Before we begin this, massive—and I mean MASSIVE shout out to Forever_Evolve on Ao3 for translating Mikan Tsukauchi's Blood Demon Art, as well as going through all the effort of creating possible moves for her to use, with full translations as well. Like, seriously, they did not need to do this, and yet I'm glad they did.
Also, thank you to Pagemaster 96 for noticing an error that neither myself nor my Beta Reader caught. I misspelled Zenitsu's last name. That error has since been fixed!
That aside, I don't have much to really say. So, before we begin the chapter, as always…
WARNING! THIS STORY CONTAINS SCENES/MENTIONS/IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING: CANNIBALISM, EXTREME GORE, BULLYING, ABUSE, BRUTAL DEATH, HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION, AND HEAVY BLOODSHED.
IF ANY OF THESE THINGS BOTHERS YOU, TURN BACK NOW!
IF THE WARNING DOES NOT APPLY TO YOU…
THIS IS A FAN-BASED FICTION
I OWN NEITHER MY HERO ACADEMIA NOR DEMON SLAYER/KIMESTU NO YAIBA
ALL I OWN ARE MY OCS
Now, onto the chapter!
[Beta Read By Doc43Souls]
[Vol 3 – 4 – The Price Of Peace – Part 1]
"Come again!" Izuku called out as yet another customer left the Mcdonald's building he subjected himself to. The more he stood behind the counter, the more he felt as if his time was being wasted. Unfortunately for the Demon King, he had no real choice but to keep up the act. For as much as he disliked being bossed around by a middle-aged man in a tuxedo, it was his only real way of making money. Legally, that was.
A few days ago, he had a meeting with his fellow Demons. Ever since then, he hadn't heard from them, but he knew they were still alive. Otherwise, he would've felt their connection to him shatter, just like what happened to Ito.
A frown found itself marring his expression as he thought back to the waste of life that was Ito. Ito was a decently strong Demon. One that didn't get enough time in the spotlight. Had Bakugo actually been the one to kill him? Or perhaps was it someone else? He knew Bakugo had no possible way of knowing or having a Nichiren Blade, so it had to be someone else.
The metal that was used to create Nichiren Blades was formed within Volcanos and spewed out during an eruption. It was what the original Muzan's memories had told him. It was a metal known as, well, Nichiren. The Demon Slayer Corp had a monopoly over it. But ever since they disappeared, the metal had all but disappeared with them.
So, that begged the question… who else had a Nichiren Blade? Or, perhaps a better question, how could there still be a Nichiren Blade? Demons were viewed as nothing but folklore, even back then. So how would someone know that Demons needed to be killed via a Nichiren Blade?
"Things to consider in the future then," Izuku thought, tapping his fingers in a rhythm on the countertop. School had been interesting, all things considered. Everyone was mourning the deaths of the Tsukauchi family, and the one who was hit by it the most was a girl named Reiko Yanagi.
He considered for a moment turning her into a Demon so the two friends could reunite, but he decided against it. The last thing that he wanted Mikan to get was distracted by her best friend. As uplifting as that probably would be for his… Girlfriend—he shuttered thinking about having a romantic partner, to begin with, he had manipulated her into being his so he might as well go with it—he also knew that it would ultimately make things worse.
That, and he already had another Demon in mind. He had heard whispers from people in the streets that they were in town. And seeing as that was the case, he was going to work at trying to find them. Unfortunately, he was going to have to wait to find them, seeing as he had to come up with a plan to find them. They were known to be elusive, so much so that the authorities haven't been able to find them for nearly a decade.
However, when they were found, he would be ecstatic.
But, that was for later. Right now, he had better things to be doing right now. Such as going to kick the man in the corner out of the restaurant. He had been sitting in the booth there for hours, in a spot where the sunlight wouldn't reach. The man was wearing a traditional white and grey Haori. Underneath the Haori was a white shirt, and he also, for some reason, wore a pair of hakama pants.
Perhaps he was with Yorai Musha? That was what he thought, anyway. His face was fairly pale, and his eyes were a shade of purplish green. A strange combination for sure, but he had seen weirder with the likes of one Ashido Mina who had been in his art class at school. Quite the loudmouth, that one. And one that would not make for a great Demon. She seemed too outgoing and would probably wind up much like Ochako Uraraka.
