In honor of the last chapter of BNHA releasing today, I hunkered down and finished writing this one. Now that it's concluded I'll get to work on the final draft of the rest of TLH, but there's no telling how long that'll take me. That said, I have a pretty good idea for some things.
I'm not sure about how long I might keep this story going after the end of BNHA. I might decide to end it there too, but I might extend things just a little, so we can flesh out Hitomi and the rest of the class as young adults/Pro Heroes.
Also, this chapter at the end spoils a character twist that (to be fair) happened in season six, so if you haven't gotten to that point yet, be warned.
(Please pardon any spelling errors/typos. For I am so sleepy)
Hero work was gruesome. As glamorous as the media would lead you to believe, almost every Hero had a slew of stories that would send a chill down your spine. Stories that would keep them up at night, reliving them over and over, plagued by trauma that they were pressured into burying, in favor of doing interviews and brand deals.
That was part of the reason Shouta was underground, keeping a low profile despite his efficiency. He didn't want to have to smile at the crowd and pretend to be fine, because the truth was, he hasn't been fine since Oboro died.
But the scene happening right now in front of him, might just be the most horrific thing he'd seen since the collapsed building that took away his friend.
When the Quirk restricting his body seemed to suddenly start to fall away— as if a mountain of weighted blankets began to slide off of him one by one, he wasted no time in pushing himself up a few inches, muscles trembling even from the minor action. But he was ripping his eyes free of the makeshift blindfold in frantic haste upon realizing that there wasn't a ringing in his ears. Someone was screaming.
His body froze halfway sat upright, eyes wide and uncomprehending at what laid before him.
With her hunched body casted in shadow, Saito snarled like an animal, her mouth opened far larger than normal, nearly splitting her face in half with the maw, full of razor sharp teeth that tore into the man under her. Two small pinpricks of white glowed in the shrouding darkness, locked intently on the body she was eviscerating under her.
Moments before, Shouta was being tortured listening to the man choke her, knowing he couldn't do anything to stop it, no matter how desperately he tried to. But then the man had gasped, and shouted in pain, before he heard a beastly growling. What followed was the sound of screams and tearing flesh, and at some point during the violent display Shouta felt the effects of the Villain's Quirk starting to fade away, left counting the seconds until the weight was bearable to finally lift. Only to be met with something no longer quite human.
He froze, staring in absolute shock.
The man called Chrono was hardly recognizable, mauled and torn to pieces with the culprit hovering over him.
She was panting like a rabid dog, blood spilling and drooling from her ivory razor filled mouth. A now slightly elongated back hunched over, with vertebrae sticking out visibly as if forming dull spikes down her spine.
Shouta flinched when she bit into the man again, pulling back and ripping away flesh before she appeared to swallow.
"S—"
Saito's head snapped up, flinging strings of blood from her chin. It was as if she was in the early stages of an Akita transformation before it just stopped, leaving her with orange fur reaching down the sides of her face— the face that almost stretched into a hairless snout. Her arms had white hair reaching from her enlarged and clawed fingers to her elbows. The two of them, as well as her legs, were longer now. Bones and joints jutting out from underneath her flesh, as if her skin remained the same size while her bones grew and shifted.
But the sight that somehow shook him the most, was her eyes. Wide and near soulless, the fuchsia irises darkened closer to a scarlet, while her scleras were now a deep crimson with thin black lines creeping in towards her irises. Two white dots glowed at him in silence, watching like a beast waiting for the perfect time to pounce.
The fur of her ears and tail stood on end, and her jaw hung low, showing off a full set of large gleaming fangs, and four especially massive canines that could likely tear through leather like paper.
She looked like an animal.
Then, her expression twisted into feral rage, and she lunged at him with teeth bared and claws reaching.
Shouta's Quirk flipped on instinctively.
All at once Saito stopped, her face went slack and she slowly dropped down in a hunched sitting position, with her legs bent on either side. The new canine features shrunk away back into her natural shape and size with a disconcerting cracking and popping sounding from her warping skeleton. Her wide glassy eyes blinked, and he watched the red recede and fuchsia start fading back in. She was still covered in gore as the more familiar innocently blank look on her face set in. He wouldn't forget what he just saw, but somehow just her eyes softening back to normal was enough to make him release a breath he had been holding for far too long.
Saito slowly looked around, not seeming to grasp what was going on. When Chrono gave a wet rasp— something that actually relieved Shouta to hear —she turned her head to stare at him, and again showed no sign of recognition. But after the man coughed, she peered around at the room and the bloody mess it was in again, and her tongue visibly rolled around in her stained mouth. It was almost as if he was watching her rouse from anesthesia, head wobbling and eyes constantly drifting.
Shouta sighed through his nose when she finally looked at him again, as consciousness started to come through.
"Hitomi…" He called to her gently, eyes burning, but he didn't dare blink.
When she gave no response, he took a chance and shuffled forward on his knees. He grimaced as he felt cooling blood seep through his pants as he kneeled in the puddle that surrounded her, but he was not deterred. Once in reach he dared to remove his capture weapon that still sat tangled around her neck. He didn't want it to be anywhere near her after what it was just used for. The fabric was sodden with blood, hanging heavy in his hands, and he distantly recalled the USJ incident, when she had come barreling headlong into the fray to save him from the Nomu— only to be nearly killed herself.
Saito stared at the capture weapon, blinking at it as clarity started to seep in.
