"This is the first time we've patrolled together since we graduated," Mic's grin is what Aizawa can only describe as shit-eating. After the new local mandate, heroes were required to patrol in teams of at least two. And, since the events of the USJ, UA's staff had been marked as probable targets of Stain, making this mandate all the more important for the like of them. Eraserhead was no exception to this rule.

"Eraserrrr~" Present Mic teases, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder as they walk. "You don't seem happy to be going on a patrol with me."

Aizawa buries his face into his capture weapon. "I'm fine."

"It tends to get pretty busy around here with the stadium which is why I like patrolling over here," Mic says. He lets his arm slide off Aizawa's shoulder, falling back into a more professional demeanor when the two of them catch sight of a familiar hero passing overhead.

The hero spots them after a few moments, turning to make an abrupt landing beside them.

"Air Jet," Aizawa greets, carefully studying him. "Where's Iida?" Aizawa honestly wasn't very well acquainted with the man, but he'd done his research on all the heroes his students were interning with. He has a clean, albeit small record. Iida had certainly gotten better offers, even without placing during the sports festival. But Air Jet's quirk was similar enough to Iida's for the choice not to draw much attention.

The hero looks nervous. "There was an event going on in the stadium. We were separated in the crowd of people leaving."

Mic glances around the area, but Aizawa's eyes don't leave Air Jet. "You lost him." "I– Yes."

"Do you think he might've returned to your office?" Mic asks from behind.

Air Jet shifts anxiously on his feet. "If he was there I would've gotten a call about it by now."

"We'll help look around. Call it in to your agency if you haven't already," Aizawa grunts, retreating into his scarf.

The hero seems to sag in relief. "Thanks. I'll let you know if I find him."

They separate from the hero, leaving him to scout the area from above as they continue to search on foot.

Soon enough the stadium that Mic had mentioned looms into view with the last trailing remains of the crowd that had separated Iida and Air Jet. His student, however, is nowhere to be seen.

"Something feels off," Aizawa murmurs his scarf.

Mic nods in agreement, a grim expression taking the place of his usually cheery one. "If he didn't go back to Air Jet's agency he would've at least tried to stay in the area."

Aizawa says nothing in response. A wrongness eats at him; a chanting whisper of 'nothing will be the same again' settles in his chest. He curses under his breath, pushing forward and leaving Mic to trail after him. He'd known internships were a bad idea, he'd known. Barely any time has passed since the USJ, Piper was dead, the LOV was still on the loose, and the Hero Killer had decided suddenly to relocate to Musuta—

Aizawa freezes. He turns back to Mic, his unearthly green eyes almost glowing in the gloom. "We're looking for the Hero Killer," Aizawa tells him.

"What?" He sounds confused, understandably so. "Why do y–" "Because Iida will be looking for him too."

That's all it takes for the lightbulb to flicker on, for gravity to shift its axis, leaving them to scramble for purchase. They'd all seen the news, sprawled out on the couch after a long day while Oboro was calling in an order for takeout. Iida Tensei was at death's door, paralyzed from the waist down, his career as a hero ripped brutally from his grasp at the hands of Stain.

Aizawa is desperate to disprove the chanting in his chest.

Nothing will be the same again.

Nothing will be the same again.

That's when they get the call. Aizawa's phone buzzes in his pocket, an urgent dispatch request for all available heroes. Stain had been sighted. There're no coordinates, only a vague, general location, but it's all the two heroes end up needing.

It's impossible to miss the scream.

It's quiet, barely audible from this distance, but it strikes like a bolt of lightning, jolting them into action.

He doesn't know how long it takes for them to get there. All he knows is that they get there too late . And that nothing will ever be the same again.

There's six people crammed into the alleyway. Shinsou is helping another kid up to his left and there're two people on the ground, one bleeding out next to the wall and the other face down in the

middle of the alley. There's two others as well, both poised in the middle, one crouched and one standing.

It takes Aizawa longer than he'd like to recognize the boy on the ground as his missing student. Iida, donned in everything but his helmet, lays prone on the concrete, unmoving.

The person crouching over him stands slowly. He doesn't look at Aizawa, instead turning to the only person still standing when he'd arrived.

His eyes turn a brilliant crimson upon recognizing the villain's silhouette. "Mic!"

The teenager picks up something metallic off the ground. The staff glints dimly in the darkness as the other hero rounds the corner.

