"We must be wary."
Blackmore's words were spoken in a hushed voice, breaking the silence that had existed between himself and Tsuburaba for the last minute or so. Neither was entirely comfortable with the other yet, though Blackmore no longer thought of Tsuburaba as a stranger. No, he was more an ally, perhaps of convenience but an ally nonetheless. Tsuburaba, meanwhile, was simply happy to be properly acknowledged by his partner at all.
"Yeah..." he agreed, rubbing his head while staring at the screen, watching the replay of Midoriya and Ibara wiping the floor with their competition. "I mean... how do you figure we should counter that? It'll be rough as hell..."
"We must be swift." Blackmore replied. "And prevent the two from joining their strengths. If you can produce a barrier of sufficient size to separate them, we should be able to assail them one at a time. Master Midoriya first, then Miss Shiozaki. I respect her ability... but she does not possess D4C."
"That's probably a good plan." Tsuburaba agreed. "You blitz Shiozaki with your liquid form and get up close. She's awesome with her vines, but up close... she's not that tough. I know that much. And I'll take Midoriya... any ideas?"
"Remove your shirt." Blackmore replied. "The less surfaces he has to work with, the better. He... aspects of old injuries still linger on his body, regardless of how many dimensional shifts he performs. Ghosts of old wounds, you understand. His right arm has not yet fully mended from his efforts at the USJ. It is hard to note, but right above the elbow... strike there, and he will be unable to retaliate for some time."
"So I've gotta beat him bit by bit..." Tsuburaba bit his thumb as he pondered. "Alright... I know how his Quirk works. I think I can counter him; I just need to keep my barriers far enough apart to deny him his warping. After that... well, I guess it'll be a slug fest."
Blackmore said nothing, looking back to the screen. Bakugou's battle had been interesting to observe; it was obvious the boy's volatile nature had been tempered somewhat by the sobering reality of Todoroki's hospitalization. He doubted even someone as openly hostile and arrogant as Bakugou would simply shake something like that off. He did wonder what the fallout of such a situation would be. Heroes in training were expected to give every exercise their all, and even beyond it. Plus Ultra, he reminded himself.
And yet... had Bakugou not gone beyond? He had won a combat exercise by utterly defeating his foe, after a hard fought brawl. He had exceeded his limits from before, using an attack more powerful than anybody had expected. Nobody had cheered, however. Nobody how been excited by his victory, nobody had congratulated him for his 'Plus Ultra' behaviour.
Perhaps the sobering reality of how dangerous a boy like Bakugou could be was forcing them to consider their world differently.
Blackmore touched a finger to his chin, humming as he pondered. Tsuburaba watch, cocking his head to one side and saying nothing. Bakugou's brutal defeat of the general education student made him wince; that was one hell of a sucker punch. And the look on his face when he made whatever declaration it was he challenged the same student's assertions of villainy...
Well, Tsuburaba didn't want to say it, but it was downright... villainous.
He didn't know it yet, but there was another locked in the same thought. Though where Tsuburaba was concerned by the idea, the other was far more excited. Dry skin stretched in a hideous rictus grin as Shigaraki Tomura stared up at the screen mounted on the wall. His hands were making a mess of the flesh on the sides of his neck, his red eyes narrowed with manic glee. Beside him, Kurogiri considered perhaps asking the boy to stop, before he could frighten away any potential guests. Then Kurogiri recalled the bar never had guests, and so he stopped himself.
"I want that one." Shigaraki declared, pointing a twitching finger at the TV, a touch of blood under one nail. "I want him. He'd be PERFECT. A nice mobile DPS to round out our party, even if we need a new tank… and he already looks ready to kill."
Shigaraki licked his lips in delight.
"Kurogiri, send a message." he said. "Tell Giran I want to know everything about that kid. EVERYTHING."
"Yes, Shigaraki Tomura." Kurogiri nodded, though due to his being a humanoid form made of purple mist it was quite difficult to tell.
Ironic, perhaps, that the only one not thinking of Bakugou's fight was the one perhaps considerable as the closest to him. Izuku Midoriya, sat with his hands folded and his head bowed, was deep in thought. But he didn't spare a single one for Bakugou; his concerns lay with Blackmore, and the coming battle mere minutes away. There was an intermission on, a few minutes of respite before the storm could begin and the people of Japan could see reluctant master and self-determined servant match fists and wits.
"He'll come for me first." he said aloud, startling Ibara Shiozaki a touch when his eyes opened and his head came up. "It is as inevitable as the tide. He feels a pained urge to prove himself to me, thinking he is somehow lacking."
