The ride to Morioka was boring as fuck.

Izuku spent most of it just staring in the mirror. Thank God he bought the mirror seat. If he was forced to sit this whole trip in the middle, he would have killed somebody. One such trip was enough experience for his entire life.

He stared at the case in his arms. His costume. Or what passed for his costume. Aizawa forbade them from opening the case, and Izuku didn't trust his bullshit tech know-how to put it back together. How the fuck his mask fit into this was beyond his comprehension. He drummed his fingers on it for a bit, listening for the sound it made – a hollow one, like he was drumming on an empty space. He put the case further away from him. Fucking tech bullshit. First guns, now this.

Thankfully, he didn't need to stay in the company of potentially dangerous thing for long. They were almost there, they announce the stop five or so minutes ago. And then Izuku would need to figure out how to get to Ryukyu's office. He already hated this bullshit internship. And he would also need to make the return trip…

The station was here – seconds away from freedom. The train decelerated, and in a matter of moments, stopped. Izuku suddenly remembered why he also hated the mirror seats – the useless fucks beside him would of course sandbag their chance to exit the train faster. He had half a mind to just fucking push through all of it, but stayed his hand. Deep breaths. Deep fucking breaths.

Izuku got up, picked up his case, and pushed through the randos beside him. They started yammering about manners or some shit, but Izuku didn't even spare them a glance. Who the fuck cares what you think, if you can only talk? People were still getting their belongings, and the train wasn't even full, so he easily muscled through the crowd to the exit.

Stepping out into the wind was great. Even if the train air con worked, thank God, nothing compared to the great outdoors. Izuku glanced around for a bit – Morioka was not a big city, so the station was not big too. A few people were standing on the platform, waiting for their family or friends, probably.

"Midoriya Izuku?", a woman asked, walking up to him. She had blond hair, bangs falling over her… okay Izuku, don't fuck up the directions, right eye. Yeah, right eye. She was dressed pretty casually – jeans, high boots, a jacket over a T-shirt. A black beanie over her hair. Izuku tried to put her face to anybody he knew and came up short. She was probably from Ryukyu's agency, meeting him. Just don't swear, Izuku.

"Who the fuck are you?", Izuku fucked up the moment he opened his mouth. Well, not like he would interact with this girl often. She didn't look like a sidekick.

"Of to a good start, it seems. Ryuko Tatsuma. You probably know me as Ryukyu, though.", Ryuko said, crossing her arms over her chest. Okay, she wasn't a sidekick after all. She was a Pro. Ryukyu sighed, and motioned him to follow after her. "Wanted to greet your in person. Get a hang of what I would be working with."

Even Izuku understood the sarcasm in her words. He wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut. No need in antagonizing her further. Just treat her like… fuck, like whom? Just another teacher? No, like All Might. She would teach him interesting shit. At least Izuku hoped.

"I won't kill you for saying fuck. No need to take the vow of silence.", Ryuko said, smiling at him. Okay, scratch that, she was pretty cool.

"Why the fuck Morioka, of all places?", Izuku suddenly asked. It always puzzled him – why did such a strong hero choose this city.

"What?", Ryuko said, confused.

"Why are you… heroing in Morioka? And not, like, in Tokyo, or something. Where everyone else is.", Izuku clarified.

Ryuko snorted. "Well, I am 'heroing' in Morioka precisely because everyone else is heroing in the Belt. Somebody should fight crime here, even if it doesn't bring as much money as it does down south.", Ryuko explained.

Okay, that checked out. If everyone was concentrated in these big population centers, than the fringes would get fucked. Somebody should fight villains, even here. Maybe Izuku would do this, when he graduates? It sounds interesting. No bullshit media, just roll around the country, fucking up people left and right.

"How fucked is it?", Izuku asked. Ryukyu side-eyed him, but didn't answer anything for a long time. Izuku wanted to rephrase the question, but then Ryuko finally answered.

"Very. When I say 'everyone else is heroing in Belt', I mean it. Hero-to-civilian population here is almost a magnitude worse than there. And people here are not cream of the crop either. Everything north of Tokyo is a no go for most of the graduates of good hero schools. It's just not as profitable to them. I am barely making ends meet, and I am high up in the rankings. I don't even want to know how bad it is for the lower rungs.", Ryuko answered.

Yeah, Lung is definitely making a tour of Tohoku after graduation. Fuck everyone here up, get some spotlight for the region. People would flock here to trace the footsteps of Lung. Making the world better by beating somebody to a pulp, buy one get two deal for Izuku.

