Chapter 33: Breaking Them Down
UA had decided to keep the internships going on, provided that the hero mentors stuck to their designated patrol routes, declined requests for team-ups if their participation wasn't crucial, or kept the students within the confines of their agency buildings working on paperwork.
UA received a little pushback from some of the heroes, claiming that it would be no different than a simulated exercise in one of their training classes if they did so, but ultimately changed their minds when they were told that the students themselves may be the actual targets of Shigaraki's schemes. That was enough to sway their opinions.
By the time Friday rolled around, so did a new development in the situation revolving around Stain and the League of Villains.
Someone somewhere had leaked a video of the final fight between Stain and the heroes that apprehended him. The video was dark and the view came from above, but the audio was crisp and through the darkness it was clear who was involved with it.
The video showed Stain getting shoved around and verbal insults could be heard. It was like something one would see between a group of nasty kids at the playground. It was clear from the video that Stain was tired and fatigued, but instead of being subdued and arrested, he was continually attacked. The video showed him take down and kill two heroes, who were later identified as Jetstream and Zero Point, and while it was despicable, the actions that Stain followed were dripping with desperation. To the average viewer, he was simply just desperate to escape and killed two heroes to give him that opportunity. While that was mostly true, to anyone who watched the video for what it was, the desperation more closely compared to how an animal would lash out when it was cornered and scared.
What caused the most controversy surrounding the video was Stain's words to the heroes, both before and after Conduit came to the scene. He called out the heroes. He pointed out that they weren't acting as heroes should be. He called them villains with permission.
And right before he was knocked out again, he openly endorsed Shigaraki, effectively opening the floodgates within the villain underground.
The HPSC, media corporations, even heroes and contracted specialists whose experience lies within the digital sphere tried in vain to remove every last trace of that video, but it was too late. It had been saved on countless computers, reposted on every forum even remotely connected to heroics, and shared among every circle and group of villains.
The video of Stain's actual takedown and everyone's opinion on the matter dominated the media and online chatrooms for the remainder of the week. The heroes that were positively identified were harangued by reporters trying to get a statement, but without fail they were turned away or ignored.
People had started to criticize the heroes and called for reform. Others had voiced their support in those heroes, applauding their actions and thanking them for removing a murderer from the streets. A smaller portion of the people agreed with Stain, not as openly, but not denying it if they were asked either.
Despite the divide, all three groups agreed on one thing: What was happening now because of Hosu was only the tip of the iceberg.
Monday morning came and class 1-A sat in the classroom in a somber silence. Everyone heard the news of Iida's death and were still grieving it in their own ways. The quiet students looked the same but the downcast eyes and closed off aura around them kept everyone away. The students that normally gathered in their small groups still hung out together, but no one was making the effort to speak, all were content to sit in silence while in each other's presence. The more energetic and lively students like Ashido, Hagakure, Kirishima, and Kaminari tried getting everyone excited about being back in school, hoping and willing their positivity to infect the others around them, but it wasn't enough. No one was biting, and their normally radiant smiles were lacking their usual luster. Before long, everyone made their way to their seats, the only sounds in the room was the breathing and idle tapping of fingers or pencils on the desk.
The front door opened the same time the bell rang, displaying Aizawa looking no better than how his students were feeling. He made his way to the podium and looked at the class. No one perked up or jolted at the sudden blaring of the bell, nor when he slid the door shut, not even when he was at the front. He saw their eyes move, but he was met with apathetic stares.
Aizawa closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was going to be a hard day.
"Welcome back," he greeted. "I hope you've all had an insightful and fruitful time with your mentors. What you learned will only help you on your path."
No response. Aizawa inwardly groaned.
"Let's talk about the elephant in the room. Open floor, but raise your hands if you want to talk. Ask anything you have in mind, and if I can, I'll answer to the best of my ability."
Hearing that, the students stirred, but it was in the form of hunched shoulders and turning heads, all trying their hardest to not make eye contact with either Aizawa or anyone else. It was what he was expecting, so Aizawa gave them a little time to settle their thoughts and find their voices.
A raised hand caught his attention, he looked down to see that it belonged to Asui. He gave a curt nod to her, and she brought a finger up to her chin, tilting her head to the side, "Will we be getting a new student to fill the opening?"
The rest of the class almost collectively gasped in shock. They all knew that Asui was never one to beat around the bush and mince her words, but hearing her ask it like that felt too impersonal.