Shouta almost wished she had stayed in shock, when her eyes started to take it all in, hit with the sight of her slaughter, slowly passing through denial into despair. They welled with horrified tears, and her chest rapidly jerked with panicked breaths
"D-did I— I don't— Mr. Ai-izawa?"
Shouta winced, pursing his lips when she looked to him for some reassurance that this wasn't what she thought it was. All he could do was watch her with a glowing red gaze.
Saito froze, all the color leaving her face, before she hunched forward and vomited. Gruesomely, what came up was bile, blood, and a few pieces of flesh she tore from Chrono. Unfortunately, Saito saw this and let out a heart-wrenchingly guttural scream of anguish.
Shouta gasped when she reached up and began tearing at her hair, as she cried out and wailed.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Shouta felt his breath hitch and eyes sting— releasing his Quirk to blink rapidly.
Not even a year ago, this girl sat before him with a beaming smile and bright hopes on her very first day at UA, and ever since then she's been beaten down and faced with challenges that no child should, fledgling Hero or not. And yet she always kept cheerful, no matter what she had seen, until now.
It broke his heart to see her like this.
Without his Quirk activated, hers flaired up, as her hands grew and extended claws— which dug into her scalp and ripped away at skin hiding under her pink hair.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry—"
"Stop!"
Shouta surged forward immediately, grabbing onto her shoulders as he struggled to activate his Quirk once more. With the urgency of a concerned guardian, he pulled her close and tucked her into his chest. His muscles shook from the atrophy of fighting against his paralysis, but he still held onto her tightly, with all that he could muster. Anything to keep her from hurting herself.
Saito finally fell silent, and he managed to work his Quirk back on, despite how his eyes burned. He took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away as they shrunk back to normal.
"You did what you had to." He swore, his eyes flickering back to black, as they watched her sadly.
Saito flinched, slowly meeting his gaze. His chest felt tight at just how utterly beaten she looked.
"You did what you had to." He reaffirmed sternly, making sure she really heard him. "You stopped breathing. He— he choked you out for too long. You could've— you almost—"
Shouta's breath caught in his throat, and for the first time since the conference about the summer camp and kidnapping, he lost his composure. He wished Nemuri was here, knowing the woman was closer to the girl than he was on a more personal level, but he was all Saito had right now, and he alone would have to do.
He took a breath through his nose, schooling himself, if only slightly. "I don't know what that was, but it's alright."
Saito's face scrunched up in anguish at his clear lie, as she slowly shook her head. "N—"
"It was self defense." He cut her off, desperate for her not to break any further. "You're not at fault here. You did what you had to."
Saito moved to turn her head to look at Chrono, but Shouta quickly cupped her cheeks and kept her head in place.
"No matter what, you have me on your side. You'll be alright. I'll make sure of it."
Saito's breath hitched again, this time followed by raw, heartbroken sobs.
Shouta bit the inside of his cheeks, pulling her closer before she could see the tear that fell. He closed his eyes, resting his chin on her head while cradling her with care.
Because for this moment, he wasn't holding Ōkami, fledgling Hero. He was holding Hitomi, the daughter of the closest thing he had ever had to proper family. Before Mic and Midnight and Shirakumo… He had Naomi and Riku. They were there for him, always in his corner.
It would kill them to see their girl in so much pain. And it was killing Shouta now too.
"It's alright. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong."
With that final reassurance, Saito went slack, slumping against him as she gave in to exhaustion.
Shouta gave a shuddering sigh in relief, but didn't move to let her go. In fact, Shouta didn't move an inch, until the door across the dark room was busted open.
"Eraser Head!" Amajiki crowed, battered and bruised, but far better off than Togata, who was slung over his friend's shoulder, unconscious.
Shouta raised a weak hand, silently signaling that he was alright.
But Amajiki was looking around at the scene, shocked horror painting his face.
"Sir, w-what—"
His eyes fell on Saito, who was covered in more blood than the slowly dying Villain likely had left in his whole body.
Shouta didn't let the boy linger on it too long, forcing himself up onto two unsteady legs, as he held Saito curled up against his chest, carrying her from the bloodied ground.
"We need to go. Where's the rest of the team?"
Amajiki blinked, and was mercifully professional enough to let it go. "R-right. Midoriya's fighting Chisaki, and…"
Shouta tensed. "What?"
Amajiki frowned deeply, his gaze lowered to the floor. "Sir Nighteye's been fatally wounded."
I see.
Shouta clenched his jaw, and stood taller.
"Alright."
They still had work to do.
…
The scars itched and tingled like a healing, though irritated, burn. But that didn't stop him from tracing over them again, and again.
Midnight was saying something, pointing out words on the chalkboard, probably emphasizing something important.
But all Katsuki could focus on was how heavy his phone felt in his pocket. The device was silent, and had been all day.
No reply when he texted Kirishima. And no reply when he texted Saito.
It was taking a lot of restraint to keep himself from texting Uraraka or Asui. It even crossed his mind to text Deku, though something he stubbornly refused to identify as shame, kept him from it.
He was even covertly checking his phone for news outlets every fifteen minutes for any word or whisper about a Hero mission going on, specifying the searches with "Fat Gum" "Eraser Head" "Sir Nighteye" "Ōkami" "Red Riot" and even "Deku". But nothing new ever refreshed, only articles back from Hosu and Esuha. It made him itchy, knowing there was a fight going on, and being completely blind to it.
Katsuki rested his chin on his left hand, shifting slightly to absentmindedly press his mouth into the four thin scars.
It was gnawing at him, a heavy and creeping feeling—
Midnight clapped her hands. "Any questions?"
