"And here's my favourite spot."
Midoriya gestures towards the printer and photocopier that stand side by side, pressed against the wall and next to the window. Todoroki stares at them blankly, his fingers trailing on one of the purring machines.
"Is there anything special about it?"
"Look at the window."
Todoroki complies, detaching himself from them to hover around the window, hands gripping the frame. His eyes light up in recognition when they land on the cafe below.
"That's where we first met."
"Actually, we first me in front of Yamazaki's house but you can say it was in this cafe."
Todoroki glances at him from over his shoulder. "I'm not surprised you're corrected me."
"What is this supposed to mean?"
"It fits your character to be precise."
Midoriya wonders if it's meant as a fact, a compliment or an insult. With Todoroki's neutral tone, he'll probably never know.
"The only floor I didn't show you is the lower one because it's still under construction."
"I heard about the news, yes. Quite regrettable."
Again, Midoriya doesn't know if it's sarcastic or genuine. As a test, he makes Todoroki lead them back to the office. He's quick to realise that the Pro Hero has already memorised the building's layout, navigating easily through the right corridors even if they all look the same, or perhaps he's orienting himself by spotting the rare frames on the walls. They reach the office in a record time, Todoroki's quick pace almost forcing Midoriya to jog behind him.
The other five team members are already there, greeting them as they enter. While Tamakawa whisks Todoroki away, Midoriya settles at his desk and rummages through the tasks Tsukauchi gave him. It's redundant to see the word 'list' on each bullet point, but one of them piques his interest.
List of The Judge's Identity Suspects
It's entertaining enough to list people to frame for his own crimes.
To be honest, Midoriya never thought about framing someone, not because he never thought about getting caught, but because he never thought so far in his schemes.
It's time to get to work, then.
He didn't even have time to open his browser when an unwanted detective drifts his way.
"Todoroki's fitting well, don't you think?"
Midoriya hums in approval, not missing a beat as he types on the keyboard. It's most impolite but Tsukauchi doesn't mention it, rather insisting on conversing.
"What do you think about him? Will he make a good detective?"
"I assume he will. His mind's very logical," Midoriya states, and that's as close as Todoroki will get as compliment from him.
"I'm glad you two made up. I think you'll make a great team."
"What makes you say that?"
"Todoroki's a Pro Hero first and foremost, so he's specialised in catching criminals and villains. You, on the other hand, have the brain to identify and corner them."
There's a second of silence before Midoriya's typing resumes. "I didn't know you were thinking so highly of me."
Tsukauchi sighs, "We didn't mention the conversation we had before you left but we can't act as if it didn't happen. Midoriya-kun, I apologise if I made you think I hated you or that I looked down on you. The Judge case takes a lot of my energy and leaves me short on patience, but it's not a reason to ignore or belittle you."
Midoriya expects more but it has to be wishful thinking since the detective doesn't utter a sound. Midoriya swivels on his chair and takes in Tsukauchi's downcast eyes.
"I apologise as well for stepping over my bounds and interrupting you."
Tsukauchi bows his head in gratitude, asking, "You will tell me if something bothers you from now on, won't you?" Midoriya's mouth keeps closed and he concedes, "I guess you don't have to tell me because I have to regain your trust, but you'll tell someone, right? You can't keep everything on your chest, Midoriya-kun. You have to tell someone."
"I will." I can always tell Tomura.
Tsukauchi beams at him, "I'm relieved."
But his smile was shaky, already crumbling around the edges like a castle made of cards. Midoriya doesn't point it out and rather focuses on finishing his document. Demotivated by his lack of talk, Tsukauchi leaves him to hover around Tamakawa before they both walk out of the office.
"The relationship you have with Tsukauchi seems strenuous."
Midoriya isn't even startled by Todoroki's straightforwardness and his sudden presence by his side. It's frightening how fast he got accustomed to the Pro Hero's unexpectedness.
"It doesn't seem. It is."
"I see."
Todoroki sees a lot of things Midoriya doesn't.
"You don't have to be on guard around me," he continues. "We're colleagues now."
Despite this, Midoriya finds it impossible to loosen his body. Instead it winds up even more, now aware that his stiffness has been pinpointed. Todoroki shrugs as he slumps on his chair on which he pivots using his feet to move.
"Do as you wish. You won't see any objection if I do relax, will you?"
"I don't," Midoriya answers but it's tainted with uncertainty.
"I hear judgment in your voice."
