Izuku feigns right, dodging left around Aizawa's side. He swings his staff at the man's legs, aiming to knock him off balance only to be forced back by an elbow. "You already know how to fight," Aizawa says, countering Izuku's next attack. "But, having an extra power to rely on isn't a luxury that you have. This is why you have to learn how to use everything to your advantage."
Izuku falls back, retreating when the hero's capture weapon whips out towards him. He disappears into the maze of large shelving units. It'll be harder for Aizawa to effectively use his scarf here. They're in one of UA's custom training centers, an enclosed space modeled after the inside of a warehouse. Izuku's had more than a few fights in places like these, jam-packed with floor-to- ceiling shelves filled with a random assortment of crates and miscellaneous items. It forces you close-quarters— limits your movements when you're fighting between isles.
"I saw hints of it at the sports festival," Aizawa calls; his voice echoes down the isles, "You used the environment to benefit, used your opponents' quirks— their weaknesses— against them."
Izuku, in truth, has fought freely against hundreds of quirked individuals. Using his environment? Others' weaknesses? That was something he'd had to learn the hard way, with adrenaline flooding his system and murderous intent in the air. Izuku pretends he's grasping at the idea, acting like he doesn't quite get it, like it had been something that came to him naturally.
Izuku clicks his staff into the new holster on his back, stilling. He listens for the sound of Aizawa's footsteps; hearing them he takes his chance, climbing a good way up the industrial shelving unit. He clings to the side— waits with bated breath as Aizawa approaches the side opposite him. Then,
with one swift movement, he swings his legs back and kicks them forward, slamming his shoes into one of the shelf's crates and sending it toppling out the other side towards Aizawa.
The hero leaps back, head snapping up towards where it'd come from. His capture weapon chases Izuku's afterimage.
Izuku climbs higher up the shelves, refusing to look down even as one of his feet slips with a resounding clang. There's a swish of rustling fabric as Aizawa sends out his capture weapon again, using it to haul himself up after the boy.
There's more room towards the upper shelves, enough so that he's able to stand without crouching. He shoves everything he can off the shelf, impeding Aizawa's climb up but also giving his position away. Soon enough the hero's joining him at the top; Izuku's ready for him.
Or at least he thinks he is. Even if there's room enough to stand here it's still an enclosed space. There's no room to swing his staff, barely enough to move let alone fight now that there's two of them. Aizawa makes the first move, sending his capture weapon out to restrain him. Izuku slides past it, hand latching onto the scarf. He gives it one good wrap around his hand and pulls with all the force he can muster.
There is, unfortunately, more slack in it than he anticipates. And where he'd meant to unbalance the hero, he only unbalances himself. The step back he takes to right himself slips off the edge.
Before he can even start to topple off the shelf the capture weapon wraps around his midriff, helping him regain his balance.
"It's always smart to pull your opponent into a situation where they have the disadvantage," Aizawa informs him, "But, it's important to remember they have an equal chance of working against you as well. You're good at quickly spotting your opponents' weaknesses. But you need to consider your strengths right alongside them."
Izuku pants, a small pool of disappointment settling beneath his throat.
Aizawa must sense his drifting thoughts, pulling him back with a: "You're getting better. Even with only a few weeks, I can see the difference." He pats the boy on the shoulder, peeking over the edge of the shelf. "We'll go again."
Training with Aizawa is an arduous thing, but it's necessary for their development as future heroes. Aizawa's doing his best to cram in as many lessons as he can while remaining thorough with each topic: how to fight, how to defend, how to strategize, how to save people in ways beyond defeating the villains stationed in front of them. Despite how hard the work is they still share fragments of peace in the in-between moments.
Izuku laughs, bright and genuine as Aizawa pulls himself up towards the ceiling to help Shinsou untangle himself from his latest attempt at using his own capture weapon. Izuku had declined the hero's original offer to teach him to use it as well, preferring to stick with his staff, worried that they'd only impede each other. But, if he could learn how to use them in tandem... He dismisses the idea for now, watching Shinsou's painfully slow detanglement.