They got into a car, with Ryuko driving herself. Is it really that bad that she doesn't even use a dedicated driver? Is she driving herself to the crime scene? That says a lot about Tohoku, better than her speech minutes ago. The city looked fucked. Decrepit buildings, cracked pavement, even the lead-coloured clouds added to the atmosphere. Then the panel housing, with more gray concrete to add to the misery. He now understood why Ryuko used a lot of bright colors in her costume – probably wanted to see something else rather than gray after gray after gray.

They were driving through one of those ghost neighborhoods. The building were all overrun with greenery – it even looked better than the outskirts behind them. Then, Conflict sense piped up – people hyped up, somewhere to the front and left of them. Not on this street, but close? Close-ish. And then Izuku heard the sound that he hates probably more than anything. Motherfucking gunshots.

Ryuko probably heard them too, because she slammed the breaks, hard. She glanced at him, and Izuku nodded – this is not his first foray into fighting bitches with guns. He'll manage. Just don't fucking leave him here, it would be more stupid. He is, funnily enough, safer right in a combat zone, than on the edge of it. His quirk will pull him through.

Ryuko gripped the steering wheel, and looked at him once more. "Okay, nobody ever said that I am a responsible hero, you know. If you tanked those hits from, what's his name, Kamakiri, thank you can probably tank bullets. With me", Ryukyu said, and stepped out of the car.

Izuku looked at the case in his arms. "Fuck it.", he whispered to himself, and smashed the button to open it. His pants and flip flops dropped into his lap, but the most important part was the mask. The last time he put it one, they were going to USJ. He didn't use it as much in the Hero Lessons – it seemed a travesty. Like it was only for real battles, not mock-ups. He put it on, the tech bullshit straps, fastening on the back of his head on their own.

"Fuck, that's a cool mask. But if you didn't get the memo, we have a fucking emergency here, Lung. No time for fucking around. Move!", Ryuko yelled, and rushed in the direction of the shootout. And it was a shootout. Gunshots filled his ears the moment the first one sounded. It was not just a robbery, or something.

Izuku flipped the switch on his quirk, and immediately started ramping up, the violence on the next street filling him with power. He ditched his upper body clothes, leaving him only in his jeans. Those would be too cumbersome to dislodge out of, so they would sadly burn. The mask fucked his vision, but it got better every second – his quirk working overtime, to boost him. His claws were already extending, and vertebrae after vertebrae popped up in him, making him taller. He already could conjure flames up.

Ryukyu was not far behind him. He always envied that her clothes stayed on her during the transformation – but he thought that those were special, quirk conducting ones. But no, somehow it works even on this casual shit. Even if they looked wacky on her dragon form. Or it was just too unusual for him, compared to the sanitized photos of her in the news.

The shootout was between two gangs – one in white and red, another in mostly blue. Izuku didn't give enough fucks to notice more minute details. The only thing right now Lung had on Ryukyu was his fire – she just wasn't the right type of dragon to use it. He decided to open with a fuck-you wall of fire – to mask his position, and to be able to close enough distance to negate the gun advantage. He didn't want to spend this internship nursing another gunshot, thank you.

People screamed. Some dropped their weapons, the smart ones dropped to the ground trying to put out the fires. The stupid ones ran out into the open, right into Lung's and Ryukyu's welcoming claws. And fire from the other side of the shootout, that too.

Lung slammed a solid punch right into the incoming goon, bending him over. He followed up with a left hook to his head, knocking him on the ground, and probably knocking him out of the fight. More people came at him, and now Lung didn't need to hold back his fire, like he was forced to during the training – a rain of fire surged at them, leaving them wallowing in pain on the ground. More and more red-white goons fell under his assault, cradling burns and broken bones.

It was glorious. Adrenaline was pumping through his body, his quirk roared, demanding more and more blood, more pain, more anger, more more more. And Lung wanted to give in to this feeling so fucking much, it was driving him insane. But he couldn't. God, he wanted to, but he could not. He settled for smashing every gun and every goons hand that held them into pieces. Crack after crack. Flesh once again prevailing over metal. And this time, no fucking torn shoulders.

He turned to the other side of the improvised battlefield, where Ryukyu was moping up the blue goons. It was not the first time Izuku saw a Pro fucking up villains in real life, but in USJ he was too focused on surviving to appreciate Aizawa destroying the fuckers that came with Hand Guy. Ryukyu was good. Strong, fast, agile. Durable, able to tank bullets. Shoulder slam a guy, sweep another with her tail. The only problem was her lack of ranged attacks. She needed to constantly close distance with everyone she fought. Where Lung could produce fire to mop up the dregs, Ryukyu was forced to waste time getting to them.

