My Despairful Academia

by TheHeroCure

"If someone like me is born, that means the world is yearning for despair." Junko Enoshima was sure she didn't say that shit…meh, that's prolly something that A.I version of herself will say in the future. That other future. Here? Sure, why the heck not? She's gonna say it. She's really, really gonna say it! Superpowers, heroes, villains, or whatever the fuck else notwithstanding!

12. Chapter 12

The Cure for Heroism (End): Wait, Your Dream Is to Be a What? Upupupu, Sorry, There's No Cure for Stupidity.

Hope is harmony. A heroic heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope's polar opposite. It is messy and confusing. It swallows up love, hatred, dreams, and everything else. Because not knowing where you will end up is despair. Despair is even what you cannot predict. Only despair's unpredictability can turn you into my ideal hero.

Junko Enoshima, ? ? ?.

---

"What do you make out of this?"

"What do I make of what in specific, sir?"

The confusion of his partner was genuine, Naomasa Tsukauchi could tell without his quirk already confirming as much. He turned to the brown-haired man beside him, barely one in his mid-twenties, and gave him a deadpan expression. He suppressed the urge to sigh, but his stare lasted long enough to make his junior show signs of being uncomfortable. A feat in itself, considering Aoto Watanabe's quirk, Steel Nerves, granted him high resistance to these types of demonstrations.

Still, even the head detective of Japan's police force had to admit he was being somewhat unfair given the…uncharacteristic circumstances of this case.

Once they were back at the office, Naomasa will remind him that answering a question with another question to a superior instead of a proper response, regardless of being right or wrong, was unprofessional. Being a detective didn't excuse him from that.

Nevertheless, that will have to wait. For now, he will throw him a lifeline.

"The crime," Naomasa began, quietly so as to not disturb his peers in white protective suits who were busy examining any possible evidence and taking pictures of it. "How long since being committed do you believe it to be?"

There was some mild solace on Watanabe's expression upon hearing his new line of questioning, with his quirk making him look reserved despite most likely being brimmed with relief on the inside. Although it was a momentary cheer in victory before he put himself to the task of thoroughly examining Naomasa's inquiry.

After a minute or so of looking around with critical eyes, it appeared Watanabe found his answer, "I would estimate to be some weeks now, between two or three months perhaps, judging by the smell and the state from…what is left. At least that much I can deduct bare-handed, sir. We would require to let those on forensics finish their jobs here and then in the labs before getting a more accurate estimation." Naomasa made a non-committal humming sound at that.

A by-the-book response, huh?

Not necessarily wrong, perhaps even accurate, but his partner in this case was not paying enough attention to the quirk factor. Any quirks involved by the hands of the assaulter, or the quirks of the victims themselves could potentially cause disruptions in the variables.

As far as they were aware, whether it was as their quirk suggested or an unknown side-effect of it, any of the involved could've been possessors of one capable of releasing chemicals like sodium hydroxide or any other reagent with similar effects on the human body. That would throw any theories and conclusions they make here for a loop.

In a society with all kinds of powers at their disposal like the one they lived, the answers to scenarios like these could be found where they least imagined, and might as well be impossible to decipher if one lacked enough creativity.

That being said…

One detail about what Naomasa's partner said was ringing in his head.

From what was left.

The police-force detective couldn't help grimacing at that. Well, the truth of the matter was that he had been doing so ever since setting foot in this house.

It all began with multiple calls to the police from neighbors and passersby alike. All of them complaints about an unbearable smell coming out of a nearby residence. Added to the fact that said house was already the bearer of past allegations regarding the disruption of peace, especially in the category of noise violations, the nearest commissary saw fit to quickly delegate a pair of officers to investigate the issue.

Not a moment after arriving at the scene of the crime, it became apparent that this was way above their paycheck. Naomasa could confirm that much now that he was looking at it with his own eyes.

The only illumination in the living room before their team brought their own equipment was a bunch of candles placed around. Additionally, each and every other possible source of light the police had come across in their preventive search had been confirmed as non-functional, or with clear signs of being broken. Purposely, Naomasa suspected.