That was the last thing he wanted, another Ochako Uraraka who would constantly argue with him. That wasn't even going on about the woman's attitude. Very, very annoying, Ashido Mina was. That was why he actively looked to avoid her.
Moving that aside, Izuku walked out from behind the counter and made his way toward the mystery man. He stood beside him, blocking his view of the window as the man glanced up at him. It was then that Izuku noticed that the man was carrying a sword, concealed under his Haori.
Izuku couldn't have seen it at the angle he had been observing him, but now that he saw it, he came to the conclusion that this man had to have been with Yorai Musha. After all, he was the only one that used swords nowadays.
The hilt of the sword was black, with silver diamonds fitting into it, while the guard was that of a blue flower mimicking that of the blue spider lily. It was quite a beautiful sword, and obviously, it was a custom-made one. He could appreciate the sword just by looking at it, although for some reason it made him shiver ever-so-slightly.
"Excuse me, sir," Izuku started, ignoring the chill that had clawed up his back, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. The store's policy states that a customer must purchase something 200 Yen or more to continue to be here."
"Then I'll buy a can of Cola," the man responded curtly, fishing out two 100 yen coins before placing them on the table. Izuku blinked, was he here for a reason? Had Yorai stationed him to be a part of a mission? That was a possibility. Still, it was odd that the man wanted to stay here.
"Very well then, one can of Cola coming up. Is there anything else I can get you?" Izuku asked, using his company-friendly voice as the man narrowed his eyes at him. It was… oddly hostile, and a part of him was starting to get slightly unnerved by it. It was the kind of stare of someone who was deciding whether or not it would be worth their time to kill someone.
Granted, Izuku knew that he was safe from that. His regeneration made him, quite frankly, undefeatable. His blood was toxic enough that it could kill anyone that didn't acclimate to it. And if he didn't do that, he had strength comparable to All Might. At least, he thought so anyway. He hadn't had an excuse to unleash it yet. So he didn't really know if he did or not.
Either way, he was confident that he could probably beat anyone who crossed his path. And so, with narrowed eyes of his own, he spoke again. "Sir, is there anything else I can get you?"
"Yes, there is, actually. Once you bring me my Cola, I want to talk to you. I need to know whether or not I need to kill you, Demon King Kibutsuji Muzan."
For a split second, Izuku was filled with an inhuman amount of rage. "How does this… this human know that!?" Izuku thought, his teeth baring as he felt a snarl bubble up from his throat and escape him. But, after a second or so of thinking it through, he sighed, calming himself as a wave of controlled anger blanketed him.
"Keep calm, Izuku. Do not let this… inferior individual get into your head. While it is concerning that he knows what I am, perhaps I can dissuade them from doing anything too irrational… and perhaps, he can tell me who killed Ito, assuming this person wasn't the one who did it," Izuku rationalized, a smirk taking up his visage. "Yes, this will benefit me in the end, it seems."
"Very well. Give me a moment while I get your Cola for you. In fact…" Izuku fetched the two 100 yen coins and placed them back on the table. "I believe I'll give you a discount, sir. You can have this one on the house. My treat," the Demon King stated as the man raised an eyebrow. Before the man could say anything, Izuku retreated to fetch the man his Cola.
Walking behind the counter, Izuku made his way to the fridge in the back. Opening the cooler, he took out a bottle of Coca-Cola, before closing the cooler and opening the freezer. There, in the freezer door, was an ice box. The green-and-black-haired teen put the Cola in the ice box for a few seconds before pulling it out. Now, the drink was cooler than it was before.
Closing the freezer, Cola in hand, Izuku walked back to the swordsman and sat in front of him, sliding the Cola to the man. The swordsman opened the bottle, took a swig of the cold beverage, then put the lid back on. "Thank you," the man said curtly as he shifted his hand to the hilt of his sword. "You take upon yourself the name of the former King. Tell me, how much do you know of the original Muzan?"
Izuku's eyes narrowed, fingers steepled as he reclined in the booth he sat in. "To be honest with you, sir, I only know what I can barely recollect. The only thing I am aware of is his demise, and, his ambitions. However, I can assure you, I do not need to follow in his footsteps. After all, I am already immune to the sun, for I was born with immunity."
