As the first light of dawn gently filled the abandoned classroom with its warm, golden glow, Izuku awoke. The morning's coolness contrasted with the warmth of the person beside him. Kacchan, usually a storm of contained energy and furrows, was unexpectedly serene in sleep. His habitual scowl, softened into vulnerability, offered Izuku a rare glimpse of tranquility.
This newfound peace, stemming from their shared confessions the night before, wrapped Izuku in a comforting serenity he hadn't known since their journey began. With a mix of boldness and caution, he reached out, his fingers grazing Kacchan's spiked hair.
When he pulled back, but paused as his gaze met Kacchan's stare, his eyes free of their usual fire.
"Morning, Kacchan," Izuku whispered, hesitant of what their new dynamic would be in the light of day.
Kacchan's grunted reply, a simple acknowledgment, somehow made Izuku feel more anchored.
Wanting to touch on the previous night's emotional exchange, Izuku began cautiously, only to be interrupted by Kacchan's determined voice. "Don't start doubting now, Deku. We've crossed that bridge." The certainty in his tone mingled with their intertwined fingers solidified their silent promise to each other, sending a jolt of warmth through Izuku.
In a silent room, amidst the comfort of their shared silence, Izuku sought to bridge the gap with a kiss. Kacchan, true to form, halted him with a light but firm hand to his chin, his complaint laced with a playful sternness. "Really, Deku? Morning breath," he chided, his eyes twinkling with hidden amusement.
Their laughter, unburdened and genuine, filled the air as they set about tidying up their makeshift sleeping area. "What should we tell the others?" Izuku pondered aloud, voicing the question that lingered between them.
Kacchan, poised by the door with his inherent forward momentum, casually dismissed the concern. "We don't need to explain shit to anyone."
"But I don't want to hide anything... especially not about us," Izuku confessed, the gravity of their concealed truths pressing heavily upon him. He already carried the burden of Eri as a secret, and he didn't think you could handle another one.
Kacchan paused, the impatience that usually charged his movements giving way to a moment of contemplation. Turning to face Izuku, he reached out, their fingers locking together once more. "We're not hiding, Deku. I just don't see the point in some grand announcement. They'll figure it out," he explained, the telltale flush of his ears betraying his embarrassment.
Izuku, uplifted by Katsuki's acceptance, couldn't resist wrapping his arms around him from behind, guiding them forward in a shared, albeit awkward, shuffle down the hallway. Katsuki's huff of annoyance did little to dampen Izuku's spirits; if anything, it spurred him on.
"Deku, let go. You're gonna make us fall," Katsuki warned, even as he attempted to disentangle himself, resulting in a half-step stumble that neither corrected nor escalated their precarious balance. His protest rang hollow, the underlying acquiescence clear to Izuku.
Holding on tighter, Izuku nudged them forward with a gentle push against Katsuki's back, guiding their staggered steps. "You're not trying to get away from me, are you, Kacchan? You're finally letting your guard down," he said, his voice soft but playful, adding a skip to his step that threw them off balance yet again.
"In your dreams, nerd. I'm just making sure you don't face plant us both with your klutziness," Katsuki retorted with a gruff tone, attempting to adjust their trajectory with a corrective shuffle, his efforts to maintain their composure belied by the slight tilt in their path.
As Izuku's laughter echoed down the hallway at Katsuki's feigned exasperation, he pressed on, gently steering them around a corner with an exaggerated care that only swayed their combined center of gravity. "You know, I think you secretly enjoy these close moments."
Katsuki scoffed, a smile betraying his feigned annoyance as he tried to straighten their course with an assertive step, only to be met by Izuku's persistent leaning. "Enjoy? More like endure. But if it shuts you up for a minute, then fine, keep holding on," he conceded, the admission punctuated by a mutual misstep that had them briefly pin balling against the hallway walls before Izuku's laughter and Katsuki's begrudging chuckles guided them back into a semblance of stability.
