gets back up again, flexing his hands with an intent to maim, mutilate, kill, kill, KILL—(John watches as the villain turns his subordinate into ash—)
"I hope you're ready to die."
John says nothing.
("What happens when you die?"
"Nothing. There is nothing at all, malysh.")
His eyes lock dead onto the hand-covered man before him. He reaches for his second weapon, heavy as the sins he carries with him, and needs nothing else.
Hitoshi and Asui are behind him, afraid for their lives despite the calmness they want to display so desperately. Aizawa lies farther away in a crater of the Nomu's making, bleeding, broken, and unconscious. The monstrous beast lays dead to the universe at large with pieces of John's staff embedded in its exposed brain and eye. Katsuki and Kirishima have the warp villain trapped, effectively keeping themselves busy. Around him, far from where he was, battles occur, where goodhearted children fight angry, remorseless adults for survival.
Here, a decision is made, permanent as the blood on his marker.
(Protect them. Save them. Don't let death take them too, Jardani-John-Baba Yaga-Izuku)
Like a starving predator with nothing left to lose, Shigaraki pounces with his claws out, anger and adrenaline fueling him 'til the end.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you!"
And John Wick raises his gun.
~
"Jonathan, listen to me."
"A man can stay here a long time and never eat the same meal twice."
"Jonathan, just walk away."
"Yeah, Jonathan. Walk aw—"
~
"What did you do?"
"Finished it."
~
"Fear not, for I am here!"
Chapter End Notes
apologies if this chap was all over the place ;; and sorry if nomu's death wasn't that exciting or makes no sense whatsoever (as with most things when it comes to John Wick lol), I wanted that mf gone quick and john was literally right there ToT let's just apply Anime Physics and Logic and call it a day!
my goal for this year will be to complete this beast of a fic that I started on a whim bc John Wick is Cool
(also the DC fandom is slowly growing on me like mushrooms w every batfam, billy batson, and danny phantom crossover fic I find, and it all started bc of mfkin young justice clips of superboy and superman being Best Bros. anyways, jason todd and cassandra cain have my heart and soul, no take-backsies)
next up: the aftermath!!!!!!
fortune favors the bold
Chapter Summary
The Aftermath from the perspective of a bunch of people in John's current life.
Chapter Notes
CW: mild description of gunshot wounds and probably inaccurate police/law procedures so take whatever legal mumbo jumbo that shows up here with a grain of salt and go along w it
previously: John Wick traumatizes a bunch of people by existing, murders a technically-already-dead person-animal-hybrid-thing, and brings a gun to a fisticuffs party.
this is my favorite chapter to write honestly bc it's like a Character Study thru the different lenses of characters connected w john :3c (and also bc I just love writing reactions to terrifying badass good guys being terrifying badass good guys) this is also me experimenting with the layout and stuff so I hope it's ok!
this is also, unsurprisingly, unedited bc i finished this baby in one go while fighting sleep @ 4am so if there are any mistakes/stuff that doesn't make grammatical sense, pls lmk!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Katsuki tries not to scowl so much at the EMT checking him for injuries, which is stupid because he never lets himself get smacked around by scumbag villains. He knows it's just standard procedure and all that shit, but fuck, can't they hurry it up?
Not that he's being an ungrateful asshole about it, but Katsuki doesn't want to waste time sitting around in an ambulance when he could be on his feet searching for his best friend and that stupid eggplant insomniac. And Shitty Hair too, probably. The guy looked ready to hurl after the whole fiasco with the USJ attack. Or maybe that was after he saw Deku beat the shit out of that handjob villain.
Yeah, that's probably it.
But that's also pretty fucking stupid because Deku just saved their asses back there. Not that the police and the other Pro Heroes called to the scene see it that way, given the very few pointedly narrow stares aimed at his friend.
Ugh. It's always the fucking rules with them instead of what's most important, like kids trying to make sure they don't end up on an obituary. Because that's virtually what happened in the USJ; Katsuki and his classmates fought to stay alive since the adults were out of reach, and the teachers with them were out of the ring.
And it's only their first year. Though, Katsuki isn't that much of a dumbass to believe that minor detail would spare them any trouble in the future.