The man's eyes widened, mouth slightly slack. He clamped his jaw shut, hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. "Born… with it?"
"Yes. Is that an issue, sir?" Izuku asked, his tone of voice pointed, threatening. If the man so much as even unhooked his sword from his sheath, the man was as good as dead. And perhaps he knew that which was he his hand didn't even so much as budge.
"No…. It is… shocking though. It means that I do not have to worry about a crazed lunatic. It seems as if you have a good head on your shoulders. Tell me, then, what is your ambition?" The man asked as Izuku frowned.
"My ambition?" Izuku asked eyebrow raised as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. His ambition was to be a villain that overshadowed them all. To go down in history as a tyrant the likes of which would never be rivalled. That was his goal. To be the world's most dangerous villain.
However, it wasn't as if he could blurt that out. He couldn't tell this swordsman, who potentially had ties with Yorai Musha, his plans for complete and total global domination.
No… he had to feed him a lie.
"My ambition is rather simple, sir…" Izuku began, closing his eyes as he spoke. "I simply wish for Demons and Humans to live in a pseudo-peace."
To this, the man blinked, confusion on his face as he raised an eyebrow of his own. "I beg your pardon?"
"I know that it sounds redundant, and I know that there are inherent flaws in my dream; what with Demons needing to eat humans to survive. But I believe there is a way for it to work. It would take a lot of planning, and a lot of politicking, but it could be achieved," Izuku explained, the lie effortlessly slipping through his teeth as he enhanced its believability using Silver Tongue. "I'm not out to commit acts of evil. The only people who need to fear me are those who are evil, and are begging for death."
"Then what of the families who have died? What of Masaru Bakugo? What of Kaneki Family? What of those two children who were found brutally mauled? What of the handful of homeless people who were torn into pieces and feasted upon? What of the Tsukauchi family? What was the MCPD? Were they evil? Did they deserve those deaths?" The man interrogated, eyes narrowed as the man seethed in rage.
Izuku's frown deepened, body language relaxed as he lowered his head to a threatening degree. "Those were not my doing. If I were to guess? Those were the results of the Demons I have created. I will reign them in, and make sure nothing like that happens again. Rest assured, sir, that it was not my doing."
"A likely story," the man spat. And in that split second, his sword clicked. Izuku sighed. It wasn't as if he wanted to kill this man, but it appeared as if he wasn't being given a choice. In the blink of an eye, one of his bone whips launched out from his back and rocketed toward the man sitting across from him. However, in an equally as fast movement, the man drew his sword and parried the blow.
Izuku's eyes narrowed. Now this… this was going to be fun, wasn't it? Two more of his bone whips launched forward, and in a clean swing, the man sliced the one he had parried off of its root, cutting away the other two whips that had formed.
"Water Breathing… First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
The man crossed his arms together, both hands clasping the hilt of his sword as he swung vertically, aiming to slice across his left breast, which had been where one of his brains had been. Thinking quickly, before the blade made contact, he shifted where the brain had been and moved it to his left elbow as the Nicherin sword dug into his flesh.
The wound burned unlike any kind of pain that Izuku had felt before—and that was something he hadn't felt since he was run over by that truck all those years back. The Demon King jumped back a foot or two, standing directly underneath the sun. Strangely, the swordsman didn't move from where he stood, he simply stared.
At that point, Izuku put two and two together. "Oooh! I see, you're one of the Demons of the old era! Ah, that makes sense. Now I understand. That is why you knew who I was, you're a Demon. Tell, what is your name, comrade?"
"Do not call me that," the man snarled, resheathing his blade as he got in a lunging stance, eyes drilling into his soul as Izuku got in a retreating stance. The Demon King had no idea what he was doing, but it was made clear as day when he slapped a tag on his forehead that read: Sunlight Shield. "Thunder Breathing… First Form: Thunder Clap and Flash!"
The table shattered under the swordsman's lunge, and before Izuku could react, his upper body had been disconnected from his lower body. Izuku's eyes widened as the swordsman landed feet first on the wall, resheathing his sword as he lunged forward yet again. "Twofold!"
Yet again, in a blinding motion, the swordsman slashed at him, this time his right arm which had been connected at the shoulder was cut off. The pain was searing and as the swordsman reorientated himself to land on the wall yet again, Izuku narrowed his eyes. Fleshy tendrils reconnected his cut-off limbs and upper body, his regeneration sealing the wounds shut as blood coated the floor.