As Izuku and Katsuki, still entangled from their shared laughter, navigated the last turn into the communal space, their somewhat graceful stumble drew an immediate pause in the ongoing conversations. The curious and amused glances from their friends marked their entry, a silent acknowledgment of their changed dynamic. Recovering with a quick step to prevent a full tumble, Izuku steadied them both, their momentary lapse a subject of light-hearted scrutiny.
Chieko, ever perceptive, greeted them with a grin. "Making an entrance, I see?" Her voice, laced with amusement and warmth, acknowledged the shift in their relationship more eloquently than words could. Her gaze, knowing and supportive, met Izuku's, reinforcing the bond of their improvised family.
Izuku, responding to the teasing with a shy smile, felt a buoyant sense of belonging. He carefully disentangled from Katsuki, moving towards the day's routine with a lighter step, his heart warmed by the acceptance and unspoken congratulations filling the room.
Katsuki followed, his expression a mix of resignation and mild irritation, the latter fading at the corners as he caught Izuku's eye, a silent truce forming between them amidst their new reality.
The opportunity for teasing was too good for Denki to pass up. "So, is it official?" His question, thrown into the mix with a cheeky grin, shifted the atmosphere, weaving a stronger thread of camaraderie and mutual support among them.
Before the conversation could spiral, Shinso's calm voice interjected, grounding them with his sincerity. "Congratulations, you two," he said, his smile genuine, a rare display of emotion that spoke volumes of his support. "It's about time."
Shinso's calm congratulations seemed to open the floodgates of their group's varied reactions, none of which, to Izuku's relief, held genuine surprise. Hatsume momentarily paused her tinkering to give them an approving thumbs up, her gesture succinct but meaningful. Meanwhile, Izuku watched as his mom accepted a cup of tea from Chieko, her soft, knowing smile filled with unspoken understanding and support.
Izuku, feeling a surge of gratitude for their acceptance, took a seat next to Katsuki. Their shoulders brushed subtly, a silent testament to their unity.
The breakfast table buzzed with the day's anticipation, light-hearted banter weaving through their conversations. Denki, ever the catalyst for cheer, chimed in with a gleam in his eye, "We should totally throw a party for the new couple!" His suggestion sparked a wave of laughter, though Katsuki's pragmatic reminder quickly tempered it. "We've got a mission today, Sparky. No time for your nonsense."
Shinso, leaning back with a bemused expression, added, "Besides, do you really think a party is what they need right now?" His rhetorical question drew a chorus of agreement, underscoring the group's understanding of the challenges ahead.
The dejection on Denki's face was clear, but before it could settle, Chieko, ever the mediator, chimed in with a compromise. "We can always celebrate later when there's time. No rush, right?" Her words seemed to lighten the mood, even as Katsuki made a show of his displeasure.
"We don't need to make a big deal out of it," Katsuki grumbled, only for Inko to interject with a gentle wisdom that smoothed the moment's rough edges. "It's not about making a big deal, Katsuki. It's about celebrating your happiness, that's all."
Faced with Inko's reasoning, Katsuki found himself without a counterargument, his acceptance a silent concession to their plans.
As the mood lightened, curiosity turned the conversation towards their shared mission. Hatsume, ever focused on the practicalities, broached the subject of their ongoing search. "Any updates on the missing girl?" she asked, her voice cutting through the camaraderie with a reminder of their larger concerns.
Katsuki's response was sobering, grounding their fleeting levity. "No luck yet. But no news might be good news if it means the villains haven't found her either," he stated, his tone serious, reflecting the gravity of their task.
Izuku felt a twinge of guilt at the mention, a heavyweight settling in his chest as he exchanged a glance with Chieko. Her expression remained impassive, a practiced mask that hid the burden of their secret well.