Barricaded windows. Grey and decaying walls. The furniture such as counters, cushions, and a TV screen with cracks in its corners, among others. Each one of them with clear signals of struggle like scratches, claw marks, and the occasional debris littering around. If none of that was proof enough of a violent crime taking place here, then the blackened stains of dried blood spreading all over the room was.

All of it combined made for a macabre scenery. And yet, Naomasa deeply wished that was the most disturbing of details. Looking down at the floor, there was a sight that even a detective with fifteen years of experience like him could put his hair at the back of his neck on end.

Bones.

Loads of them scattered around, some of them still with remnants of meat lingering on their remains. Even if all of them were big enough to fit human proportions, they came in varying sizes, and the black-haired adult gritted his teeth in impotence at suspecting it wasn't only because they were different types of bones.

Swallowing the brief and seemingly unnoticeable release of emotions down, Naomasa focused on a particular detail most of them shared. That was to say, the notable teeth-shaped dents on them. Disturbing as the implications were, the detective couldn't deny that was likely one of his most important clues so far.

And about the last one in their current location.

"Let's keep looking." Was everything Naomasa said before finally getting his feet to work. With nothing more than a hum in agreement, Watanabe followed diligently behind him.

Despite his previous spiel about quirks and unknown variables, Naomasa had a good knack for what happened here. After all, the crime scene's resemblance with previous works of the now fugitive Rank-A Villain, Moonfish, matched to a degree. It was far from identical, but it still coincided just enough to not be ignored.

However, just because there were parallels, it didn't mean Naomasa had already got his suspect. What occurred here was seemingly clear, yes, but who was responsible and how? That was yet to be determined, even if he suspected he would be finding the answers he was looking for, so long as he continued with his search.

Whether he liked those answers or not…well, he already hated what he had seen so far. Besides, that part came with the job. Complaining about it wasn't going to change what had been a grim truth for almost two decades.

As he strolled through the corridor, and with the reassurance that the police have already secured the perimeter within the house, Naomasa decided it was as good time as any to reflect on the testimonies he gathered.

Leaving aside the unnecessary remarks about the appearance of this house's residents, it was consistently informed that the family consisted of a couple and their six sons and daughters. Save for the youngest, each member had some slight variation of the same mutant quirk. Its member ratio was three females and five males with, as far as everyone was aware, only three out of them being adults.

They had an infamy of being the black sheep in the neighborhood, with daily and easily heard discussions taking place within their household, suspicions of domestic violence, and rumors of each and one of their children showing problematic behavior, with the couple's eldest son suspected of already being on the steps of villainy.

Some also pointed out that they couldn't remember seeing them come out of their house in a few months, almost as if they suddenly disappeared ever since that long ago, which coincided with Watanabe's assumption.

While it certainly sounded like concerning information, none of that gave him a helpful hint about what he had seen so far. The closest scenario he could imagine with that information alone would be that their oldest son ended up messing with the wrong people and he and his family paid the consequences for that.

Although even if that was the case, not even the Yakuza, who were infamous for their lack of empathy for those who wronged them, compared with the brutality that took place here.

This being the work of Moonfish didn't add up either. The part of doing that to their victims along with the excessive blood certainly did. The rest, however? Subtlety wasn't a known trait of the villain. Even if six months without knowing his whereabouts suggested otherwise, his handiwork would've left the entire house in shambles, not just its interiors. People would've reported something just moments after happening, hours in a bad scenario, and perhaps one or two days at worst. Not months late and only after the perpetrator finally let his guard down and overlooked an opening.

A third possibility briefly came to mind. That being said, he thought it was better to put the idea on reserve until he had at least one hint that pointed at it.

Only I know how big of a headache I would suffer if this had any correlation with that.

The walk towards his next destination was relatively short, understandable considering the house wasn't very large, so Naomasa was forced to cut his assessment of the case short. How the smell in the vicinity worsened helped in that endeavor.

Ahead of him was the open entrance of what he assumed to be the kitchen. Only the pair of officers blocking the sight prevented him from fully confirming it.

"Ah, Tsukauchi!" One of them, a man looking in his early fifties whose face was the perfect resemblance of what everyone first assumed a police officer looked like, spoke. All the while doing his best at hiding how uncomfortable he was. "It is good to see they sent someone who earns his salary for this mess."