Yet again, the swordsman lunged forward. "Threefold!" the man roared, aiming for his neck. Snapping his fingers, spikes created out of his blood launched forth, creating a makeshift shield. He had made them as hard as stone, as a way to actually protect himself, even if it was only for a brief second, all the while he dodged out of the way. The Nicherin sword cut through the rock-like spikes, Izuku nowhere in his sight as the swordsman growled.
The tag on his forehead was slowly burning away. By the rate it was burning, it would fully fade away in three minutes. Izuku had to admit, he had been completely caught off guard. Hence why he had ducked behind the fridge. His eyes glowed a violent red as his fingertips sharpened into claws. The residual burning feeling from the slash and gashes was irritating, and if he had to guess, it would be like how the sun burning his body would feel, but on a far more painful level.
"This must be what a Demon Slayer was like…. I have to admit, they are annoying. And, If I were to guess, this was the man who killed Ito. To think that a fellow Demon would kill another Demon. Then again, this Demon had lived under the rule of the original Muzan Kibutsuji…." As Izuku's thought finished, he blinked, and the man had been in front of him, arms arched back with his hands firmly gripping the hilt of his sword as he growled.
"Water Breathing… Third Form: Flowing Dance!"
Bending his whole body to the right, The swordsman Demon slashed horizontally, aiming for his neck as Izuku frowned. He had been working on this particular attack for a little while, all in the privacy of his house, and out of the way of everyone. Now, he had a chance to use it. And so, that was exactly what he was going to do.
He could finally put his Blood Demon Art to use.
"Blood Demon Art, Biokinesis: Solar Flare!"
White Fire burst forth from his arm as he protected his neck from the slash. The sword bathed in flames as the swordsman Demon's eyes widened. The blade dug into the skin of the Demon King, ripping through with ease. And yet, despite that, his flesh healed as the blade tore through his arm. In a swinging motion, Izuku caused a swath of flame to eject forward in an arc.
The wave of flame cut through The Demon Swordsman from the waist down, singing the wounds as the man grit his teeth. The flame wave disappeared before it could cut through anything else in the room, as he hadn't wanted to destroy the building he was in. That would only lead to disaster.
Despite the pain the man must've been in, he regenerated almost immediately, his former pair of legs disintegrating in the sunlight. He no longer had a pair of pants on, but the man hadn't regenerated his lower half with genitals, so at the very least Izuku didn't have to look at it.
Not that the man would be alive for much longer, anyway. Now, he was in grabbing range. And because of that, this fight was basically over.
In the man's dazed confusion, Izuku lunged forward, grabbing the Demon by the head as he stabbed his fingers into the man's skull, a sneer taking up his visage. "Blood Demon Art, Biokinesis: Mummification!"
By impaling the Demon's skull, his hand begun pumping his blood into the Demon, linking the Demon to him via his blood. Thusly, he was able to use his Blood Demon Art on him. The man practically shrunk like a raisin, his body atrophying in a matter of seconds. The sword clambered out of his hand and onto the ground.
Izuku tossed the Demon to the ground, before picking up the man's Nicherin blade. It was a nice, calming violet blade. The kind of blade that someone with a calm mind would use. Not this pathetic whelp of a man. The Demon King smirked, walking over to the Demon, who tried to move. His body was dried out to the point that moving was impossible. He might as well have been a turtle stuck on their back.
"I'll give you this, comrade, you were the first person to have actually put up a fight against me. Die knowing that you were the first real opponent to The New King of The Demons," Izuku stated, putting the sharp edge of the blade to the Demon's neck. "I heard all Demons go to hell, and if that is the case, then I am truly sorry. But considering you are so old, I'm sure you'd like to go to an afterlife. Tell the other Demons that have died that they will be remembered. Oh, and one more thing… tell Ito I said hello."
With a quick, precise slash, Izuku decapitated the Demon. His body faded away, and yet, instead of a pained expression, the man simply smiled. The man said nothing. He had no last words as his body turned into dust, leaving behind his Haori and shirt. Izuku stood over the clothing, dropping the sword on the heap of clothes.
