentum to swing onto its shoulders and jab a syringe into it neck. That wouldn't work, the thing's super-healing would take care of any tranquilizer or poison the boy could possibly have, and the boy would be caught off guard and killed--Shouta desperately focused his eyes on the thing, hoping against hope that he would manage to erase the quirk in question, but miraculously, after Kabuto leapt off the goliath, it toppled, frozen, and began an endless cycle of twitching, freezing and convulsing then twitching again. What had the boy done?

His student ignored Shigaraki's scream of rage as he approached the downed beast casually. Back turned, he did something, then smirked, "Hey Shigaraki! To the winner goes the spoils. Your Noumu's mine now. Told you I was a thief!"

The boy touched the Noumu's exposed brain. "Up and at them, Enji!" He cheered.

To everyone's shock, the Noumu, which had been named Enji, apparently, obeyed.

Yakushi had named the Noumu Enji. If there had been any doubt about whether his mother's grudge had been inherited, it had been put to rest.

Shouta was done.

Yakushi was, among other things, far too well acquainted with the first responders, begging sweets off one of the drivers and switching his dirty white coat for a fresh one as he pulled on latex gloves and joined them in providing medical attention, un-pulverizing Midoriya's arms, getting Todoroki hot chocolate from someone, and somehow managing to treat Hagakure's scrapes and scratches despite not being able to see her.

All was well, until someone tried to take the Noumu into custody.

"Come on sensei!" Yakushi whined, "It wasn't Enji's fault that he got ordered around by two evil villains! He's innocent! They're just going to lock him up and forget about him and Enji doesn't deserve that!"

One of the paramedics choked.

Yakushi continued, "Please? I promise to feed him once a day, clean up after him, and get him his exercise! Besides, you heard Shigaraki, I'm a squishy medic! I'm helpless! Enji can be my meatshield!"

Shouta pointedly did not look at the neat line of dead bodies from Yakushi's hand, or the larger collection of groaning bleeding villains that was their shared work. Which reminded him, "Yakushi, what was in your syringe?"

"Will you let me keep Enji if I tell you?"

"Anything that can keep Enji down is a dangerous substance, Yakushi. Dispose of it, then maybe."

"It's air, sensei." Yakushi sighed. "Just plain air, nothing more, nothing less. Injected into Enji's bloodstream, it caused a stroke, and since it wasn't an object, it couldn't be pushed out. His healing might have found a bypass in time, but the healing isn't intelligent, and it was tied up in keeping Enji alive."

There was something very wrong with Oto. And even so, it remained one of the halfway decent entities in Japan. He needed to plan for the PTA meeting. Joy.

Did you think Shouta could have been majorly hurt when the medic who rivals Tsunade is present?Also, they kept the Noumu. Dadzawa is helpless when it comes to refusing the requests of his kids. Kabuto, little shit that he is, definitely knows it.