Aizawa walked around to the front of his podium and leaned back against it, his hands tucked into his pockets, "Short answer, yes." Asui continued to look at him, unsatisfied with the reply, "Long answer, the seat will either be filled by someone from 1-B moving over, or the person who ranked thirty-seventh in the entrance exam will be offered it. If thirty-seventh place has either been accepted to a different school, are content with being where they are in Gen-Ed, Business, or Support, then the offer will be extended to the next place and so on and so forth. If, for whatever reason, that doesn't pan out, then it'll stay empty and everyone after seat four will move up, leaving seat twenty empty until further notice."
Asui nodded her thanks. Aizawa looked over his class expectantly. Now that Asui had asked a hard question and broken the ice, he was expecting everyone to speak up. He counted to fifteen in his head and by the time he got to eight, more hands were raised.
Ojiro had his hand up first, "Will we have a formal assembly to… talk about what happened?"
"No. While we normally would, considering the circumstances, Nezu felt it best that everyone goes over it in the comfort of their homeroom and at their own pace. He did want us to impress upon all of you that we do offer counseling. If anybody would like to talk about anything, whether that be any lingering issues with the USJ," more than a few people still flinched at the mention, "what happened in Hosu, or some other personal issue, that is always an option. Nobody will force you to go if you don't want to, and nobody will judge you for it. I can guarantee you, however, that talking about your issues instead of bottling everything up will help you feel much better in the long run."
"What happens now?" Jiro asked.
That was the big question. It's the same question that's been rattling around in his and the other teachers' heads. Aizawa had a million and one things he could've said to answer her, but they all boiled down to two options: change nothing and keep going like they originally planned or change everything and make it up as they go. Neither of them were things he wanted to say because there was no longer any certainty.
Aizawa was lost in his head, the silence growing longer as he still hasn't answered the question. Jiro grew a little worried, "Sensei?"
He blinked to clear his head. He brought a hand up and coughed into his fist, "Sorry. What happens now depends on all of you." He could tell he had everyone's undivided attention with how they leaned forward ever so slightly, "My personal stance on the matter is that nothing should change. We'll continue going about classes as normal while making the necessary adjustments to accommodate, but of course how I process and react to things is drastically different than all of you, so it's a moot point. What do you want to do?"
He was met with furrowed brows as his class was seriously thinking over what Aizawa asked. He studied each of their faces, but came to rest on Shimura's, whose hasn't changed once since he came into the room. Shimura looked forward with a thousand-yard stare, his eyes open but unfocused and dull.
Heads started turning as they finished making their mind up and was going to respond, but saw that Aizawa was no longer waiting. Aizawa's focus was on Shimura, who was extremely out of it. Curious, Hagakure leaned over and waved her hand in front of his face, seeing if he was responsive at all despite how he wouldn't be able to see her hand to begin with because it was invisible. She seemed to realize her mistake and sat back down in her seat, the sleeves of her jacket crossing as she let out a huffed pout.
Shimura startled, as if coming out of a trance. He looked scared for a moment before he realized where he was and calmed down. He zeroed in on Aizawa, his eyes intense but not yet burning with a fiery passion, "We need to be out there." Aizawa opened his mouth to respond but Shimura talked over him, "I don't care about anything else. I just lost one of my best friends, and you're suggesting we take that lying down. I don't care if we're students. We're here to be heroes, so it's our job to be out there to make the world a fairer place."
"Exactly, but you're still students. The key words are right there, you said it yourself. I understand what you're saying and would like nothing more than to help you in that way, but the fact of the matter is that you're just not ready."
"Okay? And that changes what?" Shimura argued, "You just said that your stance of the matter is that nothing changes, so go with that. Look at the class, does anyone look like they're going to back down now?"
Aizawa did as he was told and saw that Shimura was right. While he could see that they were all a little scared and nervous, none of them showed that they were going to give up. He saw determination in each and every one of their eyes, some shining brighter than others, but still there and not wavering in the slightest. He ducked his chin down to hide the small smirk of pride he was feeling.
Shimura sat back and slouched in his chair, his arms crossed, "Nothing changes. We'll follow your lead. I'll follow your lead, because I can't just sit back here and let Iida's death be in vain. I have to believe that there was a reason behind it." Shimura dropped his voice, a little sadness leaking in, "I need to."