Rolling his neck from side to side, Izuku couldn't help but feel a little bit disheartened. To see a relic of an old era die, and to die with the knowledge he had. Knowledge he could've used. If only he hadn't posed a threat to Izuku, he probably wouldn't have killed him. He also probably wouldn't have killed him if he hadn't been another Uraraka—i.e. in the sense of being a defiant Demon who would cause more problems than help.
"May you rest in peace, if that is even possible for a Demon."
And with that, Izuku left his shift early that day, but not before reporting the attack as a villain attack. His manager was a little annoyed that he left early but understood because of the villain's attack. And now, with his afternoon completely free, he had planned to go pick up Eri from the daycare he had dropped her off at.
Keyword being: Planned. As he had been interrupted from doing that by someone tapping him on the shoulder. Looking over his shoulder, he was met with a man made entirely out of purplish-black mist with piercing, slanted, yellow eyes. He wore a butler's attire, that being a black waistcoat, a grey button-down shirt, green and yellow-striped pants, and black shoes.
Before Izuku could say anything, the man created a portal out of thin air made out of the same mist, before bowing as he spoke. "I am running off of an assumption, but if you are the rumoured Hero Cannibal, then my boss would like to have a word with you. I am confident that after what I have seen to be the case. And thusly, I would like to inform you that he is interested in speaking to you."
Instead of being enraged, Izuku merely sighed. How this man knew what he was, while important, would have to wait. And, apparently, as would his pick up of Eri. He knew that if he didn't go that this man's boss would most likely spread the knowledge that he, "Muzan Kibutsuji" were the Hero Cannibal, instead of allowing his persona of Izumi Sugimoto to be that.
"Very well. Then let us depart."
Izuku stepped through the portal, and he, along with the man-made entirely out of mist, disappeared from sight. Not that anyone had been on the street, in the first place.
xxXXxxXXxx
Bakugo stood at the entrance of U.A. High School with a frown. His hands clenched into fists, barely contained anxiety following through his body. This was it, he was here. He wasn't a student yet, but he was going to be one. That much he knew. He hadn't trained with his Quirk for all of his life to just be turned away.
And yet, despite his confidence in that regard, he couldn't get Ito's face out of his mind. He had been a completely different creature. He wasn't human, but according to the man who had saved his life, he was something known as a Demon. And if he could harbour a guess, so was that brown-haired woman. They both had been Demons.
Man-eating Demons. Flesh-devouring, bone-crunching, monstrous Demons. The kinds of things he had heard in folklore. They were real, and if he had to guess, those books he had read as a kid about Demons, such as the one written by Kiria Ubuyashiki titled: Demon Slayers: The Hunt For The King, wasn't just a story. It was labelled as Fiction, and it told the story of a group of three brave "Demon Slayers" who started with humble beginnings.
Tanjiro Kamado, a country bumpkin who lived in the mountains with his family. Unaware to himself and everyone around him, his family had been the last known people to use the Hinokami Kagura, aka, something called "Sun Breathing."
Inosuke Hashibara, a man raised in the wilderness, supposedly by a pack of wild boars, and created his own Breathing Style without any real knowledge of them prior to becoming a Demon Slayer.
And Zenitsu Agatsuma, an orphan who lived with one of the cultivators of the breathing styles that they used to slay Demons, specifically Thunder Breathing.
All of them shared one thing in common, and that was how their lives had been adversely affected by Demons. Tanjiro lost his family to them, Inosuke's mother was eaten by one titled "Upper Moon Two: Douma" and Zentisu was betrayed by a fellow Demon Slayer who had become "Upper Moon Six: Kaigaku."
Another thing they shared in common was that they were the ones who ultimately killed the Demon King, Muzan Kibutsuji. At the end of the book, as a little authors note, there was a eulogy for all of those who died in the fight against Muzan. He had always found it strange that there was a eulogy for a bunch of fictional characters. But now that he had encountered a Demon, he now understood why there had been one.
Because the "characters" hadn't been characters. They had been real people. Real people who had been actually affected by the Demon King, Muzan. But seeing as The Demon King was dead… how could there be Demons now? Those who had been connected to Muzan died when he died.
Unless, of course, there was a new Demon King. And if that was the case….