Being a hero is a harsh business, with disasters and difficult situations attached; he knew that well enough from All Might. What happened today was another reason for Katsuki to improve the hell out of himself and his Quirk. He got lucky when he got the drop on that Warp Quirk villain. Even luckier when the misty fucker ignored Katsuki to escape with his tail between his legs. He might not be the next time they cross paths, but he'll make sure of it.
If he's going to be the next Number One Hero, the one to surpass All Might, then experience is pretty fucking vital, no matter where or when it comes from.
Deku is the walking proof of that. Speaking of which...
Katsuki finally spots him beyond the crowd of EMTs, policemen, Pro Heroes, and classmates. Talking with that detective guy in the trenchcoat, he's unflappable and poker-faced as usual. Katsuki doesn't find the (actual, life-ending) gun in Deku's hand. It's probably confiscated or something for evidence. Against what or who, Katsuki's not gonna bother thinking about it.
For their sakes, those cops better not accuse Deku of anything else other than self-defense of others and himself because Katsuki will have a shit ton of things to say about that. (And okay, sure, fine; he's still pretty damn bitter about the Sludge Villain Incident, what of it?)
But he refrains from stomping towards his otherwise calm friend, having the sense not to interrupt anything. Yet.
Katsuki will not be held responsible for what will happen next should the "questioning" ever come down to downright accusations and shit, with that bullshit prejudice on top of that.
If Deku can stop Katsuki from being a piece of shit to others, then Katsuki can stop others from being bigger pieces of shit to Deku because his dumbass of a best friend just wouldn't do it for himself even if it's to save his trouble magnet ass.
"Bakugou."
Eyebags McGee looks deader on his feet than usual, which says a lot about today's bullshit. He's got a shock blanket over his shoulders, and his skin is paler than a vampire's. His hair also looks damp, as if he'd been running under a shower for a while. But at least he's not bleeding out of an orifice or something. He just looks fucking tired.
"Hn." Katsuki wordlessly scooches over, and Eyebags lets himself drop beside him in the ambulance.
It's quiet between them, barring the background noise of police, heroes, teachers, and students around them. It's hardly ever quiet when it's Katsuki and Eyebags, though. Usually, they snark, banter, argue, and rile each other up merely to be petty assholes, with Deku serving as the Tired and Annoyed mediator. That was their thing. But Katsuki knows there wasn't any real nastiness behind it. He's just a grumpy asshole, and Eggplant Hair is a cheeky bitch who enjoys messing with him.
That's all fine and good. Except if they did do the same shitty song and dance right here, right now, it'd probably piss Katsuki the fuck off and put Eyebags in an even worse mood, and they wouldn't be bantering; no, they'd dive straight into an Argument with a capital-fucking-A, a screaming match to trump all. Trauma response, or whatever the fuck.
They don't need that.
"So," Eyebags starts because he can't go a day without filling the space with some kind of sound. "Is Mido finished yet?"
No, he isn't. Deku's still talking with the detective, and- okay, well shit, fucking Snipe is there now, apparently. Whatever they're discussing probably has something to do with what happened moments ago. With the villains. With that hand bastard, Shigaraki.
Katsuki, for a brief moment, wonders what Deku must've been thinking the whole time. What went through his head as he raised that gun? How he even got a real gun to the USJ is beyond Katsuki, but he thinks some lowlife crook dropped it, and Deku picked it up and decided it to be his last resort.
Upon seeing his best friend point the thing at Shigaraki without hesitation, Katsuki hadn't been worried per se. Sure, he was shocked that he even had a real gun in the first place. But Katsuki had a firm belief in Deku.
For all that he's ruthlessly efficient in dealing with bastards picking a fight with innocents, Deku never went further. He didn't take a step over that line in the dirt. There were countless chances for him to do the opposite.
The memory of the Sludge Villain Incident stayed with Katsuki like the aftermath of a nasty infection on his skin; Deku used a fucking pencil, and yet he didn't use the sharp end to stab the slimy fucker in the eye. He could've blinded him, potentially hurt the villain beyond measure, or used a fucking cutter to finish the job.
But he didn't because Deku was just a guy with a big, bleeding heart who knew his limits, who never went back on his morals, who took the highest ground possible despite all the shit he went through.
(All the shit Katsuki gave him over his Quirklessness. How Deku tolerated him, let alone allowed him to be his friend until now, is a mystery. But Katsuki's not about to complain.)