"You good, Lung?", Ryukyu asked, when was finally finished. Izuku nodded, and walked up to her. Ryukyu turned back to her normal form, with no signs of fighting on her clothing. She extended her fist – and Lung delivered, slamming his into a fist-bump. "Hell yeah. You are good, Lung."

"Who the fuck were those guys?", Izuku asked. Ryuko walked up to one of the goons laying around them, and turned him over with her foot. She stood for a bit, looking at him, but shook her head.

"No fucking clue. Another group of randos. Small fries constantly pop up here, or in the countryside.", Ryuko replied.

"Small fries with guns?", Lung asked, disbelieving. Ryuko snorted in reply.

"Welcome to Tohoku, Lung."

"Hello… Collapse.", Endeavor sighed, holding out a hand. Reiko decided that while starting their relationship with slapping his hand away would be funny, it would be somewhat counterproductive. She took it instead – his grip was firm, but not overbearing.

"Don't like the name?", Reiko asked, smiling. Endeavor didn't reply, just motioned for her to follow. She complied, even if keeping up with his strides was tedious as fuck.

"Ruin Hero : Collapse. As you deftly put it in your opening speech in the Festival, very heroic.", Endeavor replied.

"I said it a bit differently, but sure.", Reiko piped up. Endeavor only huffed. "So, what are we going to do?"

"What are you going to do. Preempting your question – a spar, against one of my sidekicks.", Endeavor said. Why the fuck would she need a spar? She came in third place in the Festival. And would've probably trashed Firecracker, if his son didn't fuck up her so much.

"Burnin', get here.", Endeavor called at a person, lounging around in the lobby of the agency. The girl? Woman? Got up from her spot on the sofa, and sauntered up to them.

"Sup, Boss. Who's the girl?", Burnin' drawled. Reiko would bet her… something that Endeavor frowned under that flaming exterior.

"How many times I need to repeat that it is not 'Sup', but 'Hello', and not 'Boss', but Endeavor. Todoroki, as a last resort. I am not a gang leader to be called Boss.", Endeavor expressed his utmost displeasure. "And it's our new intern. Collapse. Collapse, this is Burnin'. And as she needs some lessons in being a responsible hero, she is now your new minder."

Burnin' clearly didn't want to be saddled with a high schooler, but probably understood that arguing with Endeavor would not end in her favor.

"Cool name, Collapse. What's next? Butcher?", Burnin' snarked.

"My friend actually debated taking Butcher as a name. Clearing it, all that jazz.", Reiko replied. Burnin' snorted.

"I hope he did not. It's a really big PHS-please-kill-me target. It's the mantis dude, yeah? Then it's double the danger.", Burnin' said.

"Fearing taking a name because a villain group might exclusively target you based on that does not speak volumes for our nation.", Endeavor mused.

"PHS killed somebody for taking Butcher's name?", Reiko asked. She didn't hear anything about that in the news, but maybe it was made hush-hush. It really doesn't paint a good picture of heroes.

"It wasn't Butcher's name. It was Swansong's. She probably took it personally. The rest is… well, Swansong made them regret it expressionism-style.", Burnin' answered. What?

"Expressionism-style?", Reiko questioned. Endeavor totally frowned at her not understanding, Reiko is fucking certain.

"Swansong's quirk? You know, warping blasts of fuck-you?", Burnin' replied. Endeavor now definitely frowned at Burnin', for daring to swear in front of a minor. Firecracker said something about her? She is the leader of PHS? Wait, no.

"She is the… regent of PHS? Until Butcher will return to power?", Reiko said. Endeavor looked at her, eyes open. Impressed that she knew this?

They finally arrived at the training area. Endeavor opened the door, and a pretty simple arena appeared before Reiko's eyes. Nothing fancy – but you could probably smell the quality of it.

"Collapse against Burnin'. Until I stop you.", Endeavor commanded. Reiko dutifully followed Burnin' to the arena. This time Reiko didn't need to commit crimes against style and go barefoot – her boots conducted her quirk, like they were part of her body. She grabbed more and more of the ground under her control with every step. She hoped that Endeavor would not require her to pay for the damages to his floor. Or this entire arena, probably.

"Start!", Endeavor shouted. Reiko immediately cracked the ground, bringing the concrete to herself, securing the ability to fly. Reiko had no fucking idea what Burnin' could do, but judging by her hair – probably not shooting sunshine and rainbows out of her mouth.