—that something was wrong.
…
Upon slowly rousing from sleep, Hitomi immediately noticed the smells around her and what they meant.
Sterilization, plastic, bit of dust coming from a dry air vent, unscented laundry detergent—
She was in a hospital bed.
Without thought, her hand shot up to touch her right cheek, expecting to feel cotton. But when her fingers brushed against her healed over scar, it all came flooding back.
The mission. Eri. Separated from Eijirou, Fat Gum, and Amajiki. Rock Lock and Mr. Aizawa both stabbed. Togata battered and bleeding.
Everything had come falling apart. Destroyed by Overhaul before being put back together in an amalgam of horrors.
The taste of blood was gone, replaced by lingering mint toothpaste and the staleness of sleep.
Someone brushed my teeth.
Hitomi laid there, almost paralyzed by the thoughts racing through her head. At first, she staunchly denied the foggy memories of what happened, telling herself it was a nightmare. But the sting between her shoulder blades, where that man had stabbed her, and the deep throbbing ache around her neck proved that it was real.
What she did to him was all real.
"How do you feel?"
Hitomi flinched, finally sitting up to look at the door to her room.
Mr. Aizawa stood leaning against the doorway, with bandages peeking out from the neck hole of his shirt, likely wrapped around his back and right shoulder.
Before anything else, she clutched the scratchy blanket draped over her, and dared to ask;
"Eijirou, Izuku, Amajiki and Togata— Eri! Everyone! A-are they—"
"They're fine." He cut her off before she could get herself any more worked up. He approached, taking a seat in the chair beside her bed. "Surprisingly, out of you troublesome kids in my class, Kirishima is the most banged up, but it's nothing that serious. Amajiki fractured some bones in his face, but is otherwise alright. Togata is the one in the roughest shape, but he'll be fine."
Hitomi clutched her blanket to her chest, ears back in distress. "Can I see them?"
Mr. Aizawa didn't answer for a dragging moment, then he sighed and pinched his nose.
Hitomi held her breath.
But it was then that she noticed the bitter scent of…
"Now isn't the best time. I'm sorry but… Nighteye didn't make it."
Oh. It was grief.
"What?" Her voice hardly squeaked above a decibel. But he heard it.
"…He was wounded during the fight with Chisaki. He managed to hold out long enough to help Midoriya defeat him. We got him here, but it was too late, his injuries were too severe. He was conscious enough to speak with All Might, Midoriya and Togata. He passed wearing a smile."
The words were left hanging in the air to be soaked up and accepted, in a long blanket of silence.
It was only broken when a weak giggle slipped out, followed by a sudden huff of a laugh that sounded unnatural, but devolved into a series of rasping and cracking snickers and cackles. She was hunched over once again, holding her abdomen tightly as she spilled out uncontrollable and bordering on deranged laughter.
"Are you— Wow! So he—"
Mr. Aizawa watched grimly, as she moved to clutch her hospital gown over her stomach with one straining hand, digging and knotting her other into her hair, while she finally lifted her head to reveal a twisted and mirthless grin pulling on her face, with fat tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks in rapid succession.
"He died! The Hero that I was sooo mad at, died saving people, huh? He died, all while I was busy eating a man!"
Mr. Aizawa winced at her hysterical and saccharine tone, reaching over and taking her wrists, gently pulling them closer until he held both her hands in between his.
Hitomi didn't react, her wide eyes staring into nothing as unhinged laughter bubbled out, each one teetering on the edge of being a ragged sob.
She replayed it all in her mind on loop— the feeling of waking up to the scene of carnage around her. It was almost worse that she couldn't remember doing it. She killed a man, and she couldn't even remember—
"He's not dead."
The laughter got caught in her throat.
Mr. Aizawa held her hands, cupped in his to keep her from hurting herself in this state.
"That man, Hari Kurono, he's not dead. He just got out of surgery a few floors up."
Hitomi blinked slowly, sluggishly registering what he was saying exactly.
Mr. Aizawa leaned closer, his face bearing nothing but calm reassurance.
"You didn't kill him."
Hitomi swallowed, her tears flooding in for a different reason. "I… I didn't?"
He shook his head slowly, but something pinched his expression.
Hitomi felt herself deflate as she realized. "…he could still die."
It wasn't posed as a question, and Mr. Aizawa didn't shield her from the truth.
"…he's in no shape to do anything, and there's a fair chance he won't ever be off of life-support fully."
So, she all but killed him, then.
Hitomi pursed her lips together tightly, suddenly feeling so tired. "So, w-what does that mean? What if… what if he does die?"
Mr. Aizawa took a deep breath, sitting upright as he took on a more professional look.
"Are you familiar with the Student-Hero Protection Act?"
Hitomi tensed, but nodded.
Despite her confirmation, he went on to explain anyway. Likely because he was legally obligated to.
"The Student-Hero Protection Act is a clause put in place to assuage a minor undergoing Hero training in the event that they have to use lethal force on a Villain in self defense, or in defense of a civilian. Blame is placed solely on the institution at which the student is contracted with. So UA will be taking the heat for this. The act also keeps the identity of the minor a closed secret from the public, so no one outside of me, the rest of UA faculty, Fat Gum, and the police involved with the case know about what happened."
A cold jolt of dread striked her chest. "Fat Gum?"
"Since your Work Study was under him, he'll be informed of the incident on paper, but he won't be given any specific details about the situation. Don't worry. He's a Pro, he understands that these things happen in this line of work."
