Trigger Warning:
- mention of sexual assault
- violation of every code in the lab manual
The door closes.
And with it, my last chance to convince Shouto to stay.
He won't even realize all the other avenues that he has opened, too.
Today Shouto gave me the most chilling news I could have not ever conjured in my nightmares. The heroes are going to attack. Instead of waiting for the villains to strike first, they have decided to make the first move.
How could I have not noticed? Spy for the Paranormal Liberation Army, and right under my nose the heroes colluded to bring down the villains for good. How long were they planning this? I had hoped that the Hanada murders would have been enough to distract the heroes long enough until the Army was ready. Then the sexual assault attempts should have kept the teachers busy with the expulsion process. Finally, the upcoming court trials were supposed to rattle the hero industry to its core. I underestimated the heroes. All my efforts were for naught. Despite living under their roof, I failed to learn their plans.
Shame on me. For what I did and for what I will do.
Because in a few hours a war will begin. The bloodiest yet. Like wolves we will attack until the other is annihilated. And I will fight on the side of the villains. It means my classmates will be the enemy instead of the ally. It means I must confront Shouto on the opposite end of the battlefield.
True, I had never considered the students of Class 1-A to be an ally. I had hardly spoken to them, let alone befriend them. All in respect to my fear of someone inadvertently learning about the abuse and my allegiance with the League of Villains. Perhaps it is truly disgusting of me to isolate only one student out of the lot because of what that person means to me. I'm despicable. I know it. And after what I am about to do, there will be no redemption for me.
So I swallow long and hard, furiously wipe my tears. Thrust all emotions into a mental box with a lock. I sneak out of Shouto's room and go into mine. The luxury of time is nonexistent right now. I have to hurry and warn my comrades of what is coming. If it means sacrificing the entirety of my morning routine, so be it. Part of me marvels at the speed at which I divest myself of the nightgown and wear my hero costume. Maybe the psychologists are right: stress can improve efficiency.
Villa or hospital? Villa or hospital? Who should I warn first? Forgoing the flowers and chignon, I tie my hair up. Having long hair exposed is going to pose an issue, but that's something I'll just have to figure out later. There are more pressing matters right now. Shigaraki and Daruma-san are at the hospital. The centerpiece of the Army's scheme is Shigaraki, and he's still inside the tank. Only Daruma-san can ensure his safety. Bloody saints of hell and their disciples! Couldn't the heroes have waited another two weeks before launching their ambush? But since Shigaraki has been comatose, I've been taking orders from Yotsubashi-san. He's at the villa. So is the rest of the League and Army.
A blow to either area is fatal to our organization. The heroes are charging for both. I find myself almost laughing at my situation. I have boundless power, but I can only choose one to save. Oh, the irony! By the time I don my mask and watch, I have already weighed the advantages and disadvantages of going to either party.
All that is remaining are three weapons. The cane with a concealed katana. The knives laced with golden viper venom. And the inhaler that amplifies my abilities exponentially for a short time. The aftereffects are utter hell. This is war, though. The price for usefulness must be paid. Without waiting a moment more to steel my resolve, I inhale every last bit of material in it.
And with it, I have made my decision.
The Army has no shortage of money. The leader is the CEO of the Detnerat Company. The renowned doctor and scientist of Jaku Hospital also provides a substantial donation every month. My summoned jewels bring in extra income.
The Gunga Mountain Villa has everything a rich girl like me could want. Jacuzzi bubble baths, temperature controlled mattresses, and an assortment of cakes. With my catlike personality, I see the place as my kingdom. Luxury all around; I am the queen, everyone else is my butler. So one question remains.
Why the bloody hell did the builders not install moving sidewalks?!
Look, part of me understands. Most people are blessed to have two perfectly fine legs capable of walking, running, jumping, and other activities that require decent lower body movement. Good for them. They're lucky to be able to take that for granted. But what about me? Seriously, designers could give more consideration to the disabled. It took decades for public structures to build ramps for wheelchair users. Would have been nice if legislators mandated the inclusion of travelators, too.