Another laugh bursts past his lips when Shinsou falls a few inches with a loud yelp of fear. He's silently mouthing curses at Izuku from above, flipping him off when he manages to free a hand before he's back to desperately clinging to the cloth again.
Aizawa murmurs a few straight-faced reassurances to him, but Izuku can see the slight twitch to the man's lips even from here.
Life is good, Izuku thinks. On his days off from training, he visits the dojo, helping Ji-Woo train the younger students or running through a few rounds of playful sparring with Hirano or Gamon. He's happy. Every Friday after training he meets with Oboro, bone weary but smiling because although it's slow he's healing. He's learning to be selfish, just a little bit. He spends what nights he can at Reo's, slipping through his window when the nightmares keep him up, crawling into bed next to each other like that last night at the hospital. Life is busy for Izuku, but it's peaceful. He's leaving the past behind him, mourning for Piper's loss like any other and then moving on. He's scattering the ashes across Musutafu. He will never forget what Piper did, what he saw, who he saved, who he didn't.
He cries. He wipes his tears. And in the end, he'll become stronger for it.
Who was Pied Piper?
#piedpiper #vigilante #conspiracy #news 3,368,847 views · 3 days ago
[Video Transcript: "What if Pied Piper was sitting next to you? Would you be able to tell? 'But, Lilac!' you say 'He's dead! Of course he wouldn't be sitting next to me!' Pied Piper was an individual just like you and me; young too, if the reports are anything to go by. The police announced a news-friendly version of the condition Piper's 'body' was found in. In truth, what they actually found was gruesome," he stresses, "But there's something strange about it. It's unidentifiable. Somewhat decayed, face unrecognizable, anything that could link back to Piper's identity was erased. And that's what they don't tell you in any of the public reports. There's a reason police weren't able to identify the remains and it's not simple incompetence, it's blatant and purposeful erasure of the body's identity. Now there are a few reasons this could be. Number one: pure coincidence, there's no telling how many sick fucks are in the world and maybe one of them just so happened to get ahold of Piper. Or Number two: Piper's civilian identity could lead back to his killers."
"Now, I'll ask again. What if Pied Piper was sitting next to you? Would you know what he looked like? Would you be able to tell?—"]
LilacMinds
509K subscribers
Everyone seems set on accepting the death of Pied Piper–– but what if there's more to the story? In this video I explore more of the circumstances behind Piper's death and why the way officials have handled his case has left the public with so many "What if" questions. Pied Piper's civilian identity is currently unknown but
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Comments 5,249
Mikey did Dou 1 day ago Great video as always!
Ur Mom38 23 hours ago AYO NEW VIDEO????
horseshits 2 days ago Piper content my beloved
LLLLulu 3 days ago
bro u gotta let piper die, im sick of hearing about him already
dippy york 2 days ago
What would you do, if Piper was right in front of you? BAJUU
13IURANGO1398 16 hours ago
personally i agree more with your second statement, i definitely think the state of his body had more to do with the killers' identities than just simple incompetence or violence for the sake of violence though i agree that there are people out there like that. i'm really glad you brought this up though, i haven't seen anyone else bring it up as a possibility for why piper's body was...
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Moris Browns 2 hours ago
Can you go back to making videos that aren't about Piper? His case is just depressing /
Naomasa reads through the documents, expression set with a slight frown. "The deadline's coming up. You said you already contacted all the heroes you had in mind, right?" He looks up, finding Nighteye still working at his desk. They're currently holed up in the hero's office; Yagi's face smiling brightly at them from several of the walls.
Naomasa pointedly avoids looking at them for too long.
Nighteye glances up at him briefly before continuing his work. "I have a list," he answers, "but I've yet to hear back from some of them. Fatgum and Ryukyu have agreed to bring their current interns along and both Eraserhead and Rocklock sent over confirmation for their participation last night. But, I'm still waiting on word from Snipe and a few others."