"W-what— what kind of trouble will you be in?" She asked fearfully, already feeling panic bubbling up at the thought that he might be fired for this.
He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
"It'll be fine. And none of it matters anyway, should the man make a full recovery."
"Right…" Hitomi murmured, unconvinced. God, what if her actions resulted in him being fired from UA? The thought shouldn't concern her nearly as much as the thought of killing someone, but she was petrified of ruining her mentor's life nonetheless.
And there was still the blaring and urgent question of; what on earth was that, that took over? What made her turn into such an animal?
The scent of bluebells and cigarettes lingered in her mind like a distantly forgotten lullaby.
…
The mission was a success. At least on paper. They rescued the girl, Eri. But it came with an undeniable cost.
As Shouta stood still outside her door, he could hear the bed sheets shuffle, before weak sobs came shuddering out.
God, if he could take away her pain somehow, he would in a heartbeat.
It was all going to be too much if things kept going wrong as often as they did. She'd seen her share of hell already, and she was still only a provisional Hero.
Unbidden, cotton candy blue hair wisped by in his mind, and as he stood in the hallway, he sent a prayer to anyone, that his charge wouldn't ever have to face the sick agony that was losing a dear friend. Or god forbid she—
The mere thought of losing one of his twenty troublesome kids, was enough to make his stomach churn.
Before Shouta had any time to linger morbidly on the thought, a creaky voice spoke up.
"It's strange."
Shouta tensed, sighing inwardly as he prepared for another headache.
"Yet another time Saito is the target of an unnamed yakuza group. It makes one wonder…" Gran Torino stared him down with an accusatory stare.
Shouta knew the suspicion didn't lie with him. He wished it did.
"We don't know it's yakuza."
"It's a safe assumption."
"Assumptions get people killed."
"Ah, like that man in critical condition. I'm sure he assumed Saito wouldn't go as far as she did."
Shouta clenched his jaw, but showed no other outward sign of the indignation growing in his chest.
"If you have something to say—"
"I've already said it plenty." The older man cut him off coldly. "It makes no sense for her to be targeted, unless—"
"Silver Shifter and Golden Geist took down several major yakuza groups, and Quirk trafficking rings, they made plenty of enemies—"
"Enemies that could have come for her sooner. That could have come for their far weaker son. They have had every opportunity to kill her, but according to Young Bakugou's report, the League was instructed to keep her alive, which was further confirmed today by Himiko Toga and Hari Kurono's refusal to kill her." Gran Torino spoke lowly, and grimly. "This isn't about revenge, Eraser. She's being recruited."
Shouta barely managed to stifle his scoff. "That's a baseless accusation, and one that makes no logical sense. Saito comes from a Hero family, did well in her first sports festival, has proven more reliable than even some Pros, and while strong, her power isn't anything special. Just your standard Mutation and Transformation Quirk."
'Standard' doesn't do what we saw. His mind hissed from the back.
Gran Torino's eyes narrowed. "You know I've never trusted—"
"I know." Shouta cut him off, fists trembling imperceptibly at his sides. "You don't trust that they were good people. Despite training the Symbol of Peace yourself, you seem awfully unwilling to believe that not all Pros are in it for the glory."
"Things don't add up, Eraser." He pushed. "Half the legal documents for their agency—"
Shouta felt hot with anger. "Have you been investigating them?"
"Have been, for years." Gran Torino admitted without hesitation.
Then, something occurred to Shouta. The reason Gran Torino was even here— outside her hospital room.
He came here to interrogate Hitomi.
The audacity had Shouta planting himself firmer in front of Saito's door. "I need you to leave."
Gran Torino sighed. "Eraser—"
"You may outrank me as a veteran Hero, but I am UA faculty, and she is my ward. I have full authority to remove you if I deem you a threat to her health. That includes emotional as well as physical." Shouta squeezed his eyes shut briefly, feeling his Quirk act up in his ire, for the first time in what was probably a decade.
The older man stared him down for a tense moment, before he sighed defeatedly, and walked away. His cane clacked with each step.
Only once the elderly man rounded the corner, did Shouta let his shoulders drop.
A harsh sigh blew through his nose, as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Despite being exhausted, he knew he still needed to check in with the rest of his students that weren't sent to the hospital, before diving in on all the paperwork he needed to fill out to make sure Saito wouldn't face any serious consequences over the whole ordeal.
Even though he hid it from her well, Shouta was beyond stressed, knowing full-well this whole situation could end in his termination with UA. The thing he was most worried about with that possible outcome, was how it would affect Saito. He couldn't imagine she would take it easy.
His stomach gave a loud rumble, and he inwardly conceded to finally grab something to eat, now that he had finished checking in on all his kids that were injured in the mission.
Shouta didn't want to leave the building, however, so he entered a creaky elevator and reluctantly pushed the button to take him down to the second-floor cafeteria. The generic elevator music did nothing to keep his mind from replaying the scene he saw hours ago, of Saito's unexplainable episode.
The ping of the elevator reaching its destination snapped him out of the memory.
Shouta stepped forward, briefly closing his eyes at the harsh fluorescence, as they were still stinging from his callous rubbing. But he couldn't even fully exit the elevator before a body collided with his.
"Oh!"
Years of Hero work kept his reflexes honed, and thanks to that he caught the person by their biceps before they could fall. Meanwhile his body hadn't budged an inch despite his bone-deep exhaustion.
Wide apple green eyes blinked up at him under thick lashes.
Shouta inwardly mused that most other men would likely grow flustered under such a beautiful woman's stare. That being said, he wasn't most men.