"Don't think about that, you have an exam to do," Bakugo thought, teeth clenched as he walked through the gates of U.A. High School. He was wearing a winter coat, as it was still really cold, despite it being the last week of March. You'd think it wouldn't be so cold, and yet it was, which was a little on the annoying side.
He ignored everyone. He ignored the whispers and the gossip. Everyone knew about what happened both with The Sludge Villain a few months ago, and also with the incident at the apartment complex a week back. Both of them involved him, and that had no doubt garnered him a reputation. A reputation he didn't want.
God… the younger him would chew the current him up and spit him out. He would've called himself pathetic, a waste of air. But at the same time, the younger version of him hadn't felt the loss of Auntie Inko, the supposed death of his major bullying victim, and neither had he gone up against a Demon. He would always wear the scars of that battle on his body as a reminder that there were stronger, far more dangerous entities out there.
Entering the building, Katsuki was directed to the stadium on the school grounds by a scrawny man wearing a strange, mole-like metal helmet. He didn't question the strange get-up, but considering the man was a Pro Hero, it was probably their costume. It looked stupid, but who he was to judge? The future costume that he had designed was going to have massive fuck-off grenades on his forearms.
It didn't take long to find where he needed to go, seeing as everyone who was entering the building was going there. He funnelled into a room filled with desks, which had confused him. It was then that he realized that he had completely forgotten about the written portion of the exam.
To make a very long, and boring hour of his life short: he fucking aced it.
The more exciting part came in when he got taken to the location where the Practical Exam would be taking place. The stadium itself was large, nearly as large as the Rungrado 1st of May Stadium in the defunct nation of North Korea, now joined with South Korea and renamed "The Socialist Democratic Republic Of Korea."
The U.A. Stadium could reportedly hold 156,000 spectators, making it just barely larger than the aforementioned Rungrado Stadium. Prior to being seated, the blond had been given the chance to change into his tracksuit, which had been a standard blue zip-up two-piece tracksuit. After he had gotten changed, Katsuki had been seated in the 20th row, which had been directly in the middle of the stadium, and given the tag of "Participant 4405."
By the dozens other participants filled in the seats around him, most walking in pairs, talking about their potential futures in the world of heroics. Katsuki only focused on his thoughts. He had a game plan, as after doing some minor research about the entrance exam, it was rumoured to be destroying robots. So, his plan was simple: destroy every robot he could see.
Overall, it was a rather straightforward plan. The kind of plan the old him would've revelled in. Of course, current-day him liked the plan, but not nearly as much as the old Katsuki would.
After a few moments passed, a rather strange-looking man walked onto the stage. The only reason why Katsuki could see what was going on was because of the jumbotron hanging just above the stadium. On the stage was a man with electric blond hair, piss-yellow tinted sunglasses, a paint-brush-tip moustache, and a massive boom-box neckbrace.
His outfit was a black leather jacket with a highrise collar fitted with silver studs. The jacket had brown protection pads on its shoulders, and underneath the jacket, the man wore a white tank top. The man, who Katsuki was assuming now to be a Pro Hero, was wearing a pair of black jeans, which was held up by a belt with a golden belt buckle. Finally, for accessories, he wore a pair of boots that rode up to halfway up his lower leg, along with a pair of fingerless gloves.
The Pro Hero in question cleared his throat, and, without the use of a microphone, began to speak. And despite the lack of a microphone, even from the 20th row in the stadium, Katsuki could hear him as clear as day.
"WELCOME TO TODAY'S LIVE PERFORMANCE! EVERYBODY SAY: "HEY!"" The man shouted, almost making the explosive blond cover his ears. After a moment of awkward silence, the man on the stage, who most likely had some kind of voice-related Quirk, mumbled something to the effect of "tough crowd" under his breath. In all honesty, Katsuki was amazed that he could still hear that.
Ever confident, the Pro Hero cleared his throat and continued. "WELL! THAT'S COOL, MY EXAMINEE LISTENERS! I'M HERE TO PRESENT THE GUIDELINES FOR YOUR PRACTICAL EXAM! ARE YOU READY!" Yet again, the Pro Hero was met with deafening silence.
"This guy's gotta have the confidence of a God to keep going after two rows of awkward silence…" Katsuki thought as the Pro Hero continued his explanation.