Naomasa sets his papers aside, leaning back. "I'll talk with Snipe, get him to agree. He's had encounters with Piper in the past, he may be sympathetic to his cause, especially with a little girl in
the mix."
The hero eyes him for another moment but says nothing against it, only nodding.
"We need more people," Naomasa murmurs, "We'll already be outnumbered. We need to at least look like we have the advantage, inflate our numbers a bit."
"I'll send out a message, see if anyone has any additional people they can bring. Is everything sorted on your end?"
Nao hums a noise of agreement. "Local police have agreed to assist in the raid and offered a group of 80 some personnel to help, half of which will be fitted in riot gear."
There's a clacking of more computer keys. "We'll have to hope they'll be enough to subdue a majority of the criminals while we handle Overhaul and the others."
"We're gonna do it," Naomasa states, glaring holes into the coffee table, hands folded together in his lap, "We'll do it."
Finals come and go but with the start of summer break their training only continues. Izuku skids across the floor and groans with a laugh. "I was so close!"
Aizawa peers down at him with an upward twitch of his lips. He offers the boy a hand up from the floor, hauling him back to his feet.
"There's no 'close' in hero work. You either do or don't," the hero reminds him, eyes turning to where Shinsou's hauling himself towards the ceiling with the help of his capture weapon. The boy was getting better at it. His muscles were filling in and it'd been a while since he'd managed to get himself tangled up.
There's a shift in Izuku's face when the hero looks away, something dark and pained that flickers in his eyes. White hair flutters in his memories, red eyes bright against a forgotten backdrop.
He'd started to forget her face, Iida's too.
"We'll take a break," Aizawa continues, looking back at him just in time to catch the tail end of Izuku's expression as he wipes it from his face. It takes a moment for the hero to even register the look and by then it's being covered with a faux smile from Izuku. "Go get a drink. We'll spar again in 5 minutes."
He nods. "Yes sir."
They continue to practice for another hour, Aizawa splitting his attention between training both him and Shinsou before they wrap it up for the day.
He's busy locking the gym back up when he gets the call.
Aizawa rubs at his brow. He can feel a headache coming on.
He leans back into the couch with a sigh, letting his eyes fall shut.
Nighteye's voice echoes in his head: "I know you're not usually one to take on sidekicks or interns, but if you have anyone in mind we're looking for more heads."
Oboro takes a seat beside him. "What is it?"
Aizawa glances over at him. "Piper—" he starts, thoughts trailing off. "Is there a new lead?" Oboro asks softly.
There's a sigh. "No. I agreed to help Nighteye's agency wrap up the last case Piper was working on before his death. We're going to be up against a big organization so they're calling for more people. Sidekicks and interns included."
"But, you don't—" he trails off, "Ah. Midoriya and Shinsou? They're not technically your interns though," Oboro says, turning to him, "No one would force you to bring them."
"They don't have hero licenses," Aizawa states, "And even if Shinsou's quirk could be useful his fighting skills are still lacking," his words are firm, unyielding. "He wouldn't be able to defend himself. And Midoriya... even though he's good at fighting, he's rash and impulsive," he reasons. It sounds weak even in his own ears. He pushes on, determined, "he kept throwing himself between Stain and everyone else and—"
Oboro watches him quietly, brows furrowed with gentle concern. "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself more than me."
"He's inexperienced," the hero tries.
Oboro bites gently at the inside of his cheek. "Is he?"
Aizawa stills beside him and Oboro tenses for a moment, scared he'd said too much. "You said it yourself," he continues slowly, carefully picking his next words, "he held his own against Stain. Someone with no experience couldn't do that."
Aizawa remains quiet. "He doesn't have a license," he repeats after a while.
Oboro hums, leaning back. "There are always ways around stuff like that, isn't there? He's a gen ed. student, right? So he didn't get an internship. You can always write it off as a learning experience."
There's a long stretch of silence. Oboro lets him think.