Hatsume's interest piqued as she leaned across the table towards Izuku, her gadgets momentarily forgotten. "How have those bees I lent you been working out? Seen any results on your missions?" Her enthusiasm for her inventions was evident, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Izuku shuffled uncomfortably, aware of Katsuki's intense gaze on him, though he carefully avoided meeting it. "Oh, those? They've been... helpful," he said, his voice light but tinged with an undercurrent of evasion. "Just still figuring out the best way to use them," he added, hoping his vague response would suffice.
It's not like he could tell her that Eri was having a blast using the bees to navigate the school form the comfort of her safe heaven.
Katsuki, silent but observant, watched the exchange with a narrowed gaze, his suspicion clear despite his quietude. His scrutiny felt like a tangible pressure on Izuku, who felt compelled to keep his explanations as non-committal as possible.
Hatsume, undeterred by Izuku's ambiguity, nodded enthusiastically. "If you want, I can tweak them a bit—optimize their surveillance capabilities or increase their range. Just let me know what you need!"
Izuku offered Hatsume a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, feeling the weight of Katsuki's skeptical gaze. "They're actually doing great, Hatsume. Thank you. It's just... figuring out the right strategy that's been the challenge," he elaborated slightly, keen on redirecting the conversation from the bees' specific usage.
Chieko, ever perceptive to the shifting tides of conversation, seized an opportunity to shift the focus. Turning to Shinso with a casual ease, she interjected, "Hey, Shinso, do you mind if I join your training session later? Could really use the extra practice."
Shinso, who had been quietly following the exchange, nodded in agreement. "Of course, we can go after breakfast," he responded warmly, unknowingly providing the diversion Izuku needed.
"I've got some errands to run first, so I'll be you there afterward," Chieko added, casting a glance at Izuku. The term 'errands' was their covert signal for her planned visit to check on Eri and take her breakfast.
Izuku, feeling Katsuki's unresolved curiosity like a tangible weight, released a soft sigh, mixed with relief and a hint of resignation. He knew it was only a matter of time before Katsuki pieced things together, pushing Izuku to make a mental note to talk with Chieko about including Katsuki sooner rather than later. The secret they kept was becoming too heavy a burden to carry alone, and Katsuki's involvement seemed inevitable.
As they finished their breakfast, the casual chatter of the morning gave way to a more focused atmosphere, their attention shifting towards the day's looming mission.
Shinso, ever calm, offered them a supportive nod. "Good luck out there," he said, his voice steady, underscoring the gravity of their task without stirring anxiety.
Inko, embodying the worry that perhaps they all felt but chose not to voice, looked over at them with a tender concern. "Please, be careful," she urged, her maternal instincts painted across her features.
As Inko's gentle words of caution filled the room, Izuku noticed Katsuki stepping forward. The usual bravado that Katsuki carried like armor seemed to melt away in Inko's presence. "We'll be fine, Auntie. We'll be back in one piece," Katsuki promised, his voice softer, stripped of its usual defiance. Inko reached up, her hand brushing against Katsuki's cheek in a tender gesture that was quietly accepted. There was no flinch, no sarcastic retort, just a silent acknowledgment of the comfort her touch provided.
Izuku watched, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he observed this rare vulnerability in Katsuki. He knew the loss Katsuki carried, the weight of a guilt he carried deep down. Katsuki's parents, a topic shrouded in unspoken sorrow, remained a painful chapter that Katsuki rarely opened. Yet, in these moments with Inko, Katsuki allowed a glimpse of the solace he found in her maternal presence—a contrast to the fierceness with which he usually guarded his emotions.
As the day wore on, Izuku found himself alongside Shoto, navigating the sprawling landscape that had once been familiar streets and neighborhoods. They carefully measured each step, navigating the sprawling landscape that had once been familiar streets and neighborhoods, despite Izuku's gnawing knowledge that their primary mission—to find Eri—would yield no results. The pretense of their search, necessary yet fruitless, weighed on him.