Naomasa's quirk confirmed he was indeed relieved about his presence. Not like it was hard to assume what was the actual source of his tense body language.

That being said, he wasn't here to waste time overthinking those details.

"Anything I should know before taking a look?" He decided it was best to be brief and get to the point.

"It's a goddamn memory trip to the stories my old man used to tell me from far before All Might came to patch things up." The older man said before letting out a gruff scoff. "If your buddy over there has a sensible stomach, I suggest you leave him here. There's no shame in that when one considers what's behind me."

Naomasa gave a brief look at his companion who, true to his nature of only speaking when deemed necessary, in response gave a reassuring nod.

That was good enough for him, "I appreciate the warning, but we will be fine."

"Your call, lad." The officer shrugged. "One more thing I can tell ya, though. Whomever scoundrel is responsible for this, you won't see me shed a tear when they get assigned an all-paid trip to Tartarus followed by the chair. Hells, I wouldn't even mind a first-row seat to see the bastard pay."

Crass, but apart from having no interest in making a spectacle out of it, Naomasa couldn't have it in him to disagree. If the smaller bones in the living room truly belonged to whom he suspected, a lifetime sentence to Japan's prison for its worst criminals would be the least of the culprit's problems.

After giving an even thanks for the prompt for a second occasion, the officers moved aside and Naomasa, with his partner following at his side, walked inside.

A single step into it forced him to cover the lower half of his face to prevent his nostrils from burning. The change was just that radical. While the living room was a combination of rustiness and rotten eggs, in the kitchen the only scent one could discern was that of death and decay.

He heard Watanabe letting out small coughs, and Naomasa would've asked if he was truly okay, but at this point, most of his attention was on his surroundings.

If Naomasa was grimacing before, now he was fully scowling.

The living room was a trip onto a movie scene bordering between thriller and horror.

The kitchen, however, was a direct journey into a slaughterhouse.

Everywhere he looked, there was at least one noticeable spot of red and green miss mashed into a nauseous dark brown. Solidified sanguine fluid painted the floor in what was once puddles leaking out of the fleshy masses littering the table, the cabinets, and the counters. Each and one was malformed beyond recognition, with only a very specific set of quirks having a chance of figuring out to whom belonged what.

A sight so revolting and wrong, that only the flies lying around, so ignorant and uncaring of its origins, could feast upon it.

It all made him question a single thing.

Why?

Why would someone go at such leaps and bounds to commit something like this? Something that goes beyond grudges and hate?

He truly did his best attempt at finding any justification behind this, but despite how much he tried, every train of thought met a roadblock. There were quirks that changed someone's diet, that was common knowledge, but one that made you crave human flesh? And to these extremes? He never heard of one. The closest thing would be those with vampiric-related quirks, where it wasn't unheard of stories where abstinence from blood had severe psychological ramifications on its user.

That didn't add up either, though, even under the mental gymnastics that was assuming the residents were affected by their mutation after years of not showing any issues whatsoever. Not only because every single member within the Yasuda's had a rat mutation quirk, with his youngest member being the sole exception through quirklessness, but a quick assessment of the building would also easily tell you that it wasn't blood that they were after.

Otherwise, what would be the point of 'wasting' so much of it?

Naomasa would only admit it to himself, but these cases were logic and common sense was nowhere to be found, they truly were the worst of all.

"How should we proceed?" It was for moments like these, that he was grateful of choosing the brown-haired detective to accompany him. Naomasa didn't' doubt Watanabe was feeling as much righteous fury as he was, but the young man's quirk was doing wonders at keeping his head straight.

"Despite the looks, no, precisely because of how it looks, we can't discard the possibility that something of importance has been hidden here." Naomasa briefly gazed at the fridge. Half-open enough for him to see that despite being broken beyond repair, whoever was responsible for this unforgivable crime, didn't see a problem with making use of it regardless.

It also was about the last spot he would want to touch. However, that in itself made him suspicious of it.

Watanabe must have picked up on the look he was giving at the kitchen equipment, with how his brows raised up by a degree and his voice had a touch of disbelief as he spoke, "Are we seriously…?"

"Having reservations about doing this should be motivation on its own to go with it, don't you think? We can't discard the idea of the culprit keeping something of relevance in there for those exact reasons."