"If he can beat me in a fight," Aizawa murmurs like an afterthought, "I'll consider it." This shouldn't even be a thought he's entertaining. This operation would be a dangerous one against some of Japan's most wanted villains. And here he was, trying to drag an unlicensed quirkless kid into the middle of it. He shakes the thought off, no, no. Midoriya was capable, more so than some of his 1-A counterparts. That was why he was even considering this at all. That's why none of his other students had come to mind when Nighteye called. "I'll suggest it, see what he says."
"You'll suggest it?" Oboro chuckles, "You really think that boy will say no? After all the things you've told me about him?"
Aizawa huffs, amusement seeping past the turmoil that'd been bubbling up in him. He thinks back to the determination in Midoriya's eyes— thinks back to that same breed of determination he'd
seen in Piper's eyes. In another life he feels sure that Midoriya would've ended up a vigilante if Aizawa hadn't gotten to him first. In another life maybe he and Piper would've been friends, would've fought alongside each other, protected each other.
Maybe in that life Piper wouldn't be dead.
Izuku's staff blurs as he twirls it between his hands. He runs through a few movements on autopilot, thoughts wandering. Every step is well practiced, near flawless in its execution even while his mind is elsewhere.
Aizawa watches him from a distance, leaning against the gym's door frame. Izuku hasn't noticed him yet.
"You need to work on your situational awareness," Aizawa calls across the room.
Though Izuku startles at his voice, eyes zipping towards the door, he pulls casually out of his next move, staff ever steady. "Aizawa sensei," Izuku greets, twisting at the staff's midpoint and watching as the ends retreat inwards before holstering it on his back. He looks back up at him. "Shinsou had to leave early for an appointment."
Aizawa nods. "He stopped by the office on his way out." He falls quiet for a moment, staring and being stared at in return. "What do you say we spar again today?"
Usually Aizawa's quirk was the great equalizer, erasing a majority of his opponents' abilities in order to level the playing field–– though the term 'leveling' is a bit off. His quirk usually left people to flounder without their abilities, leaving them confused, uncertain, especially for those who had never learned how to fight without their quirks.
But then there was Midoriya Izuku. Quirkless. And perhaps it was his quirklessness that was the great equalizer of their fights. He had nothing for Aizawa to erase; he had nothing to be shocked by the loss of and thus any advantage the hero may have had was all but crushed under heel.
They stand in the middle of a department store, another of UA's many battle sets. They each take three steps back and the fight begins. Aizawa sends out his capture weapon, driving Izuku behind a clothing rack to avoid it. There's a clatter of hangers falling to the floor as Izuku rounds the other side, charging back at Aizawa empty-handed. He spins, slipping around another strand of the hero's weapon, and reaches for the staff at his back. With a sharp twist, it expands out to three times its size in two-tenths of a second, catching Aizawa in the stomach.
He stumbles back a step, breath knocked out of him before he tightly latches onto the staff and wraps his capture weapon around Izuku's feet.
They smile at each other: Aizawa's nothing more than a cat-like smirk and Izuku's a sharp and blinding grin.
The fight is very much a back and forth one, and there's something wild in Izuku's eyes, like this is the kind of fight he's been waiting for all along; like somehow all the times before this have only been games. Perhaps it's because Aizawa isn't holding back anymore. If he goes easy on him now he'll forever rethink the decision he'd come to with Oboro. It's like Izuku can feel the difference in this fight compared to all the ones before it.
The dangerous glint of his staff is reflected in his eyes. In the end, the winner of the fight is a clear one.
Izuku pants, staff trained at the hero's throat. He's escaped Eraserhead several times as a vigilante. This will be the first time he's beaten him.
He steps back, giving the hero space to sit up. Izuku takes a moment to recompose himself, shaking off the battle lust to offer Aizawa a hand up.
He takes it, allowing Izuku to pull him to his feet. The wildness in Izuku's eyes has been replaced by something brighter, shining with the light of a thousand stars at his victory.
He worries for a moment that Aizawa will be angry with him. He hasn't spoken yet, silently accepting Izuku's help up. Surely it must be a blow to the hero's pride. But then there's a barely there smile on the man's lips.