"I didn't think you'd be capable of relaxing."
Todoroki snorts, "I'd say the same about you. I still don't, in fact, unless you prove to me that you can by showing it to me."
Midoriya rolls his eyes and opens a new tab on his computer, aware of Todoroki's eyes fixed on him, waiting. At first it doesn't make any difference but gradually Midoriya's nerves fray and he turns around entirely from Todoroki.
"I'm working. You should too."
"I am. Tsukauchi told me to observe you."
"I'm not a child or a lab rat," Midoriya hisses. "I don't need people looking after me."
"If you want my opinion, he considers you more like a slumbering volcano about to explode." He shrugs when he meets Midoriya's glare. "A volcano's more dangerous than a child."
"You're much more different than how I imagined you to be."
Todoroki blinks, skepticism flickering across his face. "You imagined me?"
"Not like that," Midoriya's quick to reply. "As a partner. I mean, work partner. Colleague."
"I see."
And that's why Midoriya doesn't particularly like interacting with his species.
Todoroki clears his throats, asking, "How far are you concerning the Judge case?"
"Didn't Tsukauchi-san tell you?"
"Yes, but I want to hear it from you."
"It's simple, really. We conducted some standard analysis, consulted you concerning Yamazaki's murder and I think Tsukauchi and Tamakawa met Shimomura's girlfriend. Oh, and we received a threat we think is from the Judge but our labs got incinerated before we could analyse them. As you can see, we're open to new ideas."
"What about the motive?"
Midoriya points Tsukauchi's mind map. "It has something to do with the 'guilty' signs. He accused his victims of something and killed them for it."
"Men often mistake killing and revenge for justice. They seldom have the stomach for justice."
"What did you say?"
"I said—"
"So if your mother's murdered and nobody does a thing for her when they could, you wouldn't do anything for her as well?"
Midoriya didn't expect Todoroki's face to darken, his eyes dulling as if they're looking at something near yet too far away to lock onto. He runs one hand through his hair, his motion mixing white strands with crimson.
"I wouldn't," he whispers.
Midoriya digests the answer and replies coldly, "Yes, you're much more different than I imagined."
"You must understand that quenching your thirst for vengeance by killing doesn't do anything but encourage more violence," the Pro Hero sighs. "There's a reason why the law forbids killing and—"
"But it's your mother."
He's convinced this argument will convince him but finds himself shut down as he watches Todoroki's passive demeanour switches to simmering. It's so abrupt that Midoriya physically feels a door being slammed in his face.
"I would ask of you to please refrain mentioning my mother."
"Oh, are you suddenly realising your cowardice?"
"There's no cowardice in resisting the urge to kill. I prefer acting like a human being, not like an inconsiderate beast."
"So you have no feelings. You're like an ice king."
Todoroki glares at him, straightening on his seat. "Don't call me that."
"Did I hit a nerve?"
The Pro Hero refuses to take the bait, turning to the computer he installed on his desk. He's intent on ignoring Midoriya but the latter leans forward in his direction, arms thrown haphazardly on his chair's backrest. The tables have flipped, and Midoriya will exploit this opportunity to its maximum.
"It's true that the nickname Ice King's about half of your personality. How should I call the other?"
"Don't call me anything."
"I should call you Shouto. It's your Pro Hero name after all, so you should recognise yourself when I call you that. Still, it's your first name. Isn't that a bit arrogant?"
"Are you looking for a confrontation? Because that's where we're heading."
Midoriya shrugs, ignoring Todoroki's warning, "At least you didn't call yourself Endeavor Junior."
Todoroki's chair screeches as he stands, fists curled by his sides. He doesn't glance at Midoriya as he gathers some papers next to his computer, wholly focused on his task. Instead of putting them down gently, he rather slams them on the desk, the sound resounding like a whip.
"This conversation's over."
"I was starting to have fun."
Todoroki stops and whirls around, stomping back to him. Midoriya contemplates his face in fascination. Everything about Todoroki's optimised so that every action produces minimal reaction. He shows anger by the simplest twitch of the lips, frustration by the way his eyes flash, interest by the tilt of his chin, peacefulness by the slope of his shoulders… but here's a pulsing vein that appeared on his left temple, his jaw clenched as he suppressed his thoughts, his body taunt as he plants himself in front of Midoriya.
"So this is your idea of fun? Toying with people?"