In the dim light of the fading day, Izuku and Shoto made their way through the last section of their designated area, eyes sharp for any signs that might lead them closer to Chisaki or Dabi. Each corner turned, and every shadow inspected ended in the same result—nothing. The frustration was palpable, a silent agreement between them acknowledging the futility of their search. Izuku, however, carried an additional weight, the secret of Eri's safety pressing against his conscience like a physical burden.
"We should regroup with Katsuki and the others," Shoto suggested, his voice cutting through Izuku's tangled thoughts. The proposal was logical, a tactical decision to merge their efforts and reassess their strategy, but it also gave Izuku the excuse to check on Kacchan.
As Izuku and Shoto made their way towards the rendezvous point, the dilapidated cityscape around them served as a stark reminder of the world's current state. Izuku's heart raced, not just from the exertion but from the blend of anticipation and worry that had taken root in his chest. He'd have to accept this new level of worry for the blonde now that they had established their feelings.
They found Katsuki and Ochako on one of the city's few remaining intact rooftops, scanning the horizon with practiced eyes. The sight of Katsuki, safe and focused, eased a part of Izuku's anxiety, allowing him to breathe a little easier. As they joined their companions, the silence of the city enveloped them, the quiet a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling within each of them.
"We've covered our area twice. No signs of the girl or any new leads," Shoto reported, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. The mission's lack of progress weighed heavily on them all, a silent enemy as daunting as any villain.
Katsuki's gaze flicked to Izuku, a silent question passing between them before he nodded in agreement. "Same on our end."
The group settled into a contemplative silence, the reality of their situation settling heavily on their shoulders. Questions of what to do next hung in the air, unspoken but pressing. The option to continue their search offered little hope given their current lack of leads, yet the thought of returning empty-handed was equally disheartening.
Before they could reach a decision, Denki's voice crackled through their comms, his usual upbeat tone tinged with urgency. "Guys, I think you should come here quick."
The sudden interruption jolted them into action. Any indecision swept away by the potential of new information. "Where are you, Denki?" Izuku asked, already moving towards the edge of the rooftop, ready to leap into action.
"I'm near the last checkpoint. I don't think they've spotted me yet, but I'm staying above ground to stay out of sight," Denki responded, the sound of his rapid footsteps audible even through the comm.
The urgency in his tone had them quickening their pace, converging on the location Denki had specified. As they drew closer, Izuku's heart thumped louder, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling within him.
Izuku saw Denki first, crouched over the rooftop edge, his finger to his lip as he motioned down below him.
Izuku's eyes locked onto the distinctive figure of Dabi, his dark silhouette stark against the dim backdrop of the alley, the flicker of blue flames momentarily illuminating his path with two men flanked on either side of him.
The moment shifted from anticipation to action in an instant.
Before they could come up with a plan, Shoto took off after Dabi before he could get too far away. His decision was swift, a flash of determination as he bounded across the rooftop, ready to confront his brother. "I'm going after Dabi. Notify Aizawa-sensei," he called out, his voice a mix of resolve and challenge.
Izuku barely caught his breath, split between rushing in and playing it safe. He knew diving straight into a confrontation with Dabi was risky, but Shoto was already on the move.
"Kacchan, Ochako, we've got to back him up, but let's be cautious," Izuku said, urgency underpinning his words. Quick fingers on his comm, he relayed their situation to Aizawa. "Aizawa, Shoto's gone after Dabi. We're following him now."
"That idiot. Get him out of there, the first opening you find. One of you stays behind to wait for backup." Aizawa replied.
With a shared glance at Katsuki and Ochako, who had no intention of being left behind, they started off. Izuku's heart pounded not just with the adrenaline of the chase, but with the weight of the threat they were about to enter.
"This is nuts, but I'll catch up soon with reinforcements." Denki sighed through the comms.
As Izuku, Kacchan, and Ochako finally caught up, they found Shoto already confronting Dabi, the tension between the brothers palpable even from a distance. Shoto's voice was steady, tinged with a mix of anger and an almost pleading undertone. "Why? Our siblings, our mother—they did nothing to you. Why drag them into your vendetta against our father?"