And sure, the villa is a private structure, but the principle still stands. At least, I would not have to look like a snake that suddenly grew legs and was told to sprint the marathon. Now the obvious question must arise: Selene, why are you not just teleporting yourself around?
Good question. The answer is that my body is still recuperating from the incident at the manor a few nights ago. I managed to teleport myself to the villa at the generous cost of a vigorous cough fit. Not to mention, the aerosol drug within the inhaler takes its sweet time activating. If the last war was anything to go by, there are still a good fifty minutes until the power surge arrives. So I would like to use my powers sparingly until then.
Observing my predicament, another question pops into mind: Where is everyone? Also another excellent question. I am wondering the same thing, too.
Finally, I see the first sign of life. A woman with a human head yet the wings and legs of an eagle snacking on what looks like roasted rabbit. She spots me. I must look positively ridiculous, given the way she stares at me wide-eyed, half of the rabbit still protruding from her mouth.
Sorry, madam. But I have no time to explain. I summon two pods of beeswax and throw them at her. "Take me to Re-Destro! And put these in your ears!"
The woman - a siren, I realize, as an afterthought - sputters on her snack. "What? Who are you? Why do you look like you're dying?"
Oh, I don't know! Maybe because the cripple is literally running to save everyone's sorry bottoms! Her inane queries irritate me to no end, but I have enough decency not to express them. So instead, when I reach her, I retrieve the pods from the ground, personally shove them into her ears, and hoist myself on her back. After much tantrum from the siren, I finally find a comfortable piggyback position.
Then I lean close to her ear, pry one pod out, and whisper, "Heroes are coming. Either obey my commands and give your comrades a fighting chance, or waste your time resisting me." She stills, suddenly alert. With her eyes, she demands to know if what I am saying is true. I nod. "Your wings are attached along the length of your arms. Fly me to Re-Destro." Back in the pod goes, with more force than necessary.
The siren extends her arms, revealing the full expanse of her eagle wings. Under different circumstances, I might have taken to admire the quantity and sheen of feathers. After tending to the gash that just opened on my right quadriceps, of course. I might also revel in the second irony of the day. The siren plugs her ears with beeswax. Odysseus must be having a grand time watching from above. Now, I only care about the speed. She might unnecessarily dilly-dally, but when urgency arises, she is capable of getting the job done. We whip around the corridors of the building at unprecedented velocities. I have to be careful about unlocking my wrists around her neck and sitting upright. Balance is compensated for by squeezing her waist tighter with my legs. She groans. I apologize.
A group of soldiers appears after a bend. Sorry in advance for what I am about to do to you, too. Conjuring my best impression of Present Mic-sensei's voice, I holler, "HEROES ON THE WAY! PREPARE FOR BATTLE!" I swear every head turns my way. After repeating the warning, I demand, "WHERE IS RE-DESTRO!" Everyone but the siren cowers and covers their ears. One of them points toward the right corridor.
More people gather. I shout again and again until my throat hurts. Then I shout some more. Here's the third source of irony. The one quirk user who chilled me to the bone at parties, made me run away into the forest, triggered my agoraphobia … that user's quirk is the same one I am using now to save my fellow villains. Ah, my day is beginning absolutely splendidly. Nothing like ominous earthquake-inducing noises to start the morning. Roosters have nothing in comparison.
Just when I think I will lose my voice completely, we crash into Re-Destro. That is right. At the panic-fueled speed we are going, the siren loses control and lands very ungracefully on top of Yotsubashi-san. I don't blame her for it, however. She ultimately got me there. Rolling off her, I rasp out, "Thank you. Go fight for your rabbit jerky. Tartarus doesn't give luxuries like that to prisoners." The siren cannot fly away any faster. Meanwhile, I help Yotsubashi-san back into his wheelchair. His expression is grave, stress marks darkening his face.
"How soon?" he asks.
I calculate the time between Shouto departing and myself arriving. Amounting the time it will take for briefing and travelling … "One hour maximum."
"How did you find out?"
"Just be grateful that I did." I evade the question with one of my own. "Since January, the heroes have been gathering forces. They have intel about the villa and the hospital. Who do you suspect was the traitor?"