His eyes are narrowed down, glowering. Midoriya's already seen his eyes like this but never lit with such emotion. They were molten by irritation, but even then Midoriya bet his comments didn't unleash his full wrath. If Todoroki once knew the frustration coursing through Midoriya's veins, then Midoriya is certain what he witnesses here and now is a graze on the surface.
Is it bad that he seeks for more?
"It's entertaining to see your face looking so alive," Midoriya admits. "It's refreshing."
"Is this how you treat your colleagues? If so, I understand why Detective Tsukauchi has trouble dealing with you."
"He doesn't have any trouble dealing with me."
"Of course. Don't go around looking for trouble. You don't have the strength to fight back."
Just like that, Midoriya's fantasy shatters. It's been a chimera, of course, to imagine Todoroki understands what he's going through. There's anger bubbling within him, Midoriya can't deny it, but its roots don't find their source at the same place. How can it be, when Todoroki's the very picture of everything Midoriya desires to be?
As he stares at him, he's seized once more by poisonous envy to switch places with the Pro Hero in front of him, by overwhelming hatred not towards Todoroki but towards himself.
Todoroki snarls, "I thought we had a truce, but if you're always this annoying I'm afraid we'll have some difficulties being civil to each other."
"This is me," Midoriya counters, arms spread open. "This is my true self. I wonder, beneath that icy personality of yours, who are you hiding?"
Todoroki's lips purse, eyes shadowed by his furrowed eyebrows. Midoriya's disappointed to see them lifeless. Silent, the Pro Hero ambles away without glimpsing back at him.
Midoriya leans back on his chair, fingers laced together. The way people work is simple: their every action is done for a motive, to achieve their dreams. Once this motive's discovered, every movement becomes predictable and one can understand the other's personality. Todoroki is a character all in layers and subtleties, and Midoriya can't wait to unravel him.
When Midoriya arrives at the League's headquarters, there's no one in sight. Strangely enough, even if Midoriya rarely comes, he's become accustomed to seeing Kurogiri behind the counter and Tomura gaming on the couch. Midoriya settles down on the opposite couch, drawing his knees close to his chest.
He thought a lot about his next action as the Judge. He feels as if he let it down lately, that he pushed it aside to favour his fake police officer persona. Yet by shaking Todoroki's hand and hearing him choose idleness instead of action, Midoriya realised that he couldn't abandon. A Pro Hero's nemesis is apathy. Midoriya refuses to succumb to the disease that plagues almost every Pro Hero nowadays. He refuses to let them get away with failing their duty without any consequences.
The current situation, however, is far from perfect. Murder demands a motive, and Midoriya's certain he has the noblest. It also demands a victim, and he has plenty of names stocked in his mind. What he needs, however, is both an alibi and the courage of carrying out the deed.
Midoriya jolts when someone sits beside, the couch dipping under his weight. He's careful to avoid Tomura's arms as the villain spreads them wide to lay them on the couch's cushions standing against the frame.
"If you want to kill, you should shut up. It gives away your position."
"I didn't notice I was mumbling."
"You never do. You should stop this habit, or else you might slip up around the police."
Midoriya unfolds his legs, facing Tomura. He can't convey through a gaze every thought swarming his mind, but the villain meets his eyes as if he already knows what's brewing within him.
"What is it? I know you're dying to tell me something."
Midoriya takes a deep breath, observing his hands. Their pallor screams of a recluse who spent his inside gazing at a computer screen. His torn nails tell the story of distress and insecurity permeating his mind. Numerous contusions mar his skin and although most of them faded with time, it looks to Midoriya that they're as blotted with purple as the days where he came back from school.
And soon, these same hands would be killing.
"I'm ready. Tell me what to do."
"Tell you what?" Tomura insists.
"Tell me how to prove myself."
If he knew better, Midoriya would swear he saw a smile behind Tomura's hand covering his visage.
"Send your letter. You seem to enjoy toying with your preys, so at least have fun while you're at it. If the two morons you killed before are anything to go by, your victim will think it's a joke."
And it gives me a chance not to kill, Midoriya ponders.
"The way you kill is very personal. Everyone has their own method. For example, Toga's all about blood and guts while Dabi prefers smoking out his prey then burning him until nothing remains."
"That's because they use their Quirk," Midoriya notes, unable not to spit it out in envy.
"You may not have a Quirk but that doesn't mean you can't do a thing. I'm sure you were trained by the Police Force to incapacitate your enemy, so you do as you learned and then that's where the fun starts."