"He will ignore me." Ibara replied. "Shall I let you two have it out, then, or should I intervene?"
"No." Izuku shook his head. "Don't let him challenge me first. Pressure him, challenge him, make him focus on you. Tsuburaba and I will battle first. He has done well to get this far, far better than I originally expected when I chose him. He deserves this, at least."
Ibara nodded and looked up at the television, now playing footage of Present Mic live from the announcer's booth, with Eraserhead sitting beside him looking like she'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. Present Mic was opining on the potential results of the tournament, and though his answers were as impartial and unbiased as they could be, he did seem to favour her and Izuku to win.
Izuku, she pondered. When had she started using his first name? When had she begun to consider him more than just an associate.
"Likely when you fell in love with his manservant and joined him on the field of battle." spoke a voice in her ear, which made her jolt and look that way. All she could see was another empty chair, and the wall. Izuku paid her no mind, too busy thinking; or perhaps dozing off. It was hard to say.
"Who…" she said aloud, before she heard the same voice shushing her.
"Do refrain from panicking; it's an already tenuous grip I've got on this reflection, and I'm uncertain how long I can keep this up for." said the voice again, in a strange accent that reminded her of Blackmore, and of Pony Tsutonori, her American classmate.
"I am American," said the voice, apparently replying to her thoughts. "As a matter of fact, I was once the president of the place. No longer, I'm afraid; being technically dead is often the end of one's political career. These days I spend most of my time mentoring your partner, who also happens to be something of an apprentice to me"
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to explain yourself further?" she asked, voice hushed as to not disturb Izuku in his meditation. "Or am I expected to know you already?"
"You may." replied the voice. "I am not of this world. My name is Funny Valentine, twenty-third president of the United States of America, though apparently in this reality I was replaced with one Benjamin Harrison. Unfortunate for the state of the union, I'm sure."
"What do you want?" Ibara, glanced around the room to try and find the 'reflection' he had mentioned. "Am I to suppose you're going to offer me a deal of some sort?"
"While your supposition wouldn't normally be false, I'm afraid in this case you are incorrect." said Funny. "I simply wish to address your misgivings involving my former manservant."
Suddenly, it all clicked with Ibara. Other dimensions, alternate realities, manservants and presidents…
"You are Blackmore's former master." she said.
"His first." Funny agreed. "He died in my service, loyal to the last. But I feel you won't believe me; not unless you can see firsthand what brought him to me, and why I chose him. So before you cast judgement upon me… allow me to illuminate you. Regardless of what you may believe about our past, I am not the villain of that particular tale."
Ibara considered his words, placing a hand under her chin as he spoke and leaning against it. She had little reason to doubt him, and an equal amount of reasons to believe him. But she was stricken by a sense of familiarity in his voice, his cadence, the way he articulated himself. Ibara glanced at Izuku, who was himself still locked in thought, eyes shut and head bowed. It looked for a moment as though he were praying, though Ibara doubted that particular theory. No… gauging by his even breathing and his total lack of movement, he was either meditating or asleep.
He looked so different at rest; his features seemed to soften a touch, his expression a little less severe, his posture a little less rigid. This was Izuku Midoriya with his defenses down, his guard lowered and his true self shown. A boy, a little younger than her by a matter of months, who seemed so powerful, so driven, and yet now seemed so vulnerable. She pressed a soft hand to his head, fingers sinking into the soft green of his hair right above the point where he had tied it back, and she closed her eyes.
This was not the manner of one who would drive someone like Blackmore to such manic servitude, not when the boy beside her was so clearly reluctant to call himself a master of anything.
"Very well." she said. "Tonight. When I lay down to sleep, show me the truth."
The voice chuckled, before disappearing. She waited a moment, before standing up, one of her vines reaching over to tap her partner on the shoulder. Izuku jolted, looking up at her. She nodded, offering him a hand, and he took it. When they were both standing, she smiled at him.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"More than I was before." Izuku replied. "Shall we go?"
The two walked out side by side, Izuku's hands folded behind his back and hers in front. He kept his head upright, hers was slightly bowed in a last moment prayer, before it rose as they entered the stadium. Ibara saw Blackmore and Tsuburaba, already waiting, the former staring at his mask in his hand and the latter with his arms crossed, a grin on his face. He raised a hand to greet her, a wave she returned.
The crowd was humming with anticipation, perhaps of another quick victory, or perhaps of a greater battle. Izuku waved at them, and the hum rose to a cheer for a long moment. He smiled; he was already known, already loved. He had made it, from Quirkless worthless Deku to hero student, now rising to some form of celebrity. He was no fool; Mina had showed him on her phone how his victories were blowing up across the internet, clips of his near instant win of the race and his resultant 'shenanigans' the topic of much debate and discussion. It was exhilarating.