"Midoriya," Aizawa starts, "You didn't get the chance to participate in any of the hero course's internships." It's not a question, merely an observation.
Izuku nods in confirmation, something uneasy yet curious settles in his stomach.
"Would you like to?" the hero asks, voice softer than usual.
Izuku stalls for a moment, caught by surprise. There's a beat of silence where neither of them say anything and then suddenly the realization of what Aizawa was offering is sinking in. There's no ounce of hesitation in his answer. "Yes!"
"Usually this isn't something I consider so early on, but you've shown your capabilities. I don't have to worry about you not being able to protect yourself and this will help you from falling too far behind."
Izuku doesn't understand that the man's words are more of a reassurance to Aizawa on his decision than an explanation.
"In all honesty," Aizawa continues, "you received several internship offers after your performance in the sports festival, but because you're not enrolled in the hero course the school was forced to decline them. Even now, because of your circumstances, you won't be able to intern with anyone outside of the school's faculty. Which," he says, "means you'll be interning with me."
There's a sour drop of disappointed anger that washes through him when he hears about his previous offers. Someone wanted me, someone wanted to train me. But, he forces it down, swallows it without complaint because lingering will do him no good. Even so, he wants to take these words and put them in print, wants to slide the paper across the table to the principal himself, wants to wave it in front of his face as proof that the half-pity he'd offered that first day after coldly rejecting Izuku's application wasn't needed–– wasn't wanted. He's sure that Nezu was a good man, but that hadn't changed what he'd done in what he believed was Izuku's best interest.
Izuku was tired.
Tired of people deciding what his best interest was supposed to be; tired of pity and their disgust and their ignorance. Everywhere he went he was infantilized or looked down upon, seen as less than— like a second-rate human— like someone who wasn't special enough, who needed to be something more all for the sake of others' comfort. He was the same as everyone else until they realized— after that it was like a switch was flipped.
Midoriya Izuku never acted any different. It was only ever the people around him who did so.
But, things were different now, he had people in his life who loved him, who believed in him–– people who saw him without pity. He had people who wanted to stay beside him even after seeing it all. He had a teacher, a hero , who wanted to train him, who saw his potential.
"You're strong, Midoriya," Aizawa presses, "Strong enough to beat me in a fight. You're ready; you've been ready. The world just wasn't ready to see it–– I wasn't ready to see it. But, you held out and you proved your strength despite everyones' averted eyes. You've believed in yourself, by yourself, for long enough."
It wasn't much, maybe most of what the man was saying was really just your basic human decency, but it was more than Izuku had ever received before.
There's something soft and sad and hopeful in the boy's rising smile. Then a thought occurs to Izuku. "What about Shinsou?"
Aizawa's lips twitch downwards, not with disappointment, but with confliction. "Shinsou isn't where you are yet. In 1-A, many of those kids are able to rely on their quirks in most scenarios but, on the occasions they can't, they have their combat skills to fall back on. Shinsou doesn't have that yet. He's gotten much better at fighting, but he's still learning how to use his capture weapon."
Izuku nods, understanding. The only reason Izuku was being given this opportunity, after all, was because of his time as Piper. He's saved civilians, fought villains–– even if Aizawa wasn't aware of this, his training and experience was still evident even when it's written off as something other. This wasn't something Aizawa usually offered, Izuku can tell. He was the exception.
This left a warm bubbling feeling in his chest. Izuku had always been the exception: the exception to a father's unconditional love, and the exception to Aldera's no bullying policy, and the exception to UA's hero course admittance system. Midoriya Izuku seemed to have always been the exception to the rule of 'everyone deserves a chance'. This time, however, was the first time he could say he was an exception and smile in response.
Izuku can feel tears building up, the happy and joyful kind. He holds them back, doesn't let them fall. Izuku scrubs at his eyes and for a moment Aizawa can almost pretend that there's a red one hidden beneath the closed lids.