"Are you alright?"
The woman blinked once more before nodding hurriedly, her cheeks flushing, presumably out of bashfulness.
"Uh— yes! Thank you."
He let her go, stepping back and taking a quick cursory glance over her.
5'9", rather tall for a woman in Japan, with platinum blonde waist length hair, and green eyes. Pointed ears signifying some form of minor mutation from a Quirk. Slim, but her biceps were hard with hidden muscle, dressed in a sleek and seemingly designer brand lime green pantsuit, with white tipped manicured nails that gripped a vase.
She was clearly someone affluent, and given that she was marching her way through a hospital currently housing a plethora of injured Heroes, it was likely she was either on someone's business team, or she was a significant other.
The flowers in the vase, he noticed, seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place them—"
"Bluebells." The woman chirped, as if reading his mind. Perhaps she was, given he didn't know her Quirk. "They're a family favorite."
Shouta nodded, stepping aside for her to pass, all while he wracked his mind for where he could have seen the oddly shaped flowers before.
He didn't have any reason to question her identity or her exact objective, knowing that the floors housing the Heroes and captured Villains above them needed a keycard to enter, for security reasons to keep all the vulnerable and healing Heroes safe, and the Villains from escaping.
Shouta didn't bother adding anything more to the exchange, stepping aside to let her enter, and giving her a short nod before he went on his way to eat some subpar food.
Only once he was sitting at a table, slowly chewing on a stale pre-packaged sandwich, did he remember.
Bluebells were Naomi's favorite.
…
The second that the metal doors slid closed, apple green eyes flattened in disgust, their color taking on an acidity.
Kikyo Nakamura gave a muted scoff, removing one hand from the vase and looking down at the item hidden cupped in her palm, which revealed to be a small keycard she swiped from him.
"Shouta Aizawa… Hm."
Of course, she had recognized him. It would be foolish not to thoroughly examine the people in her darling girl's life. Injured and exhausted or not, she was almost disappointed that the esteemed Eraser Head hadn't noticed her quick grab, but then again, the man had already proven to be useless, and she was nothing if not a master of her craft.
Kikyo's eyes narrowed at the memory of seeing the reports of the attack on the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, and how her sweet girl was nearly killed under his watch. By a band of then-novices at that.
Naomi and Riku really didn't do the best job at training him. She thought to herself derisively.
With a swipe of the card, she easily made her way up the floors, hesitating for a moment when tempted with the thought of visiting her darling girl, but she didn't have the time. There was a short window to do this, and she had no intention of keeping her loyal subordinates waiting.
Just the compassionate and caring mafia boss that she was.
Reaching the correct floor, Kikyo huffed to herself, marching down the hallways with purpose, not being stopped once by any passing staff or Heroes loitering around.
Many of them looked distraught, and she barely contained a sneer at the sight of them.
They were lucky more of them weren't killed. Another reason she was so incensed by Chisaki's massive failure.
He only managed to kill one Hero, took the powers away from one child, and managed to get himself beaten and arrested by even younger children. Not to mention one of his right hand men went and nearly killed her sweetheart. No matter his intentions, Hari Kurono was careless, and could've irreversibly ruined everything.
Kikyo was borderline snarling by the time she made it to his hospital room.
And it was almost cute how quickly the heart monitors started to pick up the pace.
"Hello Hari." Kikyo chirped, striding toward his bed and setting the vase on the table at the end of it before standing over his side. "You're looking well!"
Kurono whimpered around the thick tube shoved down his throat. His eyes were hazy, perception dulled by painkillers, but he clearly had enough clarity to recognize her, and what exactly it meant for him.
"I hear the surgery was successful!" She said, cheerfully slapping a hand down in the middle of his heavily padded and bandaged stomach.
Kurono grunted, his eyes rolling back as he almost went unconscious from the sudden and callous pain.
"Well, as successful as it could be, what with half your organs having bite marks." Kikyo giggled, completely unbothered.
Kurono's eyes welled with tears, and he mumbled something incoherent around the tube.
Kikyo sighed, dropping the act, replacing it with irritated disappointment. "You really screwed yourself here, Hari."
Kurono closed his eyes, whimpering again in what sounded like shameful agreement.
Kikyo stared him down with a lazy look of annoyance. "I thought I made myself crystal clear to your master."
Kurono started to nod frantically as best he could in a neckbrace, squeaking out unknown excuses and apologies.
The heart rate monitor was beeping faster.
"I expressly stated that the girl called Hitomi Saito would not be seriously injured. And what do you do? You choke her out instead of getting a sedative which I know you fucking imbeciles have in supply!"
Kurono flinched, eyes scrunched shut as he was likely anticipating her impending punishment.
Kikyo sighed deeply, as if dealing with an unruly child. "You forget your place. You're nothing but a weak little bug, under the control of a human much more valuable than yourself. You follow orders, and you survive. You break them, and you suffer the consequences. And unfortunately Hari, you broke my biggest rule."
Kurono began to cry in earnest.
"I'm sick of seeing my darling be hurt by incompetent worms." Kikyo reached into her pocket, her expression going thoughtful. "Though… I suppose you did do something of worth. Now she has a slight understanding of what she's capable of. To think, his Quirk managed to shine through. Talk about best-case-scenario!" She barked a laugh.
The heart rate slowed a fraction.
"Now, as for this whole issue, I'll let you atone by carrying out one last job." She gave him a smile that held no warmth. "I need you to send the perfect message."