A pensive silence permeated the room before it was broken again, with Kirishima standing up abruptly, his chair falling over at the sudden movement, "Yeah! That's exactly what I'm talking about. It wouldn't be manly of us to stop now. Vice Pres would want us to be the best heroes we could be. Us not doing that would be totally unmanly and would spit on his memory."
More voices of assent slowly made themselves known, all of them saying some form of the same thing. Aizawa was torn between pride that his students are standing strong, and fear that his students were standing strong. Logically he knew that this was inevitable. He knew that he had a good batch of students despite how much he complained about them. He knew that if one person could convince everyone to do something, nothing and no one could change their minds. He also knew that if they were going to do anything, then he needed to let them know the risks, the potential that they are the ones in danger, but Nezu had his tongue under lock and key.
Knowing all of these things did little to assuage his worries because, while they're more than willing to move forward, they're letting their heart lead the way and not their heads. If they stopped themselves from jumping to conclusions and took the time to ask the right questions, they would see why it's a terrible idea. Being their teacher, he could shut them down right now, but doing so would crush their spirits even further. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, somewhere he should be familiar with at this point.
Aizawa let out a small, almost sad smile, allowing himself to appear softer than he normally does. He really was blessed to have such a good bunch of kids with bleeding hearts, but that was exactly why he's so worried. They had a taste of the true dark side of heroics, and while he was proud that they were refusing to break, he was terrified about what's to come.
If their introduction to the darkness of the real world were a five-course meal, then USJ was the hors d'oeuvre and Hosu was the appetizer, which some people have already started on. What's coming next? What would it be like when they finally made it to the entrée? What would the dessert be? Aizawa chuckled remorsefully to himself when the answer presented itself.
Death. Death is the dessert, because if Shigaraki had his way, then everyone would be calling for the sweet release of it.
He took another look at his class, his eyes lingering a little longer on Iida's empty seat and hardened his resolve right there. If they wanted to put themselves out there, he'd make damn sure they were ready for everything, "Summer break is coming up." The students suffered whiplash from the tone change, "You'd have a whole month to relax, enjoy the weather, go on trips, sleep in all day and stay up all night…"
His class eyed him suspiciously. They knew there was a catch coming, and some of the more observant students already figured it out.
"… and you'd lose all of the progress you've made since the year started. It'd be irrational for you to spend that time wasting away, wouldn't it?"
Kirishima had a worried look on his face, "Don't tell me…"
Kaminari turned around a flicked a spark of electricity, hitting him on the forehead, "Don't say it, man. Don't jinx me like this."
"You'll all be going on a one-week summer intensive training camp."
Aizawa was met with mixed reactions. Some were lamenting the fact they'd be doing more work over summer, others were excited at the prospect of training, and those that were a little slow rejoiced at the idea of camping out in the woods and eating s'mores, telling ghost stories, and staring at the stars while sat around a campfire.
"Before that, you have your finals coming up. Anybody that doesn't pass both portions doesn't get to go." He stared down his class to get them to settle down, flashing his quirk for emphasis. He looked back at Shimura, who was staring right back at him, "You want to be out there? Prove it to me. Work your hardest to pass the exams, because the real hell starts afterwards."
"Dabi," Mustard hissed as he kicked his shin, trying to wake him up. "Dabi, wake the fuck up you burnt piece of wood."
Dabi blearily opened his eyes, blinking the drowsiness away as he slowly woke up. When everything came into focus, he jumped back, kicking the chair out behind him as he raised a lit-up hand. Mustard had jumped back into a fighting stance but relaxed when he realized he wasn't going to be burnt to a crisp. Dabi took another second to look around the room they were in.
They were in a fair-sized room with smooth concrete walls and floor, a heavy-duty looking metal door on one of them. There were two fluorescent light fixtures set flush in the ceiling, bathing the room in a soft white color. Four metal chairs with a high back were the only furniture in the room. Mustard, Toga, and Jin were spread around the room, the latter two playing a game of Omochio Tsukimasho in one of the corners while Mustard was waiting patiently for him to finish getting his bearings.
"Where are we?" he finally asked.
Mustard shrugged, "No idea. I was the first awake and saw that we were all sitting in those chairs facing each other. Everyone was knocked out."
Dabi rubbed his eyes, "Why do I feel like you've been awake longer than you let on and you let me stay down?"