His partner seemed reluctant, nevertheless, he didn't attempt to disagree with him. Naomasa briefly wondered if the fear of having Watanabe appointed to be the one to do it was an extra motivator to not bring any protests.

Shaking his head out of those distracting thoughts, he gave one brief and hesitant look at the now useless freezing device. Seeing no reason to delay this, he proceeded with his self-imposed task, thanking like he had never done in his life for wearing gloves.

With cautious steps, Naomasa walked down to the other end of the room, all the while having one hand once again covering his nose, as impossible as it should be, the odor worsened with each step he took. Once face to face with the hellish compartment, his hand reached for its insides, and with it about to touch the nearest slab of flesh, he―

"True Man! S-Sir, it's an emergency! You…you have to come and see this!"

The head detective didn't waste a second in parting away from the fridge before turning back to see the officer who entered the scene.

"What is it?" Naomasa raised his hand to stop the previous two uniformed men from wasting time berating the newcomer's abrupt appearance. "Has the culprit been spotted in the vicinity?" He asked with urgency. While he couldn't want anything more than catching the Villain, that this was Moonfish they were talking about hadn't been entirely discarded.

No one in the police force was near to have a quirk with enough firepower to fight someone like him. It would require at least two middle-tier Pros, and even they would need quirks that properly countered the Rank A Villain.

They simply weren't prepared to fight someone of that caliber.

A ton worth of weight was lifted off his shoulders when he saw the young policeman shake his head in negation, "It's not that. In the backyard, some of our people noticed something weird around the bushes, and after giving it a look we noticed that there was a trapdoor leading down a basement of sorts. We got inside to take a look, and…well…it would be best if you saw it by yourself, sir."

At any other time, Naomasa would have reproached him and the other members of the police for acting in such an impulsive manner. What if opening the door without doing so in a specific manner triggered a trap that got rid of any relevant evidence? Or worse, if it was booby-trapped against intruders?

It was neither the place nor the moment, though, as there were far more urgent issues to deal with right this very instant.

As if his life depended on it, Naomasa rushed out of the house, shouting quick apologies every time he nearly stumbled with the forensic personnel. Although his lungs thanked him for the intake of fresh air once outside and under the setting sun, he continued without letting that distract him.

Turning around a corner, he finally caught sight of a dozen men in blue circling around something in the back of the house. At the sound of his footsteps, they all turned with cautious stances that quickly relaxed once they noticed it was him.

"Tsukauchi," His feline-looking coworker and longtime friend, Sansa Tamakawa, greeted. "Apologies about the trapdoor. By the time I came to warn them about not touching anything, some were already inside. Luckily, it was just in time to stop them from altering any evidence. Speaking of which, anything we could work with inside the house?"

"Don't worry, I understand that these abnormal circumstances might've triggered some of our guys to act under different priorities," Naomasa briefly glanced to the side, where Watanabe caught up to him, before addressing Tamakawa, "About the house. I didn't get to explore it thoroughly, but based on what I did get to witness, beyond reasons to add extra life sentences to whoever is behind this, there wasn't anything particularly useful."

"Hmm, is that so?" The feline officer mused thoughtfully; one could almost confuse it with uncaring thanks to the impassive face his quirk granted him. However, Naomasa knew better. After all, with similar years of experience to Naomasa, he understood Tamakawa was prioritizing processing the given information with a cold mind rather than letting emotions get the better of him. "If there were no leads inside, then it appears we had more luck on our side."

"Really?" Naomasa asked, understandably perking up at this new development. "What is it?"

"…It would be for the best if you saw it with your own eyes."

It was something big.

Even if his friend wasn't repeating the exact same warning as the junior officer, or his quirk wasn't telling him already that Tamakawa truly considered it the most efficient course of action to look by himself instead of any bias staining his perspective, Naomasa could have understood that this was something beyond an already nefarious crime. That even Tamakawa, who worked alongside him during the 'Villain Factory' case, seemed uncomfortable with what they found down there was telling of how important this was.

Just what in the world have we stumbled into?

Whatever it was, Naomasa was about to find out.

---

The walk down into the basement was straight and short. While that prevented any suspense from building up inside his head, it also gave him little time to prepare for whatever he was to find down there.