So it stands to reason that Deku didn't do what he did out of sheer hatred in his heart or whatever the hell the other heroes are probably guessing.
He was trying to protect himself and everyone in the class. That's it. The detective has to see that and not for what it looked like in the stupid eyes of the law. Hell, Katsuki would volunteer as a witness or some shit and prove Deku's innocence if that's what it took.
He juts his chin to where their friend is, and Eyebags follows, only to grumble like an exhausted and cranky old man. His slouch makes it even more convincing too. "They better not be pinning all of the blame on him."
Katsuki grunts in agreement. He knows how adults—especially Pro Heroes—like to believe they're right all the goddamn time. That teenagers are still babies who can't think for themselves. Those types have a special place on Katsuki's shit list. And there's an even special-er place on it for dickheads willing to punish someone for protecting themselves against batshit villains with a hand fetish.
"Do you think he'll get out of this without a problem?"
"The damn police department's practically got a running betting pool on what kind of wacky shit Deku's gonna use to beat up crooks next," Katsuki decides to settle on after a minute to ponder.
While he's not about to jump on the Bright Side wagon like an idiot, he knows Deku's made a name for himself with the MPD and some type of rapport with the detective from all those visits to the precinct. That should count for something, at least. "I think he'll get off as scot-free as he could fucking get."
And Katsuki's confident about that, no fucking questions asked. Deku's never been the murderous type between all three of them, after all.
~
Bang!
The sound pierced the air. It's in his ears now, leaving white noise behind.
It should've sounded familiar to him by now. It should've felt familiar. It had been a constant in his job, a consequence of his choices.
Instead, it sounded and felt like the beginning of his demise. He saw a red spill in the air, an explosion not unlike fireworks. It came from a body, he knew. He didn't feel anything.
He just moved.
~
Today sucked.
It still does; don't get Hitoshi wrong, he'd like to stay at home for at least a month or two before getting back out there and getting that heroic education or whatever, but—
Well. At least he and his class are still alive and breathing. It's a miracle they managed at all.
(calloused hands, the stench of death, dad on the floor bleeding broken—)
Hitoshi breathes sharply through his nose, intent on forgetting the more traumatizing parts of today's events in favor of keeping an eye out for any cop or Pro Hero about to stroll up to Midoriya and give him—heaven forbid—a lecture about morality, and how it's not right for a fifteen-year- old hero student to use a gun against a bloodthirsty villain who wanted to kill them.
(Distantly, he remembers the echoes of accusation and vandalized desks; distrustful adults and cruel children; a bad Quirk, and, by extension, a bad kid who just wanted to help.)
Ugh. Thinking about a hundred different scenarios of that flavor makes Hitoshi's skin itch. But he wants to take solace in Bakugou's words, to believe that Midoriya won't get in too much trouble with the law.
As far as Hitoshi's concerned, Midoriya isn't in the wrong. He practically bought enough time for All Might and the other teachers to bust in and take control of the situation, even if the situation in question had already been handled pretty damn quickly. By Midoriya.
Jeez, that guy seriously never ceases to amaze and confuse Hitoshi at the same time.
He's quiet, yet his actions speak louder than any voice Quirk in existence. He's unassuming, yet he does unexpected things on the fly, usually for good reasons (even if those reasons nearly give both Hitoshi and Bakugou double heart attacks). He's blunt, yet his words don't provoke harm. Midoriya is a puzzle, yet Hitoshi can read him well enough, and he knows that underneath all that aloofness, Midoriya is as kind as they come.
Although- sure, okay, it was a little alarming to see his best friend force his bo staff into that Nomu's brain without a second thought, fluid and instantaneous.
It was also slightly more terrifying when he brought out an actual firearm from who knows where and aimed it at Shigaraki, and...
(Midoriya didn't hesitate, did he? He never hesitates to protect a life. That's what Hitoshi knows with his heart of hearts. But does it apply to taking lives too?)
And at least it didn't end too badly. No guts were spilled on the floor, at least.
The teachers made it in the nick of time. None of his classmates had been grievously injured, his dad still breathed, and the biggest threat in the facility was gone. (Don't jinx it.)
That's all that matters in the end.