The heart rate picked up once more, growing in speed more and more, until it cut out, and a long, unending beep blared from the machine in its place.
By the time staff arrived at the room, the bed was empty, and the only sign that someone had been there at all, was the vase of bright bluebells left on the table.
…
Hitomi's ear twitched, and she held her breath upon hearing the alarm going off from a floor above her. Within seconds she heard a stampede of footfall rush by her door, and jumped when her door was thrown open.
Mr. Aizawa was panting, as he frantically looked her over with a panicked gaze.
"Sir?"
His eyes were stern, giving nothing away.
"Who did you fight during our first training drill?"
Hitomi frowned, ears flattening, but she answered nonetheless.
"Shouto."
"How did he beat you?"
"He…" Her face darkened a hue as she averted her eyes in re-visited embarrassment. "…he threw an ice frisbee… I chased it…"
Mr. Aizawa visibly relaxed, before his expression hardened.
"We're moving you. Can you stand?"
Hitomi cocked her head and distractedly pulled the blanket off of herself. "Wait, what's going on?"
Mr. Aizawa clenched his jaw, but ultimately decided to tell her.
"Hari Kurono is missing. He can't have left on his own, which means someone helped him escape."
Hitomi paled. "W-where could they be?"
"We're searching, but that's why I need to move you into the same room we've moved Kirishima and Midoriya into." Mr. Aizawa came over upon seeing her legs wobble, and hooked her left arm around his shoulders. "And we're stationing guards right outside the door."
Hitomi nodded, surprised at how lightheaded she felt. Whatever took control of her had left her feeling unbelievably drained.
"What about the girl? Eri?"
"She's being monitored by staff and a police squad. She's unharmed, but she developed a strong fever."
Hitomi's ears flattened completely to her head. "Is she gonna be okay?"
Mr Aizawa nodded as they stepped out into the hallway. "She should be fine, it only seems to be backlash from her Quirk."
"Oh." Hitomi murmured, before a flash of yellow caught her eye. She looked back over her shoulder, spotting Gran Torino standing at the end of the hallway down on their right. She raised her hand and gave a weak wave.
The elderly man stared her down with suspicion and contempt.
Hitomi remembered back during the first meeting about the mission, and how he'd looked at her the same way then, too.
But why?
Mr. Aizawa turned her away, helping her along in the opposite direction of the man.
She could feel his stare on her back the whole way down the hall, and all the way until the elevator doors closed.
When they opened again on the correct floor, Hitomi jumped at the tall figure standing in front of it.
Rock Lock was holding his bandaged side, where he had been stabbed by Toga. He held the same expression that she had grown used to seeing on him— that being tight-lipped irritation.
But his scent—
Upon seeing her and Mr. Aizawa, his expression loosened slightly. A large and calloused hand plopped down on her head firmly, raising an inch to repeat the motion again.
Hitomi blinked slowly.
His scent only held gratitude and relief.
"Glad to see you up, kid." Rock Lock casually said, keeping his hand on her head and ruffling her hair as he looked at Mr. Aizawa. "Hey Eraser. What's the status?"
Hitomi stared up at him with wide and marveling eyes, cheeks warming under the unexpected praise. But immediately a faint but sharp pain stabbed her in the stomach as she was hit with a thought… I don't deserve this praise.
Mr. Aizawa rolled his shoulder, his face giving no sign of pain. "Just a few stitches. I've managed with worse."
"Yeah, I know." Rock Lock's eyes lingered on the scar beneath Mr. Aizawa's right eye. He sighed, dropping his hand from her head and sliding past them to enter the elevator. "Well, let's hope we don't see each other again for a while."
Without context, his last statement sounded harsh, but Hitomi knew he meant that they wouldn't have to team up again any time soon, not to this scale at least.
"Uh— bye?" Hitomi stammered out when the doors started to close behind them, waving awkwardly.
She just barely caught a glimpse of Rock Lock's small but amused smirk, before it closed fully.
"He asked about you."
"Huh?" Hitomi looked at her teacher in surprise.
Mr. Aizawa slowly steered her down the hallway, his eyes keeping vigilant watch of their surroundings, despite his neutral expression.
"He wanted to know how you were doing. You seemed to have earned his respect when you patched him up."
Hitomi forced her feet to keep moving, speechless. She didn't even think Rock Lock had been coherently conscious when she tended to him, not to mention it was a slapdash job, done under tense circumstances in which she couldn't even offer emotional support, as a Hero was supposed to do when treating the injured.
She always had a feeling that he was a big softie deep down. And not for the first time since she awoke, her mind drifted to a similar person to the Pro. She absentmindedly patted at her hospital pajama pants, feeling for her phone.
I need to let everyone know we're okay… I want him to know that I'm okay— Her feet stalled for a step, the hitch seeming chalked up to her fatigue, still helped along by Mr. Aizawa. But the real reason she stopped, was the wave of anticipation she suddenly felt to see Katsuki. Of course Momo too, and the rest of her friends, but—
I need to see him— I need to smell him— I need to touch—
Her face began to burn hot, eyes staring down at the floor moving under them, brows furrowed as she briefly caught a break from her tormenting thoughts about the mission, instead suddenly seeming unable to think about anything other than him.
What is this? She weakly raised an unsteady hand to her chest, face burning so hot. What is this fuzzy ache and heat in my chest?
All too soon the two were standing at a door that was manned by two police officers on either side. They nodded at Mr. Aizawa and gave him the all-clear to enter.
Izuku and Eijirou both whipped around to face the door as they stepped inside, visibly perking up when they saw who it was.