"THIS IS HOW THE TEST WILL GO, MY LISTENERS! YOU'LL BE EXPERIENCING TEN-MINUTE-LONG "MOCK CITYSCAPE MANEUVERS"! BRING ALONG WHATEVER YOU WANT! AFTER THIS PRESENTATION, YOU'LL EACH HEAD TO YOUR ASSIGNED TESTING LOCATION! O.K!" Yet again, more silence. The Pro Hero continued, undeterred.
"EACH SITE IS FILLED WITH THREE KINDS OF FAUX VILLAINS. POINTS ARE AWARDED FOR EACH ACCORDING TO THEIR RESPECTIVE DIFFICULTY LEVELS! 1 POINT FOR COMMON FAUX VILLAINS, 2 POINTS FOR CHALLENGING FAUX VILLAINS, AND 3 POINTS FOR LUDICRIOUS FAUX VILLAINS!
"USE YOUR QUIRKS TO DISABLE THESE FAUX VILLAINS… AND EARN POINTS! THAT'S YOUR GOAL, LISTENERS! OH, AS PER EXAM POLICY, PLAYING THE ANTIHERO AND ATTACKING OTHER EXAMINESS! THAT'LL NET YOU A DISQUALIFICATION AND BLACKLIST FROM U.A.!"
Before the presenter could continue, a boy with blue stood up from the crowd, holding what appeared to be a handout. And when he stood up, adjusting his glasses in the process, he spoke. "Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but…! There appear to be no fewer than four varieties of faux villains on this handout! Such a blatant error, if it is one, is highly unbecoming for U.A.! Japan's top academy!"
And then, suddenly, the blue-haired teen turned to face where Katsuki had been sitting, though he wasn't looking in the direction of Katsuki, but rather a seat or two higher than him. "And you there! The one with the purple hair and earphone jack Quirk! Why would you bring two massive swords into the exam!? I hope you have a permit to carry those!"
Katsuki turned around, craning his neck up to see a thin-looking girl. She was sitting in a criss-cross position, arms lazily draped across her legs as she sat hunched over. She was wearing a casual purple shirt with the words "Deep Dope" written in English across the chest of her shirt, and she was wearing a pair of black ripped jeans. She also had a dark blue biker's vest over her shoulders, and on her back were two club-like hilts connected to one another by a chain.
Upon further inspection, the girl's arms were rather muscular, if not lean. The kind of physical strength that she had to have to effectively wield those blades had to be immense. Despite her small size, it was clear as day that, regardless of her appearance, if those weapons were indeed swords, and if they were as big as Katuski had been assuming them to be, she was guaranteed to be a major threat to all of those in her path.
Her expression was neutral, with not a single ounce of offence on her face as she waved the boy off. "Relax, stickler. I got a permit, and I registered it at the front desk," the girl replied as the teen bowed, apologizing, before turning back to face the front.
"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! EXAMINEE 7111, NICE CATCH, THANKS! BUT THE FOURTH FAUX VILLAIN VARIETY GETS YOU ZERO POINTS! IT'S MORE OF AN OBSTACLE! TO MAKE A BETTER EXAMPLE, HAVE ANY OF YA'LL PLAYED SUPER MARIO BROTHERS?! CAN'T BLAME YA IF YA HADN'T, THAT SERIES IS ANCIENT! SEE, THE FOURTH VARIETY OF FAUX VILLAIN IS KINDA LIKE A THWOMP! THERE'S ONLY ONE AT EACH SITE! A "GIMMICK" THAT'LL RAMPAGE AROUND IN THE FINAL QUARTER!" The Pro Hero explained as the blue-haired teen bowed.
"Got it… so it's like a stage gimmick to be avoided. Thank you, sir, I apologize for the interruption!" The overtly pretentious teen said as Katsuki frowned. He hated those kinds of people the most. They always got on his nerves, especially when they acted holier than thou. At least this guy had the nerve to apologize when he was wrong.
"APOLOGY ACCEPTED! AND NOW, THAT'S ALL FROM EM! I'LL LEAVE MY LISTENERS WITH OUR SCHOOL MOTTO. THE GREAT HERO, WHOSE NAME TAKES AFTER A HISTORICAL FIGURE, NAPOLEON BONAPARTE ONCE SAID… "TRUE HEROISM CONSISTS IN BEING SUPERIOR TO THE ILLS OF LIFE." PLUS ULTRA! BREAK A LEG, EVERYONE!"