Midoriya frowns but doesn't add anything. He devoured books on the matter, or rather on self-defence since there's no textbook on how to murder someone. Hands can kill, if warped around the neck to either break it or strangle the person. Kicks using his fists, his elbows, his knees, his legs or even his head can stun his target for a few seconds at most. Areas to aim at consist of head, neck, stomach, ankles—
"The best advice I can give you, kozo, is to let go."
"Let go?"
Tomura grips his wrist, Midoriya reeling back against the couch's arm. He expects his flesh to crumble into peppery flakes but Tomura's Quirk doesn't activate. Still, Midoriya knows that when the villain will pull away, red marks will be etched on his skin.
Tomura leans forward, whispering, "Can you hear it?"
But Midoriya can't hear anything but his stuttering breathing as he shakes his head. Tomura's hold tightens, making him wince.
"This is your pulse. Can you hear it beat?"
It's hard not to feel his heart threatening to burst both inside his chest and his wrist. As if to make his point clearer, Tomura brings his wrist close to Midoriya's ear.
"Can your hear it race, kozo?"
"Y-Yes," Midoriya nods, still trying to crawl away from Tomura. "What does it have to do with—?"
"It has everything to do with killing. You have to see it as a communion. Both your heartbeats will race but only one will cross the finish line. What you have to do is to make sure you're the winner, or else I can't guarantee that your pulse will be as vigorous as it is now."
Tomura releases him so suddenly that Midoriya almost tumbling down the couch. He scrambles to sit properly as Tomura rises, heading to the counter. He pours down water in two glasses, handing one to Midoriya.
"Have you decided who's going to be your victim?"
"You'll see it in the news tomorrow," Midoriya replies, grabbing the glass.
The villain smirks, rising his own. "Kampai."
Midoriya stays silent as he downs his water.
Tozawa Anri
Pro Hero name: Knowledge
Quirk: Panmnesia (remembers absolutely everything one feels, encounters and experiences)
Crime: Duty to honour
Explanation: As a Pro Hero, Tozawa Anri known as Knowledge is bound to honour her profession by being transparent and committing no crimes. (Click link for crimes exhaustive list). From December 2011 to this day, Tozawa Anri has used her Quirk not to serve the civilians as she's bound to but to harm them through drug dealing and weapon trafficking.
The Law is impartial and states that every person, whether Pro Hero or civilian, shouldn't partake in these illegal activities. Through thorough research, there's no mistaking that Tozawa's affiliated with the yakuza as an informant broker, using her Quirk to exchange information and administer complex trafficking systems (Click link for references).
Therefore, not only she sullies the profession's reputation, but she chooses her own selfish needs before the civilians', which is inexcusable.
Verdict: Guilty
Status: Alive
Midoriya swallows, burying his phone in his pocket. Even if Tomura told him not to think too much, he can't ignore his logical mind begging to devise a plan. Entrusting the task to locate Tozawa Anri's house to Kurogiri, he's now lingering in front of her residence. It's trickier than he thought since she lives in an apartment block. The initial plan was to set her house afire but Midoriya doesn't want to kill the people around her as well.
His target's one particular person, and so it will remain.
Still, if I can't burn her house what should I do?
He swears under his breath and adjusts his hood so it covers his face. He keeps stealing glances at the left window on the higher floor but the lights are off. He has no idea if Tozawa's even in her house. He knows nothing.
What can I do if I don't know anything? How should I proceed?
He was supposed to prove himself, to kill a Pro Hero by his own hands, to show everyone that the Judge's strong. Yet here he is, sitting on a park bench, mumbling to himself like the idiot he is, and he can't stop his knees from jerking. His lips twitch as well as his teeth gnaw at his knuckles.
Tozawa's memory is her greatest weapon and her greatest flaw. If she sees through me like Todoroki, she can easily manipulate my emotions and neutralise me. However, if I find what ticks her off, I can flip the tables and kill her when she's unstable.
Midoriya buries his head in his palms, groaning. His knees jerk once more, but now even his arms tremble and his fingers twitch, nails tearing at his skin.
It's never gonna work.
"Just breathe."
Midoriya strengthens, gasping. His vision's blurry but he sees long blond locks framing a heart-shaped face. When she speaks, she has Tsukauchi's authority but also Midoriya Inko's gentleness.
"Head between your knees, hands in my hands."
He startles when warm hands take his. He wants to pull away but the woman's grip's unyielding, reminding him of Tomura's.