Dabi's reply, a cold dismissal, was a stark reminder of the chasm between them. "Hatred is indiscriminate, brother. And my disdain wasn't only for our father. Your turn will come."
Izuku felt a chill at Dabi's words, their implication a stark contrast to any semblance of a brotherly bond. Signaling to Katsuki and Ochako to stay back, he advanced, stepping into the volatile standoff, his presence a challenge to Dabi's malice.
Dabi's eyes locked onto Izuku, a smirk twisting his features. "Ah, the heir of All Might. What did you think of All Might's curtain call? Heartbreaking, wasn't it?" The venom in his tone, the casual cruelty, stoked a fire within Izuku, a thick mix of sorrow and anger for the fallen hero.
As Dabi's words sliced through the air, Izuku's mind reeled back to that day—the day light dimmed in their world, the day All Might fell. His fists tightened, the visceral memory of loss igniting a smoldering rage within. Dabi's chilling laugh, empty of any genuine humor, echoed hauntingly, amplifying the sting of betrayal.
"But, you know," Dabi continued, his voice a blade aimed at Izuku's heart, "I haven't told the big boss that you're here. Wouldn't be in your favor for him to get involved, would it?" Dabi taunted, his words a barbed hook aimed to unsettle.
In that heartbeat, Dabi lunged at Shoto. Yet, his instincts, normally sharp and ready, faltered under the weight of the voices clamoring for dominance in his head. Among them, All Might's voice resonated with a dire urgency, its familiar tone now a source of distraction. "Midoriya! All for One must not find you!"
The voices, a cacophony of warnings and whispers, seemed to entangle Izuku's thoughts, slowing his reactions just as a sharp, jarring pain erupted in his head, a clear signal of impending danger. Instinct took over; he ducked reflexively, narrowly avoiding a metal post that sailed through the air, missing him by mere inches.
Cornered, with the cold concrete wall pressing against his back, Izuku barely had time to register the smirking figure before him. A henchman, his hand slicing through the air, unleashed by a ferocious gust of wind. The debris it carried stung Izuku's face, blurring his vision with dust and grit, disorienting him further.
Caught in his internal struggle, Izuku barely registered the wind henchman's taunt, his voice cutting through the turmoil with a sneer. "Having trouble keeping up, kid?" His mockery, edged with cruelty, seemed almost casual as he gestured, summoning another gust that sent Izuku stumbling.
The metal manipulator joined in, his laughter cold as he observed Izuku's disoriented attempts to defend. "Looks like the little hero's lost his step. What's wrong? Can't handle a little pressure?" he mocked, the metal at his command swirling threateningly around him.
Panic set in as the voices in his head crescendoed, their warnings meshing into a relentless torrent of noise that threatened to overwhelm him. It felt as if the very essence of his mind was under siege, the voices of his predecessors, including All Might, merging into a storm of advice and caution that left him paralyzed.
But through the turmoil, a distinct voice pierced the confusion—a voice laced with irritation yet unmistakably laden with concern. Katsuki's command broke through the internal chaos, its clarity momentarily slicing through the fog of voices. "Stop stumbling around like an idiot and focus, Deku! We need to save the other idiot!"
That single moment of clarity was all Izuku needed. Katsuki's call to action momentarily silenced the voices, allowing Izuku to regain a semblance of focus. His friends needed him; he couldn't afford to be lost in his head now.
As Izuku refocused, the wind henchman unleashed another powerful attack, only to be met by Katsuki's fierce retaliation. "Ha! Your gusts are a joke. Windbag's sneeze packs more punch than your strongest breeze!" he taunted, his explosive power turning the air into a tumultuous sea of flames and debris. The mockery in Katsuki's voice, a direct jab at their opponent, reverberated with the same ferocity as his quirk.