With that, everyone filtered out of their seats. When Katsuki got to the exit door, he was provided with a piece of paper that gave him the number of which field he would be taken to, his specifically being field 3. Afterward, he was told which direction to go to get to the bus that he would be riding to get to the field.
He asked why he had to take a bus, to which he was told that it was because of the distance they were spread out on the school's campus. Katsuki had to admit it was a little daunting. U.A.'s campus had to be rather large for him to have to take a bus to the location in question.
Once he boarded the bus, he took his seat, which was at the very back. He had picked to sit there to be by himself, but, as luck would have it, that wasn't happening, as not even a second later the girl with the large swords on her back sat down right next to him. The two shared a passing glance, which earned him a peace sign being flashed at him before she returned to doing whatever it was she was doing.
Katsuki looked out the window as the bus began to pull out. There was a bunch of chattering going on, none of which he was paying attention to. Out of the corner of his eye, the girl took out her two swords, and just as he had assumed, they were freaking huge. Each sword had to have weighed at least 30 pounds, and despite that, she was holding them with no effort. Not even a single bead of sweat had appeared on her forehead.
They were bandaged with some kind of wrap—the blades, anyway. The hilt was a bright red with golden studs at the ends, both of which had a chain connecting them as if they were nun-chucks. Within the hilt were lime-green diamond-like shapes, and the guard of the blades a brilliant gold colour. From where the end of the blade met the guard four red lines were going out in each direction of the guard, and the ridge of the guard was a lime-green much like the diamond-like shapes in the hilt.
Then, came the blade itself. They were huge, easily about the size of the girl's arms in length. Strangely, each blade had a large circle-like hole just by the rear of the blade. And while he would've liked to see the colour of the blade, they had been bandaged, so it wasn't like he could see them.
The purple-haired held the two blades in front of her, muttering something under her breath, almost like a prayer. Her eyes were closed, and her head was lowered. From what Katsuki could catch, she was muttering some kind of prayer of thanks. She didn't know if it was either to a God or an ancestor. Either way, it hardly mattered to Katsuki.
When the girl reopened her eyes, Katsuki looked away as the girl placed the swords back where they had been, i.e. on the girl's back. He noticed that they had been kept in place by two holders that had been stitched onto the jacket. They must've been made out of something really strong if they were able to keep the swords in place.
After a few more minutes, the bus stopped at their location. Everyone filtered off of the bus in a single-file line, with Katsuki being the last one off. By the time he got off, he had been surprised to see that the Pro Hero who had done the presentation hadn't been kidding when he had said "cityscape maneuvers." Because, and he wished he had been joking, the testing field was a literal cityscape.
The sheer absurdity of that sentence made Katsuki want to flinch. What was even more absurd was the fact that there were multiple cityscapes across the campus of U.A., and that was just a portion of the campus. The sites were separated by large swaths of forest, and that alone showed just the kind of budget they had.
The walls surrounding the cityscape were fucking massive. He couldn't even see over them even if he tried. Even if he had used his Quirk, his arms would buckle under pressure before he could make it to the top. And, from what he could see, the cityscape went on for miles. There was more than enough room for over 200 attendees, and upon looking around him, he noticed that multiple buses had been lined up.
"Shit, just how many of these guys are there?" Bakugo thought as he frowned. Whatever the case was, Katsuki was going to make it into the fucking school. He hadn't worked his goddamn ass off and nearly died not once but twice to get this far, only to fail.
No matter what the world threw at Katsuki Bakugo, he wouldn't bend to anyone. Not even for a second. If that was one thing his current self and his old self had in common, it was that.
"ALRIGHT, LISTENERS!" The voice of the Pro Hero who had done the presentation had travelled all across the immediate area. It was only then that Katsuki noticed the speaker above the entrance to the cityscape's walls. And speaking of the entrance, it was starting to open. "GET GOING! C'MON, DON'T JUST STAND THERE, MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT! IN A REAL BATTLE, NO ONE WAITS FOR A COUNTDOWN! THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST!"
And with a smirk on his face, Katsuki threw his arms back, got into a lunging stance, and blasted forward, cutting through the crowd of people before him.
He was going to pass this exam.
And nothing was going to stop him.
-To Be Continued-