There's a beat, a moment of hesitation, a lull in what surely must be Shouta's decision-making skills. The question escapes him subconsciously as he takes in the boy's form, the name on his lips nothing more than a mere whisper. "Piper?"

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Mic barely spares his husband a glance as he takes in the scene, just seconds behind him. Confusion floods through him as he too eyes the boy. Mic hesitantly calls out his student's name. It comes out slow, thick on his tongue like he's only meant to be testing it. "Midoriya?" The boy looks slowly back at them and the broken determination on his face alone is enough to throw Mic back into the USJ.

Aizawa's confusion dissolves. "Midoriya." Yamada's however, only grows. "Piper?"

Aizawa is the first to move, stepping towards the teens, capture weapon rising around his shoulders. "What happened?" Aizawa asks without preamble.

Midoriya does not answer, choosing instead to turn back towards Stain. "Why."

The villain says nothing, watching the two heroes stationed behind Izuku. Mic drops down beside Iida, quirk ill-suited to such close quarters where he was more likely to hurt one of his allies.

Midoriya growls, charging at the man. Stain's attention finally returns to Izuku. "I asked why you killed him!" It's a raw, broken, exclamation.

Aizawa pauses at the words. He glances back at where Mic is hovering over Iida. There's a strained fear on his husband's face that hadn't been there moments before. Something cold pulses through his limbs. "Mic, get them out of here and call for backup."

Izuku clashes weapons with Stain, it's violent and jarring and his fingers hurt from how tightly he's gripping his staff. But the hurt grounds him, keeps him in the moment, keeps him fighting.

"Midoriya!" Aizawa barks, "Get back!"

Izuku does not listen. He spins away, staff twirling dangerously between his hands. There's fire in his eyes and a cool numbness in his chest as a blade flies past his cheek, nicking his ear. It's not much, but it's enough to distract him and Stain takes the opportunity to viciously drive a second knife into his thigh. It hurts, of course it hurts. But Iida is lying cold behind him and the Detective is bleeding out and everyone else in the alley is still in danger. He grits his teeth and drives his staff directly into the villain's diaphragm. Stain stumbles back, taking both his knife and Izuku's blood with him.

The boy's vision flashes white for a moment, grunting in pain. He feels seconds away from taking a knee just to take pressure off his leg.

"Izuku!" Reo cries, voice cracking with panic. Shinsou loosely grabs at his arm, preventing him from running forward.

Aizawa curses.

Midoriya readies another attack as Stain brings the bloodied blade to his mouth. He cleans it with a flick of his tongue.

Nothing happens.

Izuku's attack goes through.

His staff cracks harshly against Stain's jaw in almost the same spot as before, cleanly snapping the man's head to the side and sending him stumbling. The villain takes a knee as Aizawa's capture weapon whips out from behind Izuku. One strand latches onto the villain, the other rips the katana from his hand, throwing it away from them.

Stain's head drifts slowly back towards them as he recovers from Izuku's blow. His eyes narrow with understanding when they land on Eraserhead, flickering back towards Midoriya for only a movement before returning to the hero. He's calm. Too calm for a captured villain.

"It seems I've run out of time," the villain states, "My job here, however, is already done."

"Your job?" Izuku croaks. He can feel angry tears welling in his eyes and he hates that they're there, hates that he's showing such weakness in front of the enemy. "He was fifteen. We're only fifteen." The waterworks start in full then and he turns his face away to hide them, angry and embarrassed and grieving for a kid he really didn't know all that well.

The same angry hurt that'd burned in Iida's eyes now burns in Izuku's. Stain takes note of it with narrowed eyes. "Careful not to lose your way, hero ."

" I'm not a hero ," Izuku grits out. He turns his head back towards where Present Mic has picked up Iida, cradling him gently against his chest. Izuku's face twists, stricken with an indescribable grief. He turns away from the sight.

There's sirens in the distance now, soft, barely there.

Stain flicks his wrist, a new blade sliding into place between his fingers. It's a good size, but it's small enough to be flung even in his restrained position. He flicks his hand and sends the blade flying. It spins through the air towards Aizawa.

Izuku sees it coming and skids into its path. "Midoriya!"