Most of the villains in the USJ have been arrested. The Nomu thing even got bagged and will get transported hopefully to some research facility in the woods or whatever. Hitoshi and his classmates made it out unscathed (if potentially traumatized by the whole shitshow. Man, he should go and find Asui and check up on her. You know- because of the shared near-death experience and all that), his dad and Thirteen will be alright, and everything will be okay.
That's just wishful thinking, though. This is only the beginning; Hitoshi isn't gullible. The life of a hero will never be easy, nor will things ever remain okay in the long term.
But then, when he thinks about Midoriya and how cool and calculated he was, how there was self- assuredness in his movements, how he stepped in between Shigaraki and Hitoshi and Asui without a second thought, and how he never once quivered at the hands of that giant creature gripping his face, Hitoshi feels an ember of resolve settle in the space of his chest where his cowardice would be.
Hitoshi felt helpless before, unable to move a muscle when it mattered, but he'll use this chance to change that.
He won't let himself fall behind. He won't stand frozen and watch his dad get beaten to near death again, and he sure as hell won't let Midoriya handle the universe's bad guys all by himself, regardless of his wide-reaching title as Musutafu's ass-kicking boogeyman.
Hitoshi will be a dependable hero, no matter what it takes.
And it starts by acting as a human sentinel with Bakugou despite the growing chill in Hitoshi's bones, eyeing the many police officers and heroes in the vicinity should they try anything funny. Like, say, condemn Midoriya to a lifetime in juvie for illegally possessing a gun. The chances of that happening are low, but never zero.
"You better not get any of your fucking snot on me when you sneeze up a storm or some shit."
Ah, Bakugou. Gotta love him.
"If I do get sick, I'm taking you down with me. Have fun dealing with phlegm."
Bakugou just scoffs lightly.
~
Bang!
It took three seconds to press the trigger.
T wo for his target to realize.
And one for him to try again.
The weight in his hand couldn't have been heavier than it was now.
~
Tsukauchi Naomasa is currently a tired man who happens to be a detective.
A detective who also happens to know one trouble magnet of a teenager with the instincts of an alert predator on a hunt and sometimes the self-preservation skills of a wet paper bag, but that's neither here nor there.
At least that same teenager has the combative skills of a semi-accurate action movie protagonist trained to do the moves to protect himself.
(The ongoing betting pool affectionately labeled "Local Broccoli Child's Unconventional Weapon of the Day" in the precinct speaks for itself.)
Still, knowing that fact doesn't deter Naomasa from making sure his Problem Child (yes, with the capital letters, and yes, he inevitably picked up Eraserhead's curse of having problem children through extensive exposure probably) isn't hiding any injuries because he has a distinct feeling Midoriya wouldn't want to make a huge deal out of it. He's a dumb kid that way, and it's maybe one of the most normal things about him.
And doesn't that say a lot?
Midoriya from the get-go is hardly a "normal" kid. Naomasa practically watched him grow up before his eyes from every call he gets to pick up back-alley crooks and, occasionally (and even unintentionally, on Midoriya's part) wanted suspects.
Naomasa had his trepidations about the boy back then; how was he so proficient in fighting since eleven years old? How was he able to get out of every scuffle relatively okay? Hell, how did he manage to become the proverbial monster in the closet for most of the criminal network in Musutafu, enough to earn himself a moniker?
He initially guessed it had been an unstable home life, terrible outside influences, and a possible hidden emitter Quirk, but over time, such speculations were put to rest (and no, he did not inspect medical records to double-check if the kid was Quirkless, Sansa).
He has Toshinori to thank for that since the hero essentially gushed over the fact that he was training Midoriya and his friend, Bakugou, in preparation for the Entrance Exams. If Toshinori never once had suspicions about the boy's home life and general demeanor, then that should count for something.
In the end, Naomasa merely ascribed such feats as just Midoriya being Midoriya, an enigma of a child with skills and a composed nature to boot, and with a track record for all of his heroic deeds ("If I could stop someone from hurting others, I'd do it.").
He's also a hero student who shot a villain with a real gun and was responsible for incapacitating the bulky creature called a Nomu with a rod to the brain. Apparently.
Naomasa's already feeling the headache of tackling all the paperwork and reports until the letters become squiggly lines, and it hasn't even been fifteen minutes since he first got the alert from Principal Nedzu.