"Head between your knees," she repeats, her voice sterner.
He obeys, bending down as he struggles for air. He remembers his mother's voice whispering in his ears the numbers one to three, patting her head and holding him tight even if he shakes like a leaf. She tells him to think about All Might. She insists that he has nothing to fear, nothing to worry about, because if she ever disappears then All Might will come to save him because that's his duty as a Pro Hero.
Midoriya knows his mother meant well when she lied to him about Pro Heroes, that she doesn't know the world as he does.
"There, there," the woman chirps as she wipes her thumbs on his cheeks. "You're all better."
He blinks, observing her. She's a petite woman wrapped in a white fur coat, a green beret nestled atop her curls. Her green eyes are brimming with compassion as she sizes him up as well. Recognition hits Midoriya like a ton of bricks.
"Y-You are—"
"Ssh!" She interrupts, one finger pressed against his lips. "I know you know who I am, but just for once let me introduce myself. I'm Tozawa Anri. You can call me Anri."
"Toza— uhm, Anri-san—"
"You sound so formal. You have to loosen up."
She punches his elbow with little strength, not even enough to make him budge. Midoriya isn't sure if he should laugh or cry.
"You look like you're cold. I can make you hot cocoa if you want? I live next door."
She points the building in front of them, her smile so bright it almost pulverises Midoriya's resolve. Yes, he's cold. Yes, he knows she lives next door. However, it doesn't negate the fact that yes, she's a Pro Hero who sinned and that yes, she's been selected by a letter he sent a few hours ago.
"You know what? I've seen this expression many times before and as you know, I remember everything I see. What you have on your face screams that you need some hot cocoa."
"That's not really an expression," Midoriya feebly chuckles.
"Alright, if you want me to act like the walking encyclopaedia I am, then the expression you're wearing is called hopelessness."
He would've never believed that he could fool Knowledge herself.
Tozawa's hand still holding his, she pulls him off the bench with bouncy steps. He lets himself be dragged across the street than into the building, noting carefully the cameras' whereabouts.
It could be so simple to burn it down, he finds himself wishfully thinking.
Tozawa Anri's apartment airy. The few pieces of furniture are scattered as if to fill up the place randomly. Midoriya removes his shoes, one hand on the wall so he maintains his equilibrium. Tozawa leaps out of her boots like a jack-in-the-box, peals of giggles escaping her cherry-coloured lips.
"You never told me your name."
"It's Mido… Midozaki Jun."
"Jun it is then!"
She flops on the couch, the numerous pillows shuddering beside her. She pats the empty space next to her, her sincere smile as beckoning as the gesture.
"Come sit next to me."
Midoriya doesn't sense any treachery from her but he's still cautious when he threads her way. Her legs are swinging back and forth in a childish manner, fingers thrumming against a pillow. Midoriya sits on the very edge of the couch, as far as he can for her, but as soon as he's settled Tozawa reaches for him, arms embracing him. She isn't comforting him like before, more like she's caging him.
"Say, Jun, the expression you're making right now is familiar."
Midoriya finds it hard to swallow as if Tozawa's hands are clamped around his neck instead of around his forearms. She clings to him not like a sister holds his brother with affection but like a mermaid seeking to drag him out in the ocean's depths.
"I've seen it many times on the face of a contractor about to betray me."
He tenses but Tozawa's fingers curl around even more, nails like needles driving into his skin. He tests her strength, squirming a little, and winces as it feels like he's stuck in iron.
"I assure you—"
"Be careful with your next words."
"I assure you," Midoriya repeats, "that I have no intention of betraying you. Betraying means you know a person close to you is breaking you trust and as far as I'm aware, we're neither far nor loyal to each other."
"I see I've brought a stray dictionary home," she laughs, disentangling herself, drawing her arms sagely by her sides and smiling innocently. "Then if you're not betraying me, pray tell what are you planning to do?"
He can't say he's about to kill her, can he? Yet as he opens his mouth the words spill out.
"I'm planning to kill you."
He expects her to recoil, to have her features distort with horror or at least disbelief, for her to tense. When someone announces he's planning to kill the other, surely a sane reaction wouldn't be to laugh out loud, clutching ribs and wiping teary eyes.
"What are you talking about? You, kill me?"
Midoriya flushes, retorting, "You don't think I'm able of killing?"
"I've seen the face of many killers, so much that I'm able to pinpoint characteristics. Yours doesn't have any of them. If even, you look like you're about to be sick," she snickers.