It stabs painfully into his shoulder. He grunts in pain, shoulder jerking back from the impact. He folds into himself for a moment, taking in a shaking breath before slowly rising again. He grits his teeth as he stares down at the villain, pain and fear simmering brightly in his eyes. "I'm not a hero," he repeats, "but I won't let you hurt anyone else here."

There's a grim look on Aizawa's face, but he doesn't look away from Stain, can't look away. "It's over," Aizawa states gruffly, tightening the capture weapon around the villain.

The sirens are growing louder by the second, but so is Stain's impatience. He cannot be stopped here.

"Why are you doing this," Shinsou croaks quietly from behind them, voice cracking like he's been crying or is on the brink of doing so. "Why are you––" He's got Naomasa's arm slung around his shoulders, struggling beneath the man's weight as Reo moves to help. His lilac eyes gleam fearfully but he has to do something . " Just why ." It's his last desperate attempt to get the villain to respond to him.

Stain's eyes find Midoriya's again. "It's all for the sake..." he says carefully, "of a better society." Fear freezes Shinsou in place as Stain stands slowly, arms still bound to his sides, mouth trickling blood, "Someone must purge the fakes... Someone must––"

Everyone feels the physical effect of the villain's words. Terror's clawed hand rakes its fingers through Shinsou's hair, whispering to him endless nightmares. His legs tremble; his heart races.

" Someone must be stained with blood... "

Once he's on his feet Stain strikes like a bolt of lightning, arms still bound to his sides, but legs free to swing a kick towards whoever's unlucky enough to be in front of him. The spiked tips of his boots glint in the darkness as they arc through the air.

Aizawa grabs roughly at Izuku's arm, trying to pull him away from the villain. But, the boy does not budge, planting a foot behind him to keep himself from being dragged away. Even in his sorry state he looks completely prepared to continue fighting. Midoriya is standing tall before them, surely just as scared as he and Reo. His legs too are shaking beneath him. All this time he's been fighting for them, to protect them at the risk of his own safety. He too had witnessed the death of their teammate, had been there for his last breath. And yet, his stance does not waver.

"If I don't fix it!" Stain shouts, eyes ablaze. Anyone can see he's prepared to tear through everyone here if it means getting away; if it means continuing his mission.

Shinsou pinches his eyes closed and activates his quirk. Stain's eyes glaze over.

The alley falls quiet.

Midoriya's knees buckle beneath him. He weeps.

Midoriya wakes to the sound of a heart monitor, familiar in a way he hoped it'd never be again. He'd stayed conscious long enough for the ambulance that arrived on scene to make it to the hospital. The murmur of paramedics calling his name, telling him to stay awake. He'd listened to

them for as long as he could, but he'd just been so tired .

Waking up now is such a completely different feeling to the aftermath of the USJ however. Blood loss hadn't been a problem then. He's certain, now that he's woken up still slightly faint and miserably tired, that he would've been caught if it had been.

He's in a large communal room, empty all except for the bed across from his. Izuku's eyes fall groggily on the room's only other inhabitant. It takes a while for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa is unmistakable even in the dark.

He doesn't know how long he sits there staring at the man, watching the rise and fall of his chest and listening to the beeping of his heart monitor just a second ahead of Izuku's own when the door slides open quietly. It lets light from the hall seep across the tiled floor. The person that slips through it is nothing more than a silhouette in the darkness, but they pause upon seeing Izuku sitting up, awake.

"Midoriya," and oh , the woman's voice is familiar, a soft whisper usually reserved for late nights and early mornings spent in Reo's room. "How are you feeling?" Misaki asks. She spares a glance back at Naomasa before her dark eyes settle back on Izuku.

She's wearing scrubs. He forgot she was a nurse.

Midoriya's tongue feels heavy in his mouth. "How is he?" he croaks out.

Misaki's eyes are impossibly kind, even so, the smile on her lips does not reach them. "He'll be okay. You've only been out for a few hours," she explains gently, answering the unasked questions in his eyes. "Reo and your other friend are still talking with the police right now. Your mom is with them."

"What about Eraserhead?" His mouth is dry. "The heroes that were there, what about them?"

Misaki reaches out to take his hand between hers. She's wearing gloves, some sort of latex surgical kind that wouldn't look out of place in a hospital. It's a foreign feeling compared to his mother's small, soft hands, but the feeling isn't unwelcome. The warmth of her hold seeps through the gloves, like a silent reassurance that everything will be okay. "Present Mic is with Reo and them. I think the black-haired one is... I think he's talking with the family."