As such, in a morbidly ironic way, he could thank the insides of the house for preparing him against what had everyone so restless.

And for a just reason, he could see now.

The scene before him reminded Naomasa of the Creature Rejection Clan, a recently formed zealous anti-mutant cult known both for their violent behavior towards those who present any non-human traits and their constant involvement of religious memorabilia in interest in standing out among other groups.

This, however, made them look like children playing house.

For the sake of not altering any evidence, everything was left as it was found. That included illumination. Which, not so different from the building above, was mostly made out of half-used candles. Although with the single exception on the other end of the room, where a bulb was enlightening a table with all types of assortments he couldn't clearly define from his current position. Despite working, it was barely what could be defined as functional. Its constant flickering and low potency didn't help any more than the candles already did. That wasn't much, to say the least.

Also similar to what he had discovered in previous instances, the walls were tainted with life liquid. This time, though, its tone was clearer, with a more tolerant coppery smell and a humid taint to it.

Fresh blood. Naomasa noticed with concern.

However, despite the implications of that last detail, what truly put him on edge was what else decorated the sides of the room.

Despair!

Despair Over Tomorrow!

Despair Over The Unknown!

Despair Over Your Memories!

Despair For The Sake Of Despair!

Upupupu!

He had to squint his eyes while looking at each side to properly make sure he wasn't missing or misinterpreting anything, but eventually, after picking up one of the candles as support, he confirmed that those exact same lines repeated time and time again all around the room, like a sick mantra of sorts. And if that wasn't already having him enraptured, then the last detail plastered around those lines made sure of it.

Three circles, a large one and two smaller ones to the upper sides, all adjoined together. Symmetrically divided in two, with one side the purest of whites, while the other was a contrasting black. The first half resembled a child's drawing, with a simple black dot representing an eye and the first half of a snout pictured in it. The second, however, was a bastardization of the first. There was a snout, yes, but rather than mirroring its other half, it possessed a cartoonish and out-of-place grin that almost reached up to its ear. A similar case with his left eye. Rather than attempting to imitate the simple black dot, in its place, there was a jagged red lighting of sorts, and for the good of him, Naomasa couldn't figure out if it was paint or more blood.

Given the circumstances, he leaned towards the latter.

In any other context, Naomasa would've found all those poor attempts of a panda merely weird, perhaps even funny. Here, as a mocking contrast with the death and sorrow in his surroundings. As if revered like an Idol figure? It only demonstrated that whoever was behind this carried a darkness in their heart even some of the worst Villains he had the displeasure of meeting would be wary of.

Besides, that constant mention of despair…

Could it be?

Was this another reason why Tamakawa was being so discrete?

Because they have finally found a lead for that case?

"Sir, I think this might be of interest."

Naomasa suppressed the urge of flinching and abstained from snapping at his partner for surprising him. It was his fault after all. Watanabe's quiet nature wasn't a justification to get so entranced and let his guard down like that.

Instead, he turned and noticed Watanabe was near the only piece of furniture, with its light turning on and off giving him an eerie aura.

Seeing that there was nothing else requiring his attention, Naomasa did as he was asked and walked towards Watanabe.

An action that any lesser detective would've come to regret.

Getting closer to the table and finally acquiring proper sight of it made him realize two things.

One, in there laid down what was likely the most important lead in the entire house.

Two, he was beginning to envy Watanabe's quirk.

Constantly relying on raw experience to become unfazed at the worst sights this world had to offer wasn't as pleasant, or simple, as one might think.

Regarding the evidence lying on the desk…If there was any doubt that the Yasuda's were indeed the victims of the tragedy that took place in their own home, the seven skulls in front of him were the definitive proof no one could refute.

From the largest rodent's skull Naomasa had seen in his life, all the way down to the smallest and only human-shaped one. They all were lined by size in descending order. Worse than that, on each forehead was the same red bolt that bear had for an eye, almost as if presenting them like trophies, taunting him and the police for being far too late to do anything.

"Just when one might think they couldn't stop any lower, we stumble into something like this." Watanabe lamented, his gaze lingering until settling on a frown while looking at the smaller skull.

Naomasa didn't bother with a response, even if he agreed with the sentiment in its totality. Both because he thought it unnecessary to make idle talk, and because there was one…no, two details that had him occupied.