"Hitomi!"
It was a relief to see them, but the pinkette blinked, then gawked.
"Eijirou?!"
Her redheaded friend smiled— or it seemed like it, it was difficult to tell through all the bandages wrapping his face, as well as every other square inch of his body. He attempted to wave with his cast, pulling it out of the sling.
Izuku winced, motioning for him to put his arm back.
Hitomi quickly entered, getting a closer look at the boys' injuries. She stood by Eijirou and fretted over him first, left rounding on Mr. Aizawa almost accusingly.
"You said he was fine!"
"I said his injuries weren't that serious."
"You call this not serious?!" Hitomi wildly gestured at the boy whose body was covered almost entirely by bandages.
"Don't worry about me Hitomi, it's kinda cool being a mummy man." Eijirou joked, clearly trying to make light of his current condition to calm her down. "And anyway, are you okay? Those are some gnarly bruises."
Hitomi flinched, hand shooting up to cover her neck.
And in an instant, she was reminded of the way she had mauled a man, tearing him apart like an animal. Possibly killing him…
Any desire to joke and relax now that she had seen two of her friends, shriveled up and died. She didn't deserve to, not after what she did.
Besides, they still didn't know what happened to her, so there was no telling if it could happen again. What if she just snapped and attacked Eijirou or Izuku? She couldn't be trusted.
"Your cheek's cut too…" Izuku's voice was so soft and caring, arms busted to hell but showing concern over the tiny cut. It actually hurt.
She was glad they couldn't see the bandages wrapped around her torso, from the deep gash on her back.
Izuku turned to Mr. Aizawa. "Sir, now that we're all here, what's going on? What's with the alarms?"
Hitomi stiffened, holding her breath as she waited for his response.
"…One of the Villains we had in custody got out, we're searching for him right now."
Izuku shot to his feet. "What about Eri? Is she—"
"She'll be fine. She's being guarded to the teeth." Mr. Aizawa assured him.
"How did they even get in? The security—"
"The security is fine. This falls on me." Mr. Aizawa cut Izuku off, crossing his arms.
"What?! How?" Eijirou asked first, while Hitomi and Izuku were too busy staring slack-jawed.
He sighed. "My keycard is missing. I ran into a woman earlier, carrying a vase of bluebells—"
Hitomi went cold.
"—and that same vase was found left in the man's hospital room."
"What did she look like?" Izuku questioned, his brows furrowed seriously.
"Blonde hair, green eyes, pointed ears, 5'9", wearing a green pantsuit."
Hitomi slowly sat in the chair beside Eijirou's bed, heart racing as she tried writing off the coincidence. What were the odds that the vase would be full of bluebells?
"Bluebells are Mama's favorite…" Hitomi mumbled lowly in a thoughtless reassurance to herself. It was a coincidence. She dreamed about bluebells because they reminded her of her mother. Something her subconscious gave her to help in a moment of intense fear. The vase was a coincidence. There was no other explanation.
There are no other explanations. She roared the words in her mind until they were seared into the back of it, shutting down any and all tiny possible thoughts and ideas anxiously bubbling up. No other explanations. None.
"If you see anyone fitting that description, call for me immediately." Mr. Aizawa stressed.
"Right!" Izuku quickly nodded.
Hitomi gave a small hum in agreement.
"Oh, Hitomi, have you seen Fat Gum yet?" Eijirou prompted her, likely trying to change the subject to something less dire.
"Er… no." Hitomi spoke hesitantly, unsure how to tell them that she had been too sickened with herself to leave her hospital bed, prior to the emergency. Plus she had no idea if he had been informed about her incident yet. "Is he alright?"
"Yeah, he's fine! He looks way different though! Did you know that his Quirk is…"
As Eijirou rambled on about the Hero, Hitomi noticed the way that Izuku slowly sat back down, slouching slightly as his eyes went low and darker.
That scent hung heavily on him too.
"I'm sorry but… Nighteye didn't make it."
Hitomi swallowed dryly, halfheartedly nodding along to what her friend was saying, all while carefully watching the other.
…
"I hear you took care of Chisaki."
Every head in the room turned sharply, distrustful and venomous gazes pinned on Kikyo as she stood in the entrance of their current hide-away, light haloing around her in a way that was almost ethereal, even while standing leaned casually against the doorway and holding a large dark duffle bag.
"After all, he's no good without his hands."
"Who the hell are you?" The scarred man whom Kikyo knew went by Dabi, sneered and took a step closer from his spot leaning against the derelict wall of the abandoned warehouse they were hunkered down in.
Sad. To think that this was how far All for One's forces had fallen.
Kikyo sighed, sliding the duffle from her shoulder and slinging it out into the middle of the group. She narrowed her eyes at the boy wearing severed hands, who was standing and moving toward her now without hesitation, clearly preparing to attack.
She rolled her eyes, settling her hands on her hips without a care.
"You may address me as Lady Hinnagami, or simply by Madam."
The boy now called Tomura Shigaraki stopped sharply, almost freezing in place.
Atsuhiro, or Compress, went rigid and exhaled a stuttering breath.
Iguchi, called Spinner, immediately shot to his feet, standing straight as if she was his military sergeant. Even despite the scales covering his skin she could see a hot flush rising. He stared at her like she was a god. He knew exactly who she was.
She decided she liked Iguchi. If things didn't pan out with Shigaraki she might just have to poach him.
Toga simply peered around at her allies, frowning at her obvious ignorance. Though she wasn't alone, as Bubaigawara was no better, blatantly scratching his head in cartoonish confusion.