A barrage of green fireballs surged at Reiko's position. Collapse simply dodged, swerving out of their way. She sent her own probing attack at Burnin' – who responded the same way, dodging by flying into the air. She can fly? Fuck. Reiko didn't really fight any flying opponents before this. Except Firecracker, but he was more about jumping, rather than flying. Even if he got better with time.

They traded more attacks – and Reiko realized that while Burnin' could do this forever, she would sooner or later run out of concrete to pull out of the ground. And she never used anything like earth before – could she do some kind of sandstorm attack. Reiko didn't want to experiment.

Collapse rushed at Burnin', intending to get into melee. Burnin' responded by forming a sword out of her hair, glowing with green fire. Reiko backpedaled a bit, so not wanting to get skewered and made into a kebab. Burnin' still continued sending fire at her, forcing Reiko to respond with her own projectiles, dwindling her supply further.

Okay, new plan. Reiko dropped to the ground, and hunkered down, intending to rip out as much of the ground as she could manage. Burnin' fire was not strong, and she formed it quite slow, so Collapse could probably overwhelm her defense with enough missiles. She reformed her 'flying' rocks into a crude barricade, which shielded her against most of the fire. All the while Reiko took over more and more of concrete. Fuck, she really fucking hoped that Endeavor wouldn't price her for all this collateral.

Burnin' realized that now she is in a losing position, and that she needed to do something to get out of it. She tried varying up her attacks, intending to circumvent Reiko's wall – if she scored a hit, Endeavor would probably end this bout. The ground under Reiko started cracking, Collapse almost at her limit of mass she could control.

Burnin' recognized that she couldn't continue with her plan of just staying out of range and hoping that Collapse runs out of easily acquirable ammo. So she rushed at Reiko, another sword brandished at her side, whose every swing easily derailed single rocks Reiko threw at Burnin'.

Big fucking sword is scary, but a veritable meteor storm is better. Reiko heaved with everything she had, intending to bury Burnin' under concrete, when Endeavor finally stopped the fight. By creating a giant wall of fire between them.

"That's enough. Burnin' – good enough. Fighting such extreme cases of mass telekinesis is never easy. Especially in such tight places, where you can't easily outmaneuver them.", Endeavor said, walking up to them with two water bottles in hand. He threw one at Reiko, and she caught it with her quirk, levitating it right into her outstretched palm.

"Collapse… decent. You can't use your quirk on organics, I presume? Even so, you could've easily done something to Burnin' costume, to throw her off-balance. After that it would've been an easy victory. But you decided to trash my training arena instead.", Endeavor said, sighing.

Burnin' grinned at her behind his shoulder, showing a thumbs up. "No hard feelings, Collapse.", she mouthed with her lips. Reiko responded with her own grin. Endeavor sighed once again, and shook his head, muttering something about Half-and-Half.

"All in all…", Endeavor started, but trailed off.

"Welcome to Endeavor Agency!", Burnin' yelled.

Was this practiced, or something?

Kamakiri was having a good time. An almost empty train car, good air con. And earbuds in his ears, blasting some mind-numbing pop. The ride to Shimonoseki was great. Togaru didn't really go further than Tokyo throughout his life – even if his family could probably afford a small vacation to Kyoto, or something like that. They just never thought about wasting money for such things. But looking out of the window, he maybe understood the appeal of traveling.

They were nearing Yamaguchi. The last stop before Shimonoseki, where Gang Orca had his agency. Togaru was happy to receive an invitation from a hero like him – even if he got third place in the Festival, he still didn't believe his quirk to be suited for hero work. Even if he had two more examples in his friend circle of powers seriously not meshing well with the whole saving people thing. Kamakiri was still not certain that Izuku even understood that part of being a hero.

The train slowed down, and finally stopped at the station. People piled out of adjacent cars, but his one was empty the entire ride. Which was very strange – this is a fucking bullet train, how the fuck did he land an entirely empty car.

He closed his eyes, and tried to take a small nap – getting a bit more energy before his first meeting with Gang Orca. A song or two passed, before he was woken up by a push on his shoulder – maybe a person wanted to get to the seat past him? He opened his eyes to a… man? No, a teen guy, saying something to him – Togaru's earbuds drowning out his voice. Kamakiri took them off.

"… mutt. You are fucking trespassing. Get the fuck out of the car, this is our turf.", the motherfucker said. Kamakiri decided to take in his appearance – he looked scrawny, and his eyeglasses fucked up the tough-guy look he tried to go for with the leather jacket and black cargo pants. The fuck he said? Mutt? Our car? Is he for real?