"Where is the eight one?"

"Sir?" Watanabe tilted his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The eighth skull," He elaborated. "You were with me when I interrogated the neighbors, right? Everyone I asked about it confirmed that the Yasuda's were a family of eight."

Watanabe's eyes quickly rose up in realization, "And yet, there are only seven, even when Captain Tamakawa pointed out that no one had added or removed anything. Either it is missing because the culprit had other plans for it, external circumstances made them lose it, or…"

"Or, we have found our first solid suspect." Naomasa finished for him.

"Right," Watanabe nodded in agreement. The older detective found himself approving how his junior's brows scrunched up in confusion, likely figuring out that things weren't so simple. "It is still strange, don't you think so, sir? Judging by the difference in size, we can assume the skull we are missing belongs to one of the three adults. With our current information, the most likely assumption we can make as of now is that it would belong to their eldest son."

"However," Naomasa began, following the same trail as his partner. "Even if we take at face value those rumors of him being a Villain, they all paint him as a petty thief, including the most vocal and controversial ones. So how do we go from that to doing all of what we have seen so far? Apparently, there were domestic issues going on, yet, it doesn't compare to this. The change still is so sudden and of such astronomical proportions to make any sense. How do we explain that, then?"

At that, Watanabe didn't utter a response. Despite that, mere moments passed before his eyes lingered on the second detail within the desk that had earned Naomasa's attention.

Surrounded by the skulls, almost as if in reverence, a bloodied notebook could be found.

A knowing look passed between him and his partner before Watanabe stepped aside to let him grab the item in question. A wave of relief passed over him when contact with it reassured him this was an actual and normal notebook, even if battered by the environment, not some…abomination that Naomasa wouldn't put past the responsible of all the misery around him.

Flipping it open, he began a thorough examination of its contents.

Reading the first page was sufficient enough for some alarm bells to grow in Naomasa's head. Things only worsened from there, with each passing page growing unnecessarily descriptive of details that, were he not a detective, would've thought better not knowing about.

It was quite informative, there was no denying that. Answering some questions he had been making to himself for quite a while, all the while it brought new theories to light. However, also made him realize that the situation was worse than he initially assumed. Especially because of that last page. A sense of panic and urgency filled him somewhere in the middle of reading it.

In conclusion, this notebook contained the best and worst news he had become aware of in the past months.

"I…I don't understand…" Watanabe, who consumed its contents alongside him, lifted the veil of silence that encompassed them for the last few minutes with the most confused voice Naomasa had heard from the young man. "All that talk of…of despair, of what this person did, and…what was that moniker? The Ulti―"

"I know it is a lot to process, but now is not the moment," Naomasa quickly interrupted his partner. It wasn't an exaggeration to suggest that, if the last page could be taken at face value, every second was of essence, if not already too late. "Go up the backyard, and inform Tamakawa that we need to set a perimeter in Shizuoka, Musutafu, Hosu, and Kofu. If he brings any complaints about being too much ground to cover on such short notice, then tell him that we could begin with the borders between Shizuoka, Musutafu, and Hosu so long as we get it done. Understood?"

Watanabe had a moment of hesitation towards the sudden command. Fortunately, he decided knowing better than to question his superior in a matter of sudden emergency like this one, and hurried out of the basement.

With his partner finally out of sight, Naomasa let out a tired breath. His eyes turned spent as they swept around the room until settling and narrowing on one of the many portraits of that monochrome bear he was quickly growing to dislike.

There was no doubt about it now. This incident was related to one of the largest cases in Japan's recent history.

Between three and four months ago, there was a sudden increase in crime rates that began spreading through Japan. At least a certain region of it. With a considerable number of villains growing bolder and more daring, terrorizing people on plain day regardless of All Might's increasing presence near the zone.

At least, that was the official version of events.

The truth though, while didn't dismiss anything of what was already known to the population, was more concerning and went far deeper. Each and every lawbreaker captured who coincided with the identified patterns shared one detail in common that only the necessary amount of people was aware of.

Mind control.

The source of all his and the police's most recent and biggest problems came from what was undoubtedly the strongest brainwashing quirk Naomasa had ever heard of.