"I can deal with them," Mustard pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Toga and Jin, "Between dealing with two people who act much younger than they are or dealing with you and your… everything, I picked the lesser of two annoyances."
"Put a sock in it, brat. You're not Shigaraki." Mustard slightly tensed, "You think I can't see what you're trying to do? I know he's been teaching you since you're the youngest or whatever, and you can try all you want, but you can't and won't ever be him. Stop trying to be something you're not."
Dabi walked around the room, taking it in. He ran a hand on the wall, feeling the smooth texture and knocking on it to confirm if it was solid or just for show. He picked up one of the chairs and lightly hit it on the floor and walls to see how sturdy it was. His eyes raked the edges and noted the lack of any clear sign of ventilation. He looked towards the door. There was no gap at the bottom where it met the floor, no panel for a window, and no handle on the inside.
The room looked every bit like a holding or prison cell.
He walked towards the door and raised a hand to knock on it but stopped himself, he heard a slight hum of electricity, "And I'm guessing one of you idiots found out it was electrified the hard way."
He turned back and saw them all sheepishly looking away. He was unimpressed, "Mustard, I get since he was the first one awake supposedly, but surely you two aren't that stupid. You did tell them it was electrified, right?"
Mustard crossed his arms and huffed, "Of course I did. They just wanted to make sure it was."
Dabi looked at Toga, who threw her arms in the air, "What? It's like telling someone not to press the button. It's just one of those things you gotta do."
"I was just curious, I've never been electrified before," Jin explained, "Mustard dared me to!"
"I'm surrounded by idiots," Dabi moaned and sighed heavily. "Okay sure. And none of you thought about trying to get out?"
They shook their heads and Dabi groaned in annoyance. He looked around the room again, softly humming in thought. Maybe this was Shigaraki giving him a chance to redeem himself? This could be a test for Dabi's critical thinking and gauge his leadership skills. He shook his head, dismissing that thought. Shigaraki wasn't that forgiving. If this was Shigaraki doing his punishment, he sure as hell knew how to make Dabi suffer, trapping him in a room with everyone else. But what if this really was a test? Shigaraki was cunning enough to make it a double bluff. On the off chance this actually was a test and Shigaraki was offering him a way to get out of the dog house, he'll gladly play. Only an idiot would turn down that opportunity.
"We weren't captured or arrested," Dabi pointed out.
Toga cocked her head and pointed to the door, "But there's no way to get out? We seem pretty captured right now."
He rolled his eyes, "We're neither bound nor separated, and we all can still use our quirks. If we were captured, then whoever did it isn't very bright."
The door opened right then, everyone jumping back in preparation to fight. The figure was shadowed by the overhead light, "You wound me, Dabi. I thought you'd rather be in a room with all your friends instead of all alone while I finish setting some things up."
Hearing Kagero's voice both soothed and unnerved Dabi. He gulped as he took another half-step backwards, allowing more space in the room. Toga squealed in happiness and lunged at him, her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs hanging in the air.
"Shi-kun! I knew you would get us out of here. I was getting really bored," she cried. She looked up at him, expecting to see the green eyes she's grown to love but was instead met with amber and blue. She immediately released him and drew her knife, "You're not Shi-kun. What'd you do with him?"
Kagero walked further into the room completely illuminated now. He was wearing a grey oversized and ripped long sleeve shirt with a pair of slim black pants. His hair was swept to the side and his mask was absent, his large scar on full display. The only difference was his eyes.
"I assure you, Toga, I am him. I'm just trying out a new look, what do you think?" He received weak replies and compliments from the group, "Yeah, I'm not as enthused about the eyes as I thought I would be either. No matter. Come, come."
He turned around and beckoned for them to follow, not caring to make sure they were following. He led them through long hallways with unmarked doors, each one the same as the last.
Jin couldn't help his curiosity, "Where are we, boss? Don't tell me, I don't want to know!"
"At a different facility. In case you didn't piece it together already, this is where we keep our guests."
A chill went up their spines, the underlaying message clear as day. Jin looked to the side and back at the group, "Sorry I asked. It was obvious, you're all just stupid."
"Where are we going?" Mustard hazarded asking.
"Just up ahead. We're almost there now."