She's wrong. He's already sick.
Sick of everything.
Before she can react, Midoriya takes out the scissors from his pocket, driving the sharp edge in her thigh. He draws it out as soon as it pierced her skin, drops of blood pearling on the blades. Tozawa's shrieking, rising from the couch and limping away from him.
But Midoriya isn't looking at her. He's transfixed by the bloodied scissors in his hands.
"You bastard," she growls under her breath. "I will—"
She stops when she meets Midoriya's eyes. "And now, what expression am I wearing, Anri-san?"
She's not answering, much to his annoyance, but he does enjoy the shock etched on her face.
Before she can flee, his hands close around her neck. The skin beneath his fingers is soft, malleable, crinkling as he applies more pressure. He feels her pulse racing under his palm, exactly like Tomura told him. It reminds him of horse hooves thundering in the wild, a blond mane floating around the head, eyes locked on a faraway point. It's beating so fast, so close, that he has the impression he's holding her heart in his hands.
"You didn't answer me, Anri-san," he murmurs, breathless. "What's my expression?"
Her tiny hands are scratching at him, legs kicking, but Midoriya doesn't feel a thing. He's been pummelled by harsher blows in the past, whether from bullies laughing at him or from Tsukauchi's rough training. Her punches may leave marks but it's nothing makeup can't hide. Where did her strength go? Is she even realising Midoriya will kill her even if she keeps on resisting so little?
Her Quirk may be formidable but she isn't much when it comes down to her personal strength.
"Aren't you wondering why I'm so intent on killing you when I don't even know you? Doesn't it frustrate you not to know a thing about me, the man who'll take your life?"
Tozawa splutters what seems like the beginning of a negative answer but Midoriya's hands are merciless. She's wheezing and now her tears aren't from laughter but from distress.
"You don't know me, Anri-san, but I know you. You are guilty."
He sees her coming before he feels the pain in his left arm. She's grabbing the scissors lying beside them, digging it in his upperarm. He yells as the scissors cut through his arm, blood seeping on his hoodie and dyeing Tozawa's fur coat scarlet.
"That… wasn't nice… you know?" Midoriya gasps.
He read about strangling. He already knew what it was beforehand: it consists of blocking one's airway or interfering with the flow of blood in the neck, or a combination of the two. When he read it, he winced and even touched his own neck in self-consciousness. He crossed the idea of strangling someone to death because it seemed burdensome.
He didn't know it could be so intoxicating.
"Do you know… what expression you're making… Anri-san?" The woman beneath her is silent, so he leans forward, whispering, "It's terror."
The hand holding the scissors falls limp. Her struggling seizes gradually, hands stilling around his. Her breathing erratic dying out as if someone turned down its sound. Her lips are parted yet she remains silent.
Midoriya stumbles on the side, panting. The scissors are planted just above his elbow, crimson rivulets streaming down his arm and following his fingers' shape. It ripped open his hoodie's sleeve, now showing a gaping hole where his upperarm stands. It's a shame because it was his last hoodie; the other one that was adorned with All Might's colours was crumbled to ashes by Tomura.
There's too much blood — too much of his blood as proof on the floor. He should burn the apartment block in the end, to ensure no one can retrace him. On the other hand, he has to put his mark somewhere, to tell the world Tozawa Anri is guilty, and he doubts he can control the fire's spreading like Dabi.
So what choice do I have left?
The best advice I can give you, kozo, is to let go.
Midoriya ruffles his hair, letting out a nervous laugh as he walks away from the corpse. "I guess I'll make some hot cocoa. You invited me here for this, right?"
Tozawa Anri can't answer.
Midoriya finds half of a milk carton in the refrigerator, enough to fill up a cup. He's saddened to realise there's no real chocolate ready to be melt, simply a cheap mixture.
Ah well, there's nothing stopping me from burning it down then.
Setting a house afire is surprisingly easy. The smoke engulfing Tozawa Anri's apartment activates the detectors and soon, Midoriya's barging out of the apartment building along with its inhabitants. No one sees the dark stains on his hoodie or the white gauze on his upperarm. Everyone's focused on getting out. No one questions him his hurry to distance himself from the column of fire. No one realises he's responsible as he sits down on his park bench, knees jolting, lips twitching, teeth gnawing his knuckles.
This time, there's no one to tell him to put his head between his knees and to hold his hands.
It's alright.
He's not sure he deserves it.
Status: Eliminated