Even worse, he has yet to have his afternoon coffee. But the USJ incident is currently far more critical than his ingrained need to satisfy his caffeine addiction and deserves his attention.
He has already set up for the students to get checked over by the EMTs, and for Eraserhead and Thirteen to get transported to the hospital ASAP, so it didn't take too long to pull Midoriya aside to get his viewpoint on the entire event before any legal troubles and moral conflicts arise.
(The short, soft-pedaled version, if anything because getting the complete picture from the kid is like playing a game of tug-of-war with a tiger.)
Naomasa's picked up a few dubious stares from the other policemen and some Pro Heroes on the scene already. (Not to mention the hawkeyed vigilance Bakugou has adopted since the ambulances arrived. He can already feel the prickling stare from the explosive boy a couple of ways away.)
He'd rather not have Midoriya be put under a microscope by the higher-ups if they can avoid it, and Naomasa wants to avoid it at all costs.
"And you're sure you aren't injured at all, kid? No internal bleeding I or the EMTs should be aware of?"
Naomasa knows he's gradually grating on Midoriya's nerves for the same inquiries asked.
The boy, as usual, doesn't show it but Naomasa is a perceptive guy, and an annoyed Midoriya is decidedly harder to talk to. An annoyed Midoriya typically comes with the cold shoulder and a clipped edge to his voice, and no one other than Naomasa (and Bakugou, perhaps) can tell the difference between that and his usual austere attitude.
But this particular level of annoyance is around the slightly furrowed brows and stiff shoulders level, so Naomasa's in the clear for now so long as he doesn't push it too much.
"Yeah."
Naomasa's Quirk barely tingles with the signal of truth. Man, the kid's gotten good at keeping himself levelheaded enough to throw Naomasa off.
"Yeah as in no injuries or yeah as in you have internal bleeding that should get looked over?"
"No internal bleeding. I'm fine."
The facial bruises and the general aura of teenage angst say otherwise but sure. Okay. Naomasa knows he's met his "check Midoriya for physical and/or mental trauma" quota for today, so he'll let this slide for now because he has a job to do, and he's sure the kid knows that. (Even if Naomasa still wants to make sure the teen is actually okay and not suffering in silence; lord knows Naomasa's already done with that with his big-hearted idiot of a friend.)
"Alright, well," Naomasa starts, preparing his notepad and sanity. "You know the drill, kid."
And Midoriya proceeds to give an account of what happened in less than fifty words. Always so efficient.
We were about to start our simulation training. The lights and radio signals got jammed. Villains swarmed the place. We got separated by a Warp Quirk, we fought, and reunited. One of us left to get the teachers.
I handled the threat.
It's expectedly short and sweet and tells Naomasa pretty much everything he needs to know.
Except, Naomasa also knows this won't be enough to appease and outdistance the HPSC should they pick up on this story, and he knows they will because this incident will be put on blast all over every news outlet in Musutafu like a string of dynamite.
Midoriya Izuku, age fifteen, and Quirkless went up against two out of the three most dangerous persons in the USJ attack and came out of it as the winner.
What are the odds that the board of directors from the Commission and U.A. would want plenty of eyes on the boy, especially since he's a hero student? Pretty high if they play their cards exponentially wrong.
Beyond that, Midoriya would surely get scrutinized to the bone by the public for his actions, as justified as they were when observed from a certain angle. Naomasa isn't blind to the fact that the life of a Quirkless person isn't all sunshine and rainbows.
He can already guess what the people will say in outrage and blatant bigotry once a snoopy journalist or two gets a whiff of that specific information, privacy be damned.
Hero student or not, Midoriya would get put under fire should it go out that he used a gun, unlicensed and untrained. Let alone the fact that it was against a villain. The laws were harsh and stupid like that.
Not to mention the whole "bar stuck in the brain of the Nomu" thing... Okay, maybe there's something Naomasa and a select few in his team can try to spin on that end, but will it be enough to drive away the prying eyes from Midoriya? It's dicey at best, and as a detective, Naomasa never considers gambling a great strategy when it truly matters.
So Naomasa will need to work extra hard to prevent every worst-case scenario from happening; which means more paperwork and utilizing his connections until sleep is but a faraway concept to him. Good plan.
