A/N: Hi! Just a quick apology for the longer than usual wait- sorry, the editing took a while.

A quick warning: there are a few mentions of self-harm, though it's mostly taken from cannon. And as usual, I own nothing and I hope you enjoy the chapter :D


Life settled into a routine shortly after Izuku had learned to read.

Kurogiri would warp Izuku away to private tutors for lessons. Tenko knew what the lessons would be like- he'd been taught the same way. The tutors were always cold, always distant, but they always would push him the furthest he could go.

Tenko had learnt the same way, because knowledge was power. Tenko had learnt the same way, because the tutors would never ask questions, would never think of turning any of them in, so long as they were paid.

Tenko had learnt the same way, and somewhere, there were real qualifications on a fake identity. With knowledge, he could slip convincingly enough into any of the roles already carefully prepared, just in case. Tenko had learnt the same way, so he could escape if he needed to. But Tenko had learnt the same way so he'd never need to escape.

And so Izuku would learn under tutors that didn't care and didn't ask questions, because it would keep him safe. He wouldn't be turned in. He wouldn't be asked questions. And it didn't matter that the tutors didn't care, because Kurogiri and Sensei and Tenko cared.

It was unspoken, the way Izuku had settled into their lives, the way he'd now belong. The fact he was being taught meant that he would be there in the future. The fact he was being taught meant that he might need to keep himself safe, later.

Meanwhile, Tenko was earning a name for himself as a villain. It was a new name, a different name. He couldn't risk being identified, Sensei said.

So he had another name.

Tomura Shigaraki.

And that was the name that people were beginning to recognise. That was the name people were associating with the League of Villains. That was the name people would one day associate with the end of heroes.

Sensei was really the one doing most of the work. He just told Tenko where to go and who to talk to.

Sensei had all the contacts, he knew who Tenko would need on his side to make his dream a reality.

So Tenko had trusted Sensei. They were small errands, really. Sometimes they ended well, and when Tenko reported to Sensei, the man would sound smug. He was proud of Tenko, and that was all Tenko had ever really wanted.

But sometimes, the meeting didn't end well. Sometimes, civil conversations would wither and crumble into yelling, and then the yelling would descend into violence. Sometimes, Tenko would walk away covered in blood. Sometimes Tenko would limp back to Kurogiri and Sensei, bleeding and injured, but victorious.

Izuku never found out about the missions that didn't go so well. He was always asleep when Tenko would stagger into the bar, injured and irritable.

But in the days after the missions, Tenko would always have dark rings under his eyes, his hands would shake and he would snap if anyone asked him anything. In the days after the missions, Tenko was vulnerable and often lost in thought.

One time was all it took, though. The mission in question had been particually bad. It had been a trap from the start, and Tenko had no choice but to kill one of his attackers to escape.

"Hah, they just sent a kid? Oh well, this just makes everything easier."

It wasn't the first time he'd killed someone. When he'd been on the streets, he'd done what he had to survive, and he hadn't always had the best control over his quirk. But he still hated the feeling of something living, pulsing, breathing crumbling to nothing under his hands.

He hadn't said anything to Sensei or Kurogiri, only that the mission had failed, and then he'd refused to talk after that. It appeared that they'd both decided to give him space, let him open up when he was ready. Even Izuku had been quieter that day, eyeing Tenko timidly and with concern written all over his face.

So he'd sat there in the bar sullenly, staring at nothing and trying not to see the dying light in the man's eyes.

A sudden noise startled him out of his thoughts, and he saw Izuku stumble, having tripped over his own feet. On instinct, completely thoughtless, Tenko grabbed Izuku's arm to pull him up.

All five fingers met Izuku's arm, and his skin began to crumble. Tenko immeditately recoiled in horror, staring as Izuku's eyes filled with tears.

Then he turned and ran, because he was sickened with himself, because he'd messed up, because he really, really didn't want to see Izuku cry and know he was the cause of it.

Because there was already an apology to a dead man in his throat and he couldn't trust himself to speak, even to the boy he saw as a little brother.


Back when Tenko had been surviving on the streets, he'd killed someone. Back when Tenko had been surviving on the streets, he'd run in to trouble nearly every single day. One of those times, he'd been sorely outnumbered.

It had been a small group. They all had weak quirks, but they'd banded together and were almost unstoppable- or it seemed like it to Tenko.

He'd tried to fight- he always had- and he'd ended up choking, desparately gasping for breath as hands curled around his throat and darkness crawled accross his vision. He remembered, even years later, the way he'd clawed frantically at the hands, and the way his lungs began to burn. He remembered feeling lost, scared and helpless.

And he'd always remember the way the way the pressure coiled around his throat like a snake had crumbled away, like a flower being pulled apart, petal by petal.

He had been so, so scared, so, so helpless.

He remembered clawing at his neck afterwards, as he sobbed and breathed. He was alive, he had survived... But the one who'd tried to kill him hadn't.

They had hit the floor limply, and their friends had scattered after that. They were unmoving, cold and lifeless. Blood blossomed from their still form. Tenko flinched away and ran and ran until his legs gave up somewhere very far away.

He'd sat there for a while, slouched in the shadows, crying, shaking and breathing. And he'd scratched at his neck until he was really sure that there weren't hands there anymore, until he was sure he really was actually safe.

Until some of the blood on his hands was actually his own.

He hid in the shadows of the more crowded streets after that. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to see the lifeless form of the person he'd... he'd killed.