The wind henchman, his face twisted in fury at Katsuki's taunt, shot back with a growl, "Let's see you laugh after this!" He unleashed a series of wind blasts with increased ferocity, aiming directly at Katsuki. But Katsuki, unfazed, met each attack with his own explosions, his smirks visible even through the ensuing chaos, a daring challenge amid battle.
"Really? This is your big move? I've met kids who put up a better fight!" Katsuki jeered, his voice cutting through the noise, his explosions intensifying, each blast a testament to his unwavering defiance. The henchman, now visibly shaking with rage, struggled to maintain his offensive, the force of Katsuki's quirk pushing back against his wind with overwhelming might.
In the thick of this exchange, Ochako seized the moment. With the area now obscured by the smoke and debris from Katsuki's quirk, she moved with purposeful stealth. The magnetic henchman, focused on the aerial duel, was caught off guard as Ochako closed in. Her steps, light and calculated, betrayed none of her intent until it was too late.
As she reached him, her hand found its target on his back, a brief touch activating her quirk. The sudden weightlessness caught the henchman by surprise, his eyes widening in disbelief as he floated helplessly.
Ochako's voice, confident and clear, broke through the turmoil. "Not so steady now, are you?"
Without missing a beat, she followed up with a jump kick, propelling the disoriented henchman backward. He flailed, surprised by the sudden shift in gravity, then desperately used his own quirk to anchor himself down, the metal in his clothes clanging as it responded to his command.
"Bet you didn't see that coming," she taunted, stance ready and eyes alight with an unyielding spirit. The smirk on her face, the poise in her stance, Ochako was a force to be reckoned with, her actions on the field a testament to her growth.
The henchman, regaining some control, snarled back as he stabilized himself with metal attached to his clothes, "Clever trick, but you're out of your depth sweet cheeks" With a swift motion, he manipulated the metal debris to form a barrage of sharp projectiles aimed directly at Ochako.
Quick on her feet, Ochako dodged backward, executing a series of agile flips that took her out of the trajectory of the sharp metal projectiles. Each piece embedded itself into the ground with a thud, precisely where she had been moments before.
She then used her quirk to lift a large piece of debris, creating a makeshift shield to block the remaining metal shards. With a fluid movement, she propelled herself upwards, using a piece of debris as a stepping stone to gain higher ground.
From her elevated position, she surveyed the battlefield, ready for her next move. "You'll have to do better than that to catch me off guard!" she called out, her determination shining through as she prepared to counter the next attack, showcasing her newfound agility and tactical awareness.
Regaining his footing amidst the chaos, Izuku spared a moment to glance back at his friends, their coordination against the henchmen providing the perfect diversion. "I'm going after Shoto and Dabi!" he called out over his shoulder, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and determination. "Cover me!"
Without waiting for a response, he propelled himself forward, using his quirk to close the distance rapidly. His focus was laser-sharp, all previous distractions pushed aside by the urgency of the situation.
From behind, Katsuki's voice cut through the noise, edged with a typical blend of irritation and support. "Don't get yourself killed, Deku! Or I'll kill you myself!" His words, though gruff, carried an underlying concern, a testament to the depth of their bond.
Izuku, heartened by Katsuki's reluctant encouragement, nodded even though he knew Katsuki couldn't see it. He felt a surge of determination, bolstered by the trust and teamwork that had become the foundation of their group. With each step, he felt more certain of his path, driven by the need to protect and by the strength of the connections that bound them together.
As Izuku dashed into the fray, the clash of ice and fire before him painted a stark portrait of struggle—Shoto, valiant but faltering under the onslaught of Dabi's relentless flames. "You're outmatched, little brother!" Dabi jeered, his blue flames roaring with each word, a visual taunt that matched the venom in his voice.
Shoto gritted his teeth as his quirk faltered under the strain. Izuku, without hesitation, intervened with his Black Whip Quirk, seizing Dabi around the middle and slinging him back with a force that interrupted the brothers' intense showdown.