'They know your name,' said Valentine. 'Now ensure they remember you. Implant yourselves into their conscious so that they might think of you when trouble comes. If you will become Symbol of Peace, the pillar that replaces your teacher, you must become as beloved as he is. When in danger, people must ask themselves, 'What would Izuku Midoriya do?' and come to the correct conclusion."
Izuku said nothing. There was nothing to be said. He climbed atop the cement platform that was the arena, freshly resurfaced after all the damage done to it by the various battles. He stood across from Tsuburaba, who was himself standing with his top unzipped, likely ready to drop it the moment he saw Izuku brace for using D4C. Clever; the less surfaces he gave Izuku to work with, the better.
Then Izuku looked to Blackmore, who was still staring down at his mask.
"Blackmore." he said. "An order."
"A request in return, sir." said Blackmore, looking up at him.
"Very well." Izuku smiled, looking at the crowd. "We've done well so far, you and I. They know our names now."
"Yours is a name that should be on every tongue, sir." Blackmore nodded.
"My order is simple." Izuku looked his friend, servant and enemy in the eye.
"Hold nothing back." he ordered.
Blackmore smiled, a rare sight indeed, and bowed his head.
"Such was my request, sir." he replied.
Izuku smiled back, before dropping his stance, surrounding himself in D4C. He had yet to use One For All, his fallback and ace in the hole, as of yet. But he believed that if there were a battle it would become necessary to embrace every aspect of his power, these gifts he had been given and entrusted with, it would be this one.
"Let's have a good match!" said Tsuburaba, before taking a deep breath.
"May we each give our all." said Ibara, her vines flaring as she readied herself.
"No holding back." said Izuku, rolling his shoulders.
"And to the best, go the victory." said Blackmore, placing his mask back on his face.
Midnight said nothing, for there was nothing she could say at the sight of such youthful energy. She just grinned a grin that would have been prime material for many magazine covers worldwide, before raising her crop high. Each participant tensed.
The crop came down. A crack sounded out across the whole of the arena.
And the battle began.
Immediately Tsuburaba was on the move. He blew a platform into existence, just big enough for one foot, and stepped on it, before blowing a second into reality. Then another, then another, rising up as he climbed an invisible staircase to get the high ground on Midoriya. He needed surfaces that were too small and too far apart for the other boy to use his Quirk with, but big enough to stand on. Izuku watched him run on air, and grinned.
Blackmore blitzed right for his master, taking on his liquid form and propelling himself through the air, before a wall of vegetation rose before him and prevented him from moving any closer. He veered upwards, only to realise the vines were climbing over, following his motions. He grunted with a throat that was mostly liquid and reformed, diving to one side to instantly change his momentum.
The vines continued to block him off. He growled, before shooting straight up, forcing his liquid form between the gaps of the vines and reaching for more and more altitude. The vines chased, a little slower than him but still able to keep up, mere feet from his backside. Alright, he decided, time for a second plan.
He dove toward Tsuburaba, who grinned when he saw the bizarre chase and began to blow. Izuku, who had no way of reaching the other student now twenty feet in the air, watched as he blew something very large into existence right as Blackmore charged past. Ibara's vines slammed into the invisible surface, unable to penetrate it, and Blackmore spun around and lunged for their mistress.
"Clever…" Izuku noted, as Ibara pulled her vines back and began to pull them towards herself. He, meanwhile, gauged distance and did something rather stupid; he tore off his top (ignoring the camera flashes that suddenly began filling the stadium at the sight of his muscular figure) and punched his hand into it.
D4C triggered, and his fist emerged between Tsuburba's back and his sports uniform top, slamming into his back. The boy staggered at the sudden impact, twisting around, and Izuku pulled his hand back out of his jacket, before reaching into it with a grasping hand that emerged inside the boy's pant-leg, grabbing his ankle. Tsuburaba pulled away in a panic, coming to the edge of his platform.
Izuku pulled his hand free again, before throwing his top back over his shoulders, tying the sleeves together so it was easy to pull off before channeling One For All into his little toe on his right foot. This would cost him a shoe, but it would be worth it. Besides, he could always swap out between matches. That was already the plan.