Suddenly, Skeptic rounds the corner. I have never seen the man scurry like a rat before. He frantically punches numbers and letters into his laptop, which is all the cue Yotsubashi-san and I need to realize that he has learned of our dire predicament, too. "I sent an emergency alert to everyone's phones. All the advisors know. Everyone's getting ready."
A coil of tension that had unconsciously been knotting itself in my chest loosens. I sigh in relief. At least one critical issue has been resolved.
"What should I do?" I ask. "Most of the Army did not know I existed until this point because we kept my identity a secret. I'm a spy."
Skeptic asks, "Who do we have at the hospital?"
But I meet Yotsubashi-san's eyes when I answer, "No one. Daruma-san lacks combat skills, and Shigaraki is in no state to fight."
For a long time, I am met with silence. Finally, Yotsubashi-san is the one to break it.
"Shigaraki Tomura is the face of the Paranormal Liberation Army. Without him, our cause will be trampled to dust. Go to the hospital, Selene. Protect the Doctor. Protect Shigaraki. He is our Grand Commander, and yours too."
Yotsubashi-san should give lessons on how to frame orders in the guise of requests. That last sentence meant: Wake Shigaraki. Obey his will. Because without him, we do not stand a chance.
"We will win this war."
Yotsubashi-san reaches over and pats my back. "Indeed. Because Shigaraki is the king, and you are his right-hand." At his words, my back instinctively straightens. "While all of us work in the light, you operate in the darkness. He was right about you. You are our ace. The one pawn in the game of chess called war capable of turning the tides against the opponent." Then he squeezes my shoulder and drops his voice. "The Grand Commander, myself, the rest of the advisors … even All for One … there is someone the heroes should fear more."
Ice hardens around my spine. I gaze deep into his eyes, determining if what he is saying is just to bolster my confidence or is something he genuinely believes. The conviction tells me it is the latter.
Even better, he quotes, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and the Devil is a woman.
"So no more hiding. No more concealment. Day will become night, and the moon will reign supreme over the sun. On this battlefield, the heroes shall remember who Lucifer Morningstar is."
I make it to the hospital just in time to see that the heroes have launched their assault.
Within five seconds, I note that Shouto's father, Aizawa-sensei, Present Mic-sensei, along with hundreds of other Pro-Heroes are engaged in a battle with tens of noumu. Also, Daruma-san's double melts into a puddle of mud. Why only five seconds? Because I created a warp gate to get here immediately as another cough burst crawled its way up the trachea to my throat. While choking like an asthmatic, I manipulate the lights and shadows around me to camouflage with the hospital settings.
Agh! I hate this so much! Hanada-sama! Miyamoto-san! Agawa-san! Kurosawa-san! Those two other girls whose names elude me at the moment but despise equally! The heroes! Everything! Everyone! And most of all, this body! The amplification has not even begun yet, and already I feel like dying. Miraculously, a yucca plant survives the demolition that both sides are wreaking upon each other. I clutch the sides of its pots and expel the mucous contents of my lungs into its soil. I don't hate the yucca. Rather, I internally apologize to the poor plant.
But just like all the other compromises I made this morning, I do not have the delight of sparing another five seconds to catch my breath. Oh, no, no, no. I have to keep Daruma-san alive. Keep Shigaraki safe. Find a way to make Shigaraki regain consciousness. All the while escaping from the heroes, the debris, and any noumu who might mistake me for the enemy. So much for being the right-hand. I do not receive enough compensation to deal with all of this.
I know what Dabi would tell me, though. In response to my whining, he would say something along the lines of, "Suck it up, peacock. War isn't easy, and if you thought it was, you shouldn't be here."
Somehow, that thought elicits a snort from me. We still do not like each other very much, but I know him enough to realize that in spite of his carefree behavior, he appreciates efficiency. I find enough strength in myself to summon one more portal.
Into Daruma-san's cove of monsters.
First, I am greeted by a horde of noumus rushing toward the exit. No. Not here. Second, corridors upon corridors of noumu inside tanks. Also not here. Third, the bathroom. Before anyone says a word, I am not a pervert! In my defense, aged men must go to the bathroom frequently because of urinary incontinence. Because of weak bladders or fright. Lucky for him - and myself, I guess, because it would be a very awkward meeting - he is not there, either.