"I'll get in trouble for what I did," Midoriya says, breaking Naomasa from his thinking/planning
streak.
The kid doesn't say it as a question. He's far too observant and sharp for that. Sometimes, Naomasa wishes for Midoriya to act his age for once and let the adults in his life do the worrying for him.
Sighing, Naomasa nods. "I'm afraid so. While we could frame what you did to the Nomu as a genuine act of self-defense since it grabbed you with the intent to harm, it's a whole other landmine with you using a gun against someone else, even if it was a villain, nevermind the fact that your first support weapon was a school-issued firearm with non-lethal rounds. Legal hoops and brick walls, and all that. I have a few ideas on how to resolve the issue but—"
"I can help 'im get a license."
Like a guardian angel clad in a cowboy getup, Snipe steps in with the easiest and, quite frankly, most sensible solution ever, a low-hanging fruit. to
"You will?" Naomasa raises a brow, already drafting a mental note about this turn of events.
"Yep," Snipe doesn't hesitate, nodding. "I'm certified to oversee his training, so it won't be much trouble." Then, he inclines his head in Midoriya's direction, and though Naomasa can't see what the man's expression is behind his mask, he can tell the hero is impressed, or maybe intrigued. "Plus, I get the feelin' this kid's a good aim."
Midoriya doesn't even blink. He just bows slightly at Snipe in silent thanks.
Huh. Okay. Well then.
"Are you alright with this arrangement, Midoriya?" He has to ask because Naomasa is pretty sure that gun certification training is usually reserved for second-years and third-years who want to have firearms as part of their whole gig.
And besides that, Midoriya might not want to use a gun again after this entire ordeal. Naomasa won't blame him if that's the case.
Unlike what Naomasa thought, however, Midoriya nods again. "Yeah."
Truth.
Welp. That settles it. Apparently.
"Okay then," Naomasa breathes out the stress building up in his spine. "I'll take note of that, have it written down somewhere. I'll handle the paperwork on that end. And definitely get your mom's permission on this, Midoriya. Thank you, Snipe."
"No prob. Believe me, I don't want anybody givin' kids crap for usin' what they got to keep themselves safe just as much as you do, detective."
With that, the hero saunters off, leaving behind a golden chance of avoiding disaster, and a moment for Naomasa to loosen his shoulders from overthinking an array of various solutions and contingency plans.
Being part of law enforcement never gets easier.
"I'm sure you know this but getting a license for firearm usage doesn't mean you can just freely wave one around in public," Naomasa reminds uselessly, as he wants to give himself peace of mind
knowing damn well he won't ever have a moment's peace at all when his Problem Child is out in the world. He trusts the kid, he does; a little assurance never hurt, though.
"I know."
Naomasa offers a tired but thankful grin. "I'll be collecting more statements from your classmates. Go find your friends; I'm pretty sure they've been glaring daggers at my back for a solid half-hour now." It was meant to be a joke, although considering how protective Bakugou and their other friend (Aizawa's son, what the shit, okay) are, Naomasa reconsiders it. At least Midoriya has some reliable friends backing him up.
The kid turns his head, likely having found his friends instantly when he huffs softly in what Naomasa assumes is slight incredulity. "Sure. See you, detective."
"Oh, and If you need anything, just give me a call or stop by the precinct, okay? I mean it; you have a bad habit of asking for help at the last minute."
Midoriya nods one last time and he's off without another word, with Naomasa, once again, wondering how his life became this and why he doesn't regret it a single bit. Must be the coffee deprivation.
"See ya around, kiddo."
~
Bang!
He heard screaming now. But it didn't sound afraid. It sounded angry and vicious, and he expected it.
He expected enemies gunning for him like moths drawn to the pyre. He knew to end it before it could begin.
He locked on. He wouldn't miss it.
But why did he?
~
"Fear not, for I am here!"
When Toshinori burst through the doors of the USJ with a lot more force than necessary (he was nearly too late, always too late), the sound of a thunderclap cut through the air, except it was much more different and deadly than a thunderclap.
Beyond the dust clouds almost blocking his vision, he found young Midoriya holding a gun (oh, why is his student holding a gun, is that real? Does it have real bullets inside?) aimed at—
"You motherfucker!"