"Is that supposed to mean something?" Dabi scoffed, ignoring the way that Iguchi frantically shook his head at him in terrified and awed reprimand, scarf whipping wildly in his panicked signaling.
Kikyo couldn't help but find his cosplay of Stain to be rather precious.
"Dabi—" Atsuhiro hissed tensely, body shaking almost imperceptibly.
Kikyo looked at Todoroki with an expression of boredom.
"You're the oldest. Born red, and died white, all alone on a burning hill."
Todoroki did well at masking his reaction, but his body betrayed him as the unmarried skin of his face went pale, and his icy blue eyes widened a fraction.
"…What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?!" Bubaigawara burst, and immediately cradled his head in pain, mumbling nonsense to himself.
Toga put her hands comfortingly on either side of his head, standing behind him where he sat curled up on the floor.
"What is it?" Shigaraki finally spoke, gesturing lazily at the duffle.
Kikyo perked up, smiling chipperly. "Oh! That's just a present I wanted to give you."
"A present!" Bubaigawara gasped in delight, then recoiled. "I don't want nothing from you, crazy lady!" His voice went low as he crossed his arms defiantly.
The whole display had Atsuhiro fidgeting in place, whereas Iguchi was the one to bravely approach, using one of his long blades to nudge the unzipped bag open, and peered inside.
It was needless to say he wasn't expecting what he saw, as he reeled back, stunned.
Toga pounced on it next, fearlessly sticking her head close to get a good look. Her expression quickly twisted into surprise, then recognition.
"It's—"
Kikyo wordlessly reached into her blazer (smirking minutely at the sound of several of them tensing or readying for some kind of threat) pulling out and opening a manila folder, throwing a handful of large police report photos from it to the floor, which fanned out and showed the League the reason she came here for a visit.
"Hari here did a very bad thing. So I punished him." She smiled at them primly.
Todoroki scoffed weakly. "And how is that a present for us?"
Her smile turned thin and long, her eyes hooded in a salacious look of glee. "Because I just gave you the first casualty of war."
She did a sudden twirl, immediately losing all signs of her true nature, falling into an expression of pure innocent fear. "Did you hear?! Heroes murdered an untried man— mutilated his body to cover it up! They killed him and then got rid of his body, all to avoid a bit of paperwork!" She raised a manicured hand to her mouth, covering it now in a look of childish saccharin shock. "Mommy, Daddy, why did the Heroes chop him up into little pieces?" Then she cocked her head, switching personas again, grinning manically as her tone went high and nurturing but in a strangely sterile way. "Because sweetie, they're liars! They kill anyone they decide is bad, and dump the body so they don't get in trouble! But even the League of Villains could spare that mean ol' Overhaul! I wonder which Pro did it? Endeavor, Hawks, Jeanist— so many it could be! So how can we trust any of them?"
The room was still with a heavy silence, all eyes locked on her figure.
She loosened her stance and grinned. "I'll give word when you need to plant the body— or, parts. And you let me take care of the rest. I'll have the people turning on those Pros like you've never seen. You thought Kamino helped your little cause? No one will be blindly following those Heroes once I'm finished." Her lips sharpened into a smirk of unrestrained pleasure.
"…Something tells me this isn't for free." Todoroki growled from his spot sulking in the corner.
"Of course not." She nodded down at the photos littering the floor.
Atsuhiro bravely picked up one of the many photos that had been taken of her darling girl post-mission, showing a close-up of her violently bruised neck. They had been taken as evidence, and Kikyo had quickly gotten her hands on them from some of her connections.
"Not another hair on her head is to be harmed, understood? Kurono was a fool who caused her needless injury, and he paid the price for it."
Toga continued to stare down into the duffle, and into the dull and lifeless eyes of Hari Kurono's severed head, which sat resting on the rest of him.
Kikyo smiled again, practically beaming as she clapped her hands once.
"And I'll need a quick favor from Toga and Bubaigawara here."
The man and girl both looked up and then at each other in surprise, before Toga pointed at herself in confusion.
Kikyo nodded. "Yes. I'm going to need you to bottle some of that up, and hold onto it for me, okay?" She swirled a finger at the duffle.
Toga looked at the blood beginning to seep through the fabric of the bag.
"Uh, sure?"
"What about me!" Bubaigawara eagerly shot up his hand, seeming to have already forgotten his earlier distrust of her.
"I'm going to need a few doubles. Toga and I will get you the measurements you need."
"Tubular." Bubaigawara nodded very seriously.
"Wonderful! Welp, I'll be in touch! Expect contact around the new year. Toodles!"
Kikyo turned on her heel, strutting out of the building before any potential questions could be asked. She had places she needed to be, and arrangements to set. They were finally now in the endgame of her plan, so close to her goal that it almost made her squeal.
She primly slid into the seat waiting for her outside, the car door shutting behind her gently before her assistant went around and got into the driver's seat.
She stared blissfully out the tinted windows, quietly singing a song to herself to bide her patience, and hold off on rushing into things. All that mattered was that she was bringing her darling home. Whether today or a decade from now—
Just hold on a bit longer for Momma to come save you, Sakura. We're almost there…
"On a white wall… someone has drawn~ a small flower that's so delicate it sways… in the wind~"
FINALLY. I'M FREE FROM THE TORMENT*
*(the Hassaikai Arc)
Whenever I can get the next chapter written be ready because I'm dropping a Cherry-Bomb on you. I've missed them so much DX