This time, I do not wait for the coughs to settle before warping myself again. I try all sorts of places. His office even. No success. Just when I start to believe that Daruma-san is trapped in the debris somewhere, I hear footsteps. Hurried, loud, frantic. The pace of someone who has not done much physical movement in a while. Following the sounds, I jump through space and time to locate its owner. Indeed, it is Daruma-san. He calls out to his pet noumu, Johnny, to transport Shigaraki and himself away from the laboratory.
I am just about to transport myself there when all of a sudden, the side wall crashes inward. Vials shatter on impact. Shards of glass rain upon us.
From the destruction enters a woman. Straight, flowing white hair. Brown skin. Muscular. Long rabbit ears yet a small tuft for a tail. Leotard for a costume. It takes me a moment to recognize her. Pro-Hero Mirko. I fought her automaton lookalike in the forest as part of training. Here is the actual thing. Decimating decades' worth of research. Piling more problems onto my plate.
She grins, seeing Daruma-san's expression of horror. I want to tell him to close his mouth, but that's rich coming from me. My invisibility is the only advantage we have right now, and I'm compromising it by wheezing with my mouth shut. "Are you the real one?" she asks. The utter gall, she doesn't even wait for confirmation before attacking. Instead, Mirko proceeds to kick and smash every science equipment in sight as if the answer does not matter to her. Goodness, that woman is every scientist's nightmare! How many lab regulations is she violating?! Meanwhile, Daruma-san picks up Johnny's mangled corpse. He bids his farewell to the small noumu, and I find myself feeling just a little bad for Daruma-san. With all his life's research being erased in minutes, I can only imagine the level of pain afflicting him. Despite my grudges against him, I respect his intelligence.
So I owe it to him to give him what he wants.
Right now, that is an escape.
Mirko has an ear device of her own. She says, "Guys! I found the old fart and a bunch of tough-looking noumu!" She pauses, listening to what the person on the other end has to comment. "Dunno!" she replies. "But a good kick should tell me!"
Honing my hearing, I decide to eavesdrop on the hero's conversation. Endeavor-san is the one whom Mirko is relaying information to. "Capture him," his gruff tone echoes. "I wish I could say we're right behind you, but it might take us a minute!" All sorts of ruckus permeate from the device, emphasizing his point very nicely.
Good. At least I have some time. Then I curse myself for jinxing my fortune. Of course, the rude rabbit is not going to wait. She just has to hop forward at the speed of a race car toward the Doctor. "You the real one?! Let's find out!" On top of that, she has to be overconfident. Daruma-san's sweet grandpa-face contorts into a cry-baby face. Sweat drips from his bald head, and tears well up within the goggles. He pleads with the hero that he is the real one. "Better give ya a good kick to be sure!"
You know, I liked your robotic counterpart more than you.
A blast of wind covers the distance between myself and her. Her foot touches the Doctor's arm just as I unsheathe a dagger. But out of nowhere, a miniature noumu rams into her stomach. Her aim stumbles. But the damage is done. I turn to protect Daruma-san when I see the same sludge-like matter dripping from the part of his body that bore the brunt of the impact. He was also a double? Mirko kills the noumu with the kick intended for the Doctor.
"A true miracle!" a hoarse voice cries out. I twist toward the source. The real Daruma-san - I hope this one is real - "Using your quirk … without even being told to … and you did it to protect me! Little Mocha, your courage wasn't for nothing."
Cracks appear on the surfaces of the intact tanks. And I understand what it is he plans to do.
He shouts, "Go slaughter those meddlesome heroes! My precious high-ends!"
Not a moment later does a barrage of specially-equipped noumu break through the glass.
One of them facepalms Mirko.
Barely suppressed laughter sits at the back of my throat.
I suppose now is an excellent time to join the revelry.
Note: I have copied some dialogue from one of the English-translated versions of the manga. The links to the chapter are here:
.online/manga/boku-no-hero-academia-chapter-260/
.online/manga/boku-no-hero-academia-chapter-261/