She doesn't elaborate on who 'the family' is. She doesn't have to because Midoriya knows . He'd been there, he'd been complicit in the boy's death.

Misaki squeezes his hand gently, an inaudible warning to not indulge such thoughts. "Now, how do you feel?" she repeats.

He swallows thickly. "I could use some water."

Misaki eventually comes back with a bottle of water, doing what she can to distract him with idle chatter and Izuku lets her, desperate for it. She's buying time with stories of a young Reo, probably until the others return because now that he's looking more closely he can see the ruffled state of a few of the other beds around him.

She's in the middle of talking about Reo's prior fixation on Greek mythology when the boy himself slips quietly into the room. Just his posture alone gives away his exhaustion.

He pauses in the door as his mother turns in her seat. She scoots the chair back, giving the boy a better line of sight to where Midoriya's propped himself up in the bed.

"Izuku," Reo murmurs. He takes a cautious step towards the boy. In the light from the open door, Izuku can see that the cut on his cheek has healed completely, without even a bandage to cover the unblemished skin. And he's walking without so much as a hint of pain from where Stain had slammed his foot into his side. Even so, Reo almost stumbles towards him. He can't see it in the dark, but he can hear it in his voice. " Izuku ," the name breaks in his throat and once he's close enough Izuku can see the tears in his eyes.

This is the first time, Izuku realizes, that he's seen Reo genuinely cry. He's teared up before, angry with Izuku, with his self-endangerment. But he's never clung to Izuku like he is now, crying into his shoulder with barely repressed sobs. His grip is a little painful, tugging at least one of his injuries, but Izuku allows it. He clenches just as tightly to his friend, crumpling his shirt beneath trembling fingers.

They both watched someone die tonight, unable to protect the ones they love. Izuku had thrown himself at Stain and Reo had thrown himself over Iida.

Shinsou follows him into the room not long after with Present Mic in tow. He watches them silently from a distance. He sniffles once, twice. Tears build in his eyes despite how desperately he's trying to hold them back. Present Mic slips an arm around his shoulder, gently pulling him into his chest. It's soft enough for Shinsou to refuse should he wish, but he lets it happen. He presses his face into his shoulder, crying quietly, shoulders shaking.

Inko is the last to arrive. She does not cry, eyes instead hardened with concern. She eventually replaces Reo at his side, letting the last of his drying tears seep into her cardigan. She holds him tightly, wary of his wounds unlike Reo. The beating of her heart is slow and steady in his ear.

Misaki ushers the other two to bed, still tired from what he can only assume was a visit with Recovery Girl. She checks on Naomasa once before heading towards the door, waiting there for Inko.

Izuku's still so tired. She squeezes him tight once more before letting him settle back into bed. His eyes burn, impossibly dry after so much crying.

"Recovery Girl will be back in the morning," she murmurs softly into his hair, "get some more sleep."

Exhaustion pulls him under.

There's an alley in front of him, a café, a rooftop. Someone he knows is supposed to be Iida stands before him, perched at the edge of the building. He's donned in Piper's costume watching the sun rise over Musutafu, red as blood.

"Make sure not to lose him."

His foot slips off the edge, accidental in the way his face twists up in fear. Izuku does not move to help him.

Izuku springs up, panting and out of breath. It's still late, the sky a browned-pitch outside the hospital window. Reo's hand is on his shoulder. Izuku folds into himself for a moment, pressing trembling hands over his eyes and forcing himself to calm. He sucks in a deep breath, holding it for as long as he can manage before letting it out shakily. He peeks up at Reo from the corner of his eye. The older boy hovering at his bedside, concern shining in his eyes. He doesn't say anything,

doesn't need to.

Midoriya shifts, scooting over to make room for him on the bed. There's a silent sort of agreement between them as Reo steps back and grabs the pillow off his bed and settles down beside Izuku. They lay down, watching one another in the darkness; the city lights illuminate the turmoil in their eyes. Honey-gold stares into green and green into honey-gold.

It feels like they were destined to find one another, like their meeting was foretold at the creation of the universe itself and surely they've known each other for just as long. A tumbler of amber and emeralds turns over endlessly.

Izuku does not fight against the fluttering fall of his eyelids.