He jumped. His toe practically exploded, but at this point the pain was an old friend. The front of his trainer was also demolished, but he did blast himself skyward, right behind Tsuburaba. He brought a hand up, ready to chop the boy across the back of the neck while their altitudes matched, but the boy seemed to hear the sound of his toe exploding (not to mention the sound of the crowd bursting into an anticipatory roar) and twisted, blocking his attack. Izuku grabbed his forearm instead, pulling himself onto the platform.
Tsuburaba twisted, throwing him back a bit, and the two took a moment to breathe. Tsuburaba narrowed his eyes, his breathing heavier than before, but that eager grin was still present and accounted for.
"Your powers are crazy, man." he said, making Izuku smile despite himself. "Warping AND crazy strength? No wonder you made it this far…"
"You're no slouch yourself." Izuku replied. "Trying to trick me into talking so you can catch your breath for your Quirk?"
Tsuburaba shrugged.
"It was worth a shot." he said, before raising one foot. "But I do have a plan B."
He stomped down, and the platform, deliberately made nice and fragile, broke instantly. Izuku had a millisecond to think as he began to drop about twenty feet to the ground below. Tsuburaba blew a sloped surface into existence to slide down, but he would have to stick the landing, or convert it into a roll.
A pair of vines wrapped around his torso before he could do anything, and lowered him to the ground. Izuku looked over at Ibara for a moment, who was still locked in a fight with Blackmore. Impressive multi-tasking, he considered. But then he heard Tsuburaba clearly blow something into creation, and he turned in time to see the boy throw… nothing?
Then something that felt about as hard as a baseball slammed into his chest, and he coughed.
"Oh, hell yeah!" Tsuburaba grinned, before blowing into his cupped hands again.
So, he could shape his creations, and even give them mass of a sort. Very interesting; his Quirk seemed to defy several physical laws. That was fine, however; so did Izuku's, who rubbed his chest, before Tsuburaba threw again. He dodged to one side, only to realise he had been baited when Tsuburaba threw with his other hand, and one of those air-balls hit his shoulder, making him grunt in pain.
Invisible thrown projectiles and platforms only their creator could really understand. He had sorely underestimated a boy who could use air as a weapon, clearly. Tsuburaba began to blow another ball into existence, giving Izuku moments to think. He could try and sprint the distance between them, but a headshot with one of those balls would be incredibly debilitating at the very least. He could keep trying to dodge, or call for backup from Ibara, but the former had already failed and the latter seemed rather busy trying to keep up with Blackmore's withering fusillade of attacks.
Choice D, then: Teleportation bullshit.
Izuku pulled off his top and dropped it on his head, sorely hoping this worked.
Tsuburaba felt something pressing against his back as Izuku disappeared and panicked, lunging forward. This only aided Izuku in emerging from the space between his back and top, twisting away and landing on his back. Izuku rose quickly, as Tsuburaba brought one hand down in an attempt to knock him out before he could accomplish much of anything.
Izuku caught his hand in one of his own. Tsuburaba was clever with his own Quirk, but Izuku and Blackmore had been sparring for weeks leading up to this event. Compared to Blackmore, who was a trained killer of men, Tsuburaba was slow, his attacks clumsy. Izuku pulled him forward, exploiting the fact he was putting most of his weight behind the punch, and grabbed him by the forehead.
Tsuburaba felt himself hit the cement, on his back, before he felt a sharp impact on his forehead and dropped into the inky black sea of unconsciousness. Izuku stood up from his limp form, heaving breaths filling his lungs.
Blackmore solidified again, just in time to bring his foot across in a savage kick that knocked Ibara off her feet. Just as Tsuburaba had promised; once he finally made his way past her defenses, surpassing her vines, she was fragile. One hit brought her down, though as his chest heaved and he placed a finger in his painfully dry mouth, he acknowledged it had been a hit he had needed to fight tooth and nail just to deliver.
He turned, seeing his master also catching his breath while standing over the downed form of his own partner. Both of them stared for a long moment, before Blackmore bowed his head.
"It is time, sir." he said, voice rasping.
"It is." Izuku agreed, bringing his hands up. "Are you ready?"
Blackmore said nothing, switching back to his liquid form and coursing through the air, moving toward Izuku. He needed to strike fast, before Izuku could devise a strategy.
But Izuku had no intention of using a strategy. Blackmore was ragged, on the brink of collapse. He would end this quickly, with a single blow. He brought his fist up, readying for a punch, channeling One For All into the limb. He could feel All Might's eyes on him, somewhere up in the stands. As the bare flesh glowed with those peculiar red and white lines, as he felt the power of the seven holders before him charge up his body with their combined might, he closed his eyes for just a moment.
'One For All and D4C.' said Valentine in his mind. 'They are together in you. They must be named.'