Then people started seeing him. He knew they saw him. He saw the disgust in their eyes. He saw the pity too.

It had been a long, long time since someone pitied him.

But he also heard the whispers as they passed him.

"The heroes will come and save him."

But... But if that were true, then where were the heroes? Where? His fingers dug into his neck.

The heroes hadn't saved him when he was dying. They hadn't. He'd had to save himself. And-

And where were the heroes to save the one he'd killed. He hadn't wanted to- he really didn't mean to!

He'd just wanted to breathe again, and they'd paid the price.

"The heroes will come and save him."

That was a lie. The heroes weren't coming.

But then Sensei came. Sensei saved him. Sensei was his hero.

Everything had become better after that.

He'd never had fight for food or shelter. He'd never had to sleep in the rain.

"Hah, they just sent a kid? Oh well, this just makes everything easier."

And before that one night, he'd never had to kill either.

He sat in his room, and saw blank, glassy eyes and blood blossoming like flowers. He had been helpless again. Helpless and scared and stained.

He wasn't aware that he was clawing at his neck until Izuku peered around the door, eyes round and timid.

There was a pause, and Tenko could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears.

Then, with a cry, Izuku rushed forwards and pulled Tenko's hands away from his neck.

"What are you doing?" Izuku's eyes were full of tears, full of fear and shock. But no hatred, no pity. Izuku's eyes were full of kindness and life. "Are you okay?"

"I..." Tenko's voice came out raspy and hoarse.

I'm fine.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to.

I just wanted...

I just wanted things to go well.

"It happens." He said instead, and the words were hollow, empty. A lie filled with half a truth.

Izuku stared, aghast for a moment. "It shouldn't." He couldn't seem to look away from the scratches on Tenko's neck, still bleeding slugglishy and stinging like the tears he couldn't cry. "You shouldn't... Please don't do that to yourself!"

Maybe it was something in Izuku's eyes. Care and warmth and concern. Maybe it was because Izuku was like him, Izuku would understand. Maybe it was because the burning feeling in his eyes was suddenly overpowering.

"I-I didn't mean to!" Idly, he realised he was crying. The tears burned at his face and his fingers twitched compulsively. It hurt. It hurt and his neck itched and his heart was an ugly, bleeding mess.

"I-I didn't mean to k-kill them." The whisper was quiet. His voice was hoarse with crying and guilt, but Tenko knew Izuku had heard him, with the way his eyes had widened.

Shock. Complete and utter shock. Izuku looked like his world had just shattered all over again.

Tenko had known on some level that Izuku had seen them all as heroes. How could he not? Tenko knew what it was like to be saved. To suddenly have his entire world transformed into something so wonderful and full of light that he hadn't even dared to dream it could exist. Tenko still saw Sensei as a hero. Even though he knew that Sensei was a villain.

And that was why Tenko had tried to hide everything from Izuku. Because Izuku didn't deserve to have the illusion of everything being okay and safe and happy break apart again. Because Tenko didn't think he could handle Izuku hating him.

But...

"They're praised and famous and it all seems so glamourous. But they're all fake."

Tenko forced himself to look away from Izuku. He didn't want to see the look of betrayal he knew was coming.

"I want to destroy them."

"That's right." He said, and his voice was hollow and hoarse and heartless. "I'm a villain."

He closed his eyes and waited for the sound of footsteps. He closed his eyes and waited for Izuku to run away. That was what people did. They ran away from villains so they would survive. They ran away from monsters because they were afraid.

So Tenko was completely taken by surprise when a small form barreled into his side and clung there stubbornly.

"I don't care about any of that." Izuku wailed. "None of it matters! Just d-don't hurt yourself p-please."

Tenko paused, and stared numbly at Izuku. Izuku... didn't care? But he never liked violence. He'd hate the thought of Tenko killing anyone. He'd hate Tenko now. So why didn't he care?

"I hurt you." He pointed out dully, failing to stop the giult from leaking into his voice.

"It was an accident." Izuku mumbled. "You didn't mean to."

"But-"

This was all wrong. Izuku should hate him. Izuku should be scared of him. Izuku should blame him.

"People make mistakes all the time." Izuku interrupted, making Tenko smile slightly. The boy really had changed from the timid, scarred child that Tenko had saved from the street.

"So promise me that you'll never do that again." Izuku's voice was solemn and serious and he sounded so much older in that moment.

"I'll try." Tenko promised. It was harder and harder to think of glassy eyes and silence and blood like blossoms when Izuku was hugging him like he'd never let go. "I'll try my best."

"So you don't need to worry, Izuku. We'll get this all sorted out."

"And I'll help." Izuku promised, managing a smile. "So we'll get through this."

Tenko laughed weakly. "When did you get so good at helping people?"

"So what if you're quirkless? That doesn't change anything."

Izuku shrugged. "Must've picked it up from you guys."

Tenko snorted. His fingers twitched and he wanted so badly to claw at his neck, but he'd promised. So instead, he ruffled Izuku's hair, carefully so he didn't destroy anything.

"Never change, Izuku."

Maybe he was a villain. Maybe he was a bad guy. But it was all going to be okay, because Izuku had promised it would, and that was enough for Tenko to cling on to. He'd be able to fight his was back now.

"Let's get back to the bar now. Kurogiri and Sensei are worried too." Izuku suggested brightly, and just like that, pulled Tenko back into the light.

And back in the bar, with Kurogiri fretting, Sensei's quiet concern and Izuku's reassuring smile, Tenko could believe that things were going to be okay.