At the end of the hall there was a wide, circular chamber. As the group came into it, they saw four operating tables in the middle under a large surgical lamp with multiple big white bulbs. The tables were set in a cross with the heads in the middle. Spread throughout the room were rolling cabinets and tables with an assortment of medical tools and less than savory items displayed on top, all shining and clean.
On one of the walls was a wide window with glass tinted so heavily it looked like a black mirror. As they passed by it, they couldn't help but stare at their reflections, trying to look at the person or people sitting on the other side they just knew were there.
Kagero walked off to the side and leaned against the wall, gesturing with his chin, "Pick a table."
Toga, Mustard, Dabi, and Jin all looked to each other apprehensively. They eyed the tables with suspicion, looking them up and down and just now noticing the metal restraints and thick nylon belts on it. Their eyes darted to the rolling tables with the tools on them.
"Uh, Shigaraki. We're not- you're not gonna, you know," Mustard spoke up, "cut into us and stuff, right?"
Kagero didn't respond, instead gesturing again. They slowly walked up, and timidly sat on the tables. If the viewing window was twelve o'clock, then at the seven, twenty-three, thirty-seven, and fifty-three minutes laid Toga, Mustard, Dabi, and Jin respectively. Once they were settled, he began strapping them in, the sound of metal clamping and fabric sliding filled the air.
As Kagero got around to Toga, she tried breaking the heavy atmosphere with a joke, "You know, Shi-kun. If you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask. Oooh oooh, or don't. I wouldn't mind getting overpowered if it were you."
Dabi and Mustard gagged in disgust while Jin just shook his head, "Toga-chan, not the time for that. You're really kinky! I can respect that."
Kagero was just about to fasten the restraint on her left ankle when she said that and he froze in shock. She felt the movement and lifted her head up, smiling widely, "Oh? Is that something you're interested in?"
"Get a room!" Dabi complained, "I don't need to hear this shit right when he's about to do something probably extremely fucked up to us."
The restraint clamped closed and Kagero walked back towards the middle where their heads met at the intersection, "Are you familiar with how the military trains its soldiers? Or I guess how the American military does its special forces? They put them through intense rigorous training, both physical and mental, for weeks at a time. They break them down until they're essentially clean slates so that they can become the best soldiers possible. By the time they're through with them, the soldiers are stronger than ever before.
"In theory, it's the same as gaining muscle. You break and tear the muscle fibers and let them grow back stronger than before, and then you do it over and over again. The military will break down even the strongest of people until they're little more than bodies going through the motions while their mind gets molded into whatever that specific unit needs. It's genius, really, but extremely rudimentary. The process hasn't been changed for hundreds of years because it works."
"So what, are you going to brainwash us? Take us apart and replace the weak parts with something stronger? Make us into one of those Nomus you keep hanging around?" Dabi snarked, trying to sound unafraid but his voice quivered a little.
"I would, but that process takes too long and I would lose the skills that each of you have carefully crafted over the years. It would be a waste of potential."
Kagero brought his hands together, a solid black orb formed in his right while he tugged on a strand of it in his left. It snapped back like a rubber band and the orb changed from solid black to red on the inside with black strands wrapped around it. He tossed the ball up and down in the air a few times. Toga and Jin, whom Kagero was stood in-between, saw the mass and tried moving away, but they were stuck. They struggled against the bonds but they didn't move a centimeter.
"I'm not going to turn you mindless. I'm not putting any of you under the knife. I'm just going to remind you why you chose the path you're on, why you did the things you did, dredge up the memories you keep suppressed and locked away. People tend to crumble and fall when they're faced with their fears and traumas. The tables and straps are to make sure you don't hurt yourselves."
The group started struggling harder now, fear painting their features and distress leaking into their movements as they finally understood what their punishment was. He asked if they'd had a good night's sleep not to keep them on their toes, afraid of something happening to them over the night, but because he knew that after today, that might be a thing of the past.
Kagero walked to one of the few tables that were empty on top and wheeled it so it sat directly in the middle. Satisfied with its placement, he walked towards one of the doors, tossing the red and black orb behind him. It landed on the table and immediately tendrils of black and red shot out, latching themselves onto their heads. Strangled cries came out from the four of them as it spread out and covered their entire face, then receding and thinning so three connections could be seen coming out of their eyes and mouth, leading back into the main body of the tendril. Their bodies wriggled and writhed on the tables but the restraints held strong.
"I expect you to come out on top."