Another young man with dozens of disembodied hands on his person (are they props or the real deal?) roared in pure, untamed fury, clutching his shoulder.
I t bled profusely, trickling through his fingers. Contrary to popular belief among his peers, Toshinori wasn't an unobservant oaf. He could guess what ensued but wasn't about to jump the gun.
Speaking of...
"You're dead! Do you hear me, brat?! You're fucking dead!" The villain—because Toshinori was a hundred percent sure it was a villain from aesthetics and general disposition alone—screeched and practically barreled through the plaza to get to young Midoriya, who still had the gun in his hand, pointing it at the other man. The boy was as still as a statue.
And Toshinori paused at the sight of Eraserhead sprawled unconscious and battered to hell, and a large dark creature lying dead in a small puddle of blood for a split second before three more shots rang in the entire facility, and the hand-covered villain writhed on the ground, a bullet for each thigh, and one digging straight through the center of his right hand.
Everything else fell into motion quickly.
The other villain with a dark and misty form jostled young Bakugou and young Kirishima off him upon seeing his fallen ally and tried to swallow them and young Midoriya in its shadows, but Toshinori was faster.
With his enhanced speed, he gathered all five children and then Eraserhead from the plaza, the strong breeze forcing the mist villain (it's a Warp Quirk user, be wary, All Might) and the other congregating criminals-for-hire to stumble on their backs.
He placed the students and their injured teacher near the stairs with the hope that they would listen to reason and self-preservation and head straight for the entrance. Toshinori turned to face the villains again, ready to fight, to protect his students, but a cyclone of dark clouds surrounded the still-thrashing villain.
And in a blink, they were gone, leaving behind a chaotic mess for the heroes, and a shit ton of questions for All Might.
Even now, Toshinori is still confused about what happened.
Well, not stumped enough to prevent himself from doing his job and reporting the situation to the police as well as checking in on his students, but it's the principle of the thing.
He got the whole story from the many testimonies of the children via Tsukauchi (who looks ready to bury himself in a mountain of files and paperwork... Toshinori should take him out for lunch and help ease his stress) but it nevertheless feels...surreal.
Is this what the people from the pre-Quirk era meant when they say they were "stuck in the Matrix"? That couldn't be it, though, because as far as Toshinori knows, they're not trapped in some simulation. This isn't made up.
Everything that has occurred today is real. What young Midoriya did earlier to those villains was
real, and Toshinori is- Well. He's not entirely sure what to think.
He can't ignore the facts laid out before him. Young Midoriya shot a villain (and didn't kill him, focus on that, All Might-Toshinori) and embedded the rods in the Nomu creature's brain, rendering it lifeless. When put plainly, any citizen would think the kid is just as, if not more, dangerous than the villains who initiated the attack on the USJ.
But he also knows that young Midoriya isn't a mindless killer. That much is obvious, and Toshinori likes to believe he's a good judge of character.
The boy has never once given him the impression that he's not what he seems. His self-contained temperament hardly calls for distrust; if anything, it balances out young Bakugou's impassioned drive to better himself (and instinct to scream at things, but that's unrelated).
Throughout their time training, Toshinori has only ever picked up little bits and pieces of his student's nature from observation alone. Then it upgraded to him sharing simple info, like how his favorite animals are dogs or his favorite place for vacations is beaches with seaside cliffs. Or how blatant his love and admiration for his mother is, which is endearing to know.
What he surmises is this: Midoriya Izuku is probably the kindest kid he's ever met.
And... Quite possibly the loneliest.
While yes, he has his mother, young Bakugou, Aiyama (and practically the majority of Musutafu's local police department, if Tamikawa's words are to be believed), Tsukauchi, his classmates, and Toshinori supporting him, there's just this aura around him that only Toshinori can see.
It's muted, subtle, and easy to miss when one isn't actively searching for it, but there's something almost melancholic about the boy who can do the impossible despite the world's jeers, taunts, and utter unfairness. Toshinori can understand that; it's never entirely manageable existing as someone deemed worthless by society.
Even with a large support network and acts of service making a difference, the effects of a long time of abuse and judgment don't simply go away. They stick with you like gum, and for Midoriya, it must feel like epoxy glue. It's as though he's bearing the brunt of something horrible, cursed to carry it forever.