Blackmore materialized, fist coming down in a brutal haymaker. Both boys had eschewed subtlety; it was a contest of strength now. Blackmore's strength of training and of the momentum his speed lent him, against the strength Izuku had been chosen to inherit. Blackmore's eyes behind the mask went wide when he saw those savage lines of light all across his master's arm.
"A name." Izuku grunted. "Fine then."
Green and purple lightning wreathed his form as the two powers began to combine, D4C's silhouette shifting and changing as it formed around his body. He felt their union, earned in this crucible, their fusion. They weren't together yet, but this battle had brought them closer.
"THUNDERSTRUCK." declared Izuku, and his fist came forward, a gale storm force following.
Blackmore's eyes closed as he felt the overwhelming force throwing him backwards, his body thrown back, out of the ring, slamming into the ground and skidding across the grass. He could hear his first master's voice in his head.
'You have done well,' said an echo of Funny Valentine. 'Thank you for your service, Blackmore. Now you must forget me. Izuku will lead you now. Give him everything you gave me.'
"I will." Blackmore whispered. "Thank you, Valentine, sir."
The black mercy of unconsciousness swallowed him a moment later.
In the stadium, Izuku stared down at his arm with wide eyes. It wasn't broken. It wasn't even bruised. He had just used one-hundred percent of One For All, and nothing had snapped.
'Not One for All.' Valentine reminded him. 'Thunderstruck. YOUR power.'
Izuku stared at his hand, slowly flexing it, before raising it to the sky. The crowd exploded, cheers and hoots and howls filling the air with even greater volume than before. Present Mic screamed out his own wild cheer, his excitement practically tangible. Izuku lowered his arm and walked toward Ibara, squatting down to pick her up, taking care not to jostle her head and support it with his arm. She didn't even stir, out cold from Blackmore's kick.
"My power." Izuku, looking to the unconscious Tsuburaba behind him, the unconscious Ibara in his arms, the unconscious Blackmore out in the field. He smiled.
"Thank you." he told them, speaking aloud. "Thank you for all of this."
The screens above caught his attention, showing the final bracket. Himself and Ibara facing…
"Kaachan." Izuku said, his first time uttering that name in a long time.
One last test, then. But it didn't matter. He began walking Ibara toward the nurse's office, following the automated stretchers already carting off Blackmore and Tsuburaba. One last test. One final fight.
"Shitty Deku." said Kaachan in his mind. "Powerless, worthless, Quirkless. What the fuck do you even think you're doing here. No power of your own, no strength of your own."
Izuku bowed his head.
"You're wrong." he told Bakugou, told himself, told the world. "This is my strength now. My power."
Purple and green sparks began falling from his skin like rain. Ibara didn't react when they touched her, and Izuku smiled in defiance as he turned around, looking up at all the cameras watching him as he spoke.
"My Thunderstruck."
Above, in the announcer's booth, Shotaka Aizawa shuddered, a strange sensation running down her spine. Present Mic, taking a moment to catch his breath, looked over at her and blinked twice.
"Hey… uh… have you always had highlights?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.
"What?" Shotaka asked, before looking at herself in his mirrored sunglasses he was wearing indoors for some reason. She blinked twice, matching her friend.
In her mess of uncombed black hair, she could see a distinct stripe of green.
In an apartment building in downtown Musutafu, Narancia Girgha and Okuyasu Nijimura both jolted at the same time, startling the small girl between them, who looked at each of them and giggled suddenly, pointing at their heads.
"Green!" she proclaimed, leaving the two confused before they noticed the single stripe of green in the other's hair.
And in a public bathroom at the same Sports Festival where Izuku Midoriya had just blown away the audience (almost literally) in a single punch, Ringo Roadagain inspected the verdant stripe in his white hair, cocking his head to one side.
"Well now," he said. "Ain't that a curious thing."
AN:
Izuku's weird AFO/D4C fusion has a name now. I thought pretty hard about it, actually, before realizing it was sitting right in front of me the whole time and rolling my eyes even harder.
Hopefully this fight was worth the wait. I was surprisingly busy the past week, so most of this was written the same day I'm posting, while Rise by The Glitch Mob and The Word Live blasted in my ear. With any luck of managed to capture some of the raw energy that song pumps into my veins.
In any regard, that's the Blackmore/Izuku fight done. I'm a little disappointed this wasn't a nice even chapter number, like twenty, but that's just not how things worked out. Welp, here it is! Be sure to tune in next time when we have the matchup I'm pretty sure everybody's been waiting for since this story started:
Deku vs Kaachan.
Hope you all enjoyed!