Firstly, while in most brainwashing-related quirks it was only required to surpass a certain pain threshold to snap someone out of their daze, this case had been the exception. Worse than that, up to this date there hadn't been a method capable of neutralizing its effects.

Ideas have come up, but their lack of morality had made everyone wary of even suggesting the possibility of testing them.

That wasn't all, though. Besides the undying loyalty to follow any given order they all showed, this mysterious and extremely dangerous quirk had as a side effect pouring levels of insanity that made the victims unable to interrogate. Either because of the incoherencies they sputtered or their self-destructive tendencies made it preferable to leave them as restrained as possible.

Naomasa couldn't begin to count how many of them have tried to end their own lives moments before and during their capture…and he would prefer to not recall how many succeeded.

Neither the sudden and abnormal transition in their eyes while cackling in their last moments, as if relieved of their misery reaching a conclusion…

Finally, and what made it such a threat, was the lack of a limit on how many could fall under its clutches.

Six hundred and seventy-nine individuals deprived of any free will, and none of them were any less affected with each day that those numbers grow. The only reason panic hadn't settled on the streets was that, as far as the general population was aware, the number of 'actual' victims was relatively low.

Out of them, five hundred and thirty-four participated in the public displays of Villainy. Meanwhile, the rest were involved in profitable and illegal activities such as drugs, money laundering, trade of illegal weaponry, and support equipment. All in all, part of the meat and bones that sustained the operations that have taken the lives of seven Pros, twelve sidekicks, and fifty civilians.

With no whereabouts of the responsible despite looking through air, ground, and sea already, it was like facing off a hydra. As if with each individual arrest and raid at a facility, found out of nothing else other than lucky coincidences mind you, the mastermind behind all this brainwashed two more victims and grew new operations as if they were flowers magically spurring out of the ground.

It was sickening. A tragedy of monumental proportions. Beyond the deaths, which was already despicable in itself, the use of human lives in such massive numbers as if they were nothing but disposable tools that one could lay waste without any shame whatsoever was an affront of the highest caliber.

Yet, the lack of progress in their investigation forced Naomasa to admit that what at first glance might look like a brazen misuse of resources and human lives, was the careful investment coming from a sharp, pragmatic, and ruthless genius who thoroughly considered where to play even their less valuable pieces.

And for what? Along with such working methodology reminding Naomasa of him far too much for his liking, that question plagued his mind day and night ever since taking upon the case.

At least, until today.

While he had his reservations about blindly trusting the bloodied notebook, Naomasa couldn't ignore the breakthrough in the investigation that it potentially offered. Not after what he had learned from it.

First of all, and although they couldn't put a face yet, the notebook heavily implied that who was currently the most wanted person in Japan was a she.

That constant involvement with the concept of despair seemed to go beyond the correlation it had with her quirk. Admittedly, that was a piece of information he had already been suspecting for a while.

Most important of all discoveries, though, the hundreds of victims, the collateral damage, the web of illegal sub-operations that would make most villains drool, all those lives lost…

They had been nothing but a distraction.

A red herring for a plan that he didn't know anything beyond its existence and that it was taking place this very moment.

Both as a detective and member of the police, it was against everything he believed to stand idle when a crime was in the march and he carried the knowledge of its existence.

That being said.

Even if it was against his principles, and only because, hard pressed as he was to admit it, they likely were past the point of interfering, Naomasa Tsukauchi dared to hope beyond hope that whatever this Ultimate Despair was up to, fate poured its hands in and didn't allow her to come triumphant tonight.

---

"Achoo!"

"Eh? Are you okay, Junko?" Izuku asked in concern. "That was the second time now. You didn't catch a cold all of a sudden, did you?"

"Nah, this girl ain't gonna catch anything apart from a Villain! Well, you will, but you get what I mean." Walking at his side, Junko reassured him with a wave of her hand and a grin. "I think someone is wishing me ill, though."

"You think so?" Izuku grimaced at that. Superstitious as it might sound, he wouldn't put it past his classmates to not have anything better to do with their lives other than badmouthing him and Junko. Not even this late into the day.

"Maybe," Never being one to let others' opinions affect her, Junko gave a nonchalant response with a shrug. "More importantly, tho, how are