Dabi crashed onto the ground, then quickly righted himself, his glare fixated on Izuku, who had landed and crouched atop a nearby car. "Stay out of family business," Dabi spat out, his voice dripping with sarcasm yet underlined with palpable anger.
In the heat of their confrontation, as fire clashed with ice, Izuku moved fluidly, assisting Shoto against Dabi's relentless assault. With precise timing, he intervened, dragging Shoto back from a burst of blue flame, then launching forward to disrupt Dabi's focus, their actions a high-stakes dance on the battlefield.
During a brief lull, as Dabi deflected an icicle with a flicker of flame, Izuku seized the moment to shout his question. "Why Eri? What's she to you?"
As Dabi prepared his counterattack, a flame darting dangerously close, Shoto wasn't idle. He launched a rapid series of ice attacks, each one more aggressive than the last, trying to push Dabi back and give Izuku an opening. "Eri, is that her name?" Dabi mused, barely deflecting Shoto's relentless assault with a wave of heat that turned ice into steam.
"She's just bait to reel in bigger fish. Chisaki's the one we're after."
The moment Izuku tried to process Dabi's indifference towards Eri, Dabi's next surge of flames sent him staggering back. From the corner of his eye, Izuku saw Shoto, his expression a mix of determination and frustration, creating a barrier of ice to shield them both from the worst of the heat.
"You? All Might's successor?" Dabi's mocking barely reached their ears, lost in the roar of the flames. "If this is the best you can do, All For One's got nothing to worry about."
Izuku, fueled by a mix of anger and resolve, refused to let Dabi's words weaken him. Pushing off the ground, he rejoined the fray beside Shoto, who shot him a quick, concerned glance before unleashing another wave of ice.
This one aimed to encase Dabi's feet and slow him down, but it quickly melted after being created.
"Is it All For One who wants Chisaki? Why?" Izuku demanded, catching his breath as he and Shoto stood side by side, prepared for Dabi's retaliation.
Dabi, now facing the combined force of their quirks, laughed mockingly, parrying Shoto's ice with precise, controlled bursts of fire. "Always the why with you heroes," he taunted, his gaze flickering between the two. "Let's just say orders are orders. Chisaki's got something we want."
The sudden arrival of Denki and Katsuki unexpectedly cut their battle short, appearing on the edge of the rooftop. They had driven Dabi's henchmen back to him, the duo now flanking their leader with visible signs of their skirmish.
Katsuki's expression was tight with urgency as he held Ochako in his arms, her conscious gaze meeting Izuku's with a mix of pain and determination. Blood stained her side vivid as it soaked her clothes, her hand pressing against the wound to stem the flow. "Deku, we're pulling out. Aizawa's orders," Katsuki's voice commanded, a hard edge of concern slicing through his typically authoritative tone.
Shoto, upon hearing Katsuki's directive, hesitated, his elemental assault momentarily faltering. "But we can't just—"
Izuku, with quick determination, wrapped his arm around Shoto's waist and lifted him, cutting through his protest with swift action. "It's not our call, Shoto. We'll come back better prepared," he said, offering a look that mixed regret with unwavering resolve.
As he turned to retreat, Dabi seized the opportunity, unleashing a ferocious barrage of flames towards them. Izuku felt the heat graze his back, a perilous reminder of their narrow escape.
Denki's intervention was timely, his voice crackling with electricity as he taunted, "You guys should wear less metal," before releasing a stunning electrical discharge that illuminated the night, providing the necessary distraction for their retreat.
With Dabi and his henchmen temporarily stalled, Izuku and Shoto made their strategic withdrawal under the cover of Denki's sparking diversion. Dabi's cryptic responses painted a murky picture of the enemy's plans. Yet, the immediate concern was the safety of his team, especially with Ochako injured.
Aizawa's voice crackled through Izuku's com, a steady beacon amidst the chaos. "Backup is holding them off. So get back home!" he ordered, his voice firm yet reassuring.