Yet he tries anyway. He does his best with what he's been given—and judging from Tsukauchi's stories of the boy's misadventures, that sentiment rings true in a literal sense—and soldiers through every obstacle, shoulders squared and eyes trained forward.
In that way, young Midoriya is far braver and stronger than Toshinori used to be at his age before he gathered the pluck to meet his Master.
But did any of that mean Midoriya is incapable of taking the drastic route? The last resort when backed into a corner?
No, as it turns out.
Young Midoriya may be even-tempered, but today has confirmed to Toshinori that he's not so yielding to life-threatening danger as anyone expected. Toshinori isn't sure if that would spell something troubling in the future, something bleak and irreversible, but...
As he watches the boy from the corner of his eye, talking with Tsukauchi and Snipe with traces of that same melancholy and something haunted in his blank eyes, Toshinori believes with every fiber
of his being that young Midoriya is not evil, nor is he like the monster All Might had been responsible to fight.
Midoriya Izuku, down to the bare bones, is good. He protects his loved ones from harm, even strangers. He keeps an extra handkerchief for when Toshinori hacks up a lung again. He makes sure young Bakugou doesn't exert himself too much with training. He helps those in need without asking for much in return. He incapacitates a villain without killing him, with the intent to keep his classmates safe. He doesn't kill because he is good.
It'll be hard to keep the heavy hand of the higher-ups away from the boy, but Toshinori is confident they'll find a way around it.
And if there ever will come a time when young Midoriya is standing on the edge of the precipice, Toshinori will be there to pull him back into the steady support of his friends and family. He'll be the kind of hero the kid deserves.
Because young Midoriya is not alone anymore.
~
BANG!
He hit his mark yet missed. He missed because of another sound, another word, another anchor tethering him to the shore. It was an instinct he ingrained in himself, overriding the other programs he'd been raised to follow.
It tugged at his arm like a string on a puppet and—
"Fear not, for I am here!"
The sun shone in his eyes, and he missed.
He did not hit the red circle at the center, but rather the white lines surrounding it. A dent in the armor's side.
(He hit the villain's shoulder.
It could've been his brain—
—could've been his heart—
—but the bullet hit his shoulder instead.)
He missed. And he was glad he did. If he didn't, it meant he was back again for real. Back to taking, and taking, and taking, always. Like he used to. Like he was made to do.
He didn't take anything else anymore. The sun had expectations of him, a monster from the shadows, even if those expectations were simple. He was meant, now, to do good. To save rather than kill. To protect rather than hunt.
To make Mom (Helen) proud rather than force himself into thinking the Director would love him if he broke himself further to fit her mold.
He was not who he was before all this. Yet he still carried the broken pieces of who he used to be with him, now. He still pulled the trigger.
But it was not for him. It was for Izuku, the life he built from scratch. He wanted to protect what was precious to Izuku, and he found that he'd pull the trigger again in a heartbeat.
"You motherfucker!"
Blood seeped through the hole in the shoulder, the muscles torn and scarred. His target's seething rage was ever-present in his clenched fists. Big mistake. Anger begets mistakes begets lifelong regrets. Promises of death spilled from the man's teeth.
You're dead! Do you hear me, brat?! You're fucking dead!
(The villain ran to him then.
But he shot him in the legs, in the hand.
He lost the moment he fell and squirmed on the ground.)
He shot his target three more before the wind picked up, and he was left wondering if he ever completed this mission.
He did.
He protected who he needed to protect. His job was done.
(Didn't he make a vow?)
(Or did it not matter in the end?)
Then after the whirlwind of shadows and mist, the silence came after, and it was...
Deafening.
And the world returned to him again, yet he still drifted. A ghost wandering the living plane. A walking corpse amongst living bodies.
He thought he spoke with someone important to him. He thought he agreed to have eyes watching his movements. He thought his companions were there, keeping him close despite the blood on his hands.
He thought he'd be dead by now.
But he was alive today and tomorrow wouldn't wait for him to appreciate it.
("Hey, Deku. You good?")
No. He didn't think he ever was, even as he tried to pretend.
("Yeah.")
Chapter End Notes
To whoever thought shiggy would die quickly here, I apologize, but I have plans for the dried-up radish over here lol
next up: a filler chapter to calm things down a little. as a treat :D