"Is this some kind of prank? It's not fucking funny.", Kamakiri said, trying to keep his calm.

The fucker took out a switchblade out of his jacket pocket in response.

Kamakiri's instincts surged – he activated his quirk, and slammed guy's wrist on the seat in front of him several times, forcing his knife out of his palm. Only now Togaru noticed more people in the same clothes like this bitch boy strolling into the car. Fuck, those motherfuckers are really PHS, or something. How the fuck can they just take over a fucking train car?

"Fuck! You are dead, bitch!", knife dude swore, bringing Togaru back into reality. Fuck! He can't use his quirk's full form in the train! And he is not fucking Izuku – he can't just shrug off knife wounds. How the fuck did they get knives on the fucking train!

Kamakiri didn't think long on what to do next – a rail spike shot out of his right palm right into his left. He smashed it across the bitchboy's face, knocking teeth out of his mouth, and dropping him on the ground. He stood up, and kicked him while he is down for good measure.

He so fucking hoped that they don't have guns. So fucking hoped, or he is a dead man. Fucker's buddies were already in motion, rushing at him, brandishing their knives. Some went to flank him, but the seats worked to his advantage – enemies were either funneled into a tight corridor between the rows, or were forced to jump over seats, slowing themselves down.

Kamakiri forced chains out of his body, wrapping them around his chest and stomach area – hopefully protecting the most vital organs. The train started up – nobody told the driver about the fight in this car. Kamakiri stumbled a bit, the force of the train moving him in the opposite direction.

He couldn't just stand here – it was a death sentence, if they manage to surround him from the two sides of the corridor. Okay, he was probably overreacting – he would simply use his quirk's full form. But he would prefer not to damage who-the-fuck-knows-how-many-yen train car.

Kamakiri glanced behind him – the train's configuration had no open space, which was probably in his favor – he was the one outnumbered. He debated staying in place, but decided that rushing to the end of the carriage would be better – he couldn't be flanked there.

He slammed his boot into the guy on the ground once again, as a parting gift, and ran to the end of the car. Goons followed him, judging by the sound of their boots hitting the ground. Taking the fight to more populated carriages would probably end in more injuries – the fuckers would maybe take someone hostage, or something.

Kamakiri turned, and readied himself to receive the first assailant. He had the reach advantage – his rail spike was around the length of his forearm, including the hand. Which was much better than the blades goons had on them.

"You will pay for that, fucker!", the retard shouted, rushing at him like a wild animal. His swing was uncoordinated, and Togaru easily side-stepped it, slamming his improvised club into fucker's back knee, forcing him on the ground. He proceeded to kick him right into the back of his head a couple of times, hopefully taking him out of the fight.

Kamakiri readjusted his grip on the rail spike, and turned back to his opponents. They backed up, clearly understanding that he is not just a defenseless civilian. Togaru burst out more chains, forming an improvised chain mail over his whole body. And then he charged at the racist fuckers.

Rush the first one, banking on his armor to protect him. The knife pierced through the rings of the mail, but only enough to graze him, which only fueled Togaru's rage. He smashed the fucker's knee with his boot, bringing him down, and slam his head a couple of times on the armrest. Thank God for the tight space – the guy behind could only watch as his comrade got a severe concussion.

Chains fluttered out of Togaru, tying the goon up, and depositing him in the aisle to the left of Kamakiri. They couldn't really flee now – the people behind them would constantly push them forward, so Nazis only way was forward. Right into Kamakiri's baton. One swing, and another goon is on the ground, cradling his broken arm. Kamakiri stomped on it, for good measure, and got him out of the way.

More and more racist came at him, and more and more were wallowing on the ground. There just wasn't anything that they could do to him, without more potent weapons than knifes. He slammed another fucker on the ground, bashing his head into the floor. One more left. The train began to slow down. Fuck, how is he going to explain this shit.

The idiot tried to run, which might have been a good idea in any other circumstance. Running in an enclosed space, with nowhere to really lose him? It's just turning his back to Togaru, who promptly used this opportunity to catch the bitch with his chains. He started mumbling something, but Kamakiri didn't listen – he mounted the fucker, and delivered a couple of punches to the back of his head.

Kamakiri still didn't understand how the fuck did they get into this car with knifes, but it was probably connected to it being so empty.

The doors of the train opened to Gang Orca, which was so fucking unlucky, because Kamakiri was standing dressed for war, with bloodstained clothes and a bloodied club.

"Togaru! Welcome to Shimonoseki!", he said, in his deep voice. He sounded cheerful, until he took a good look at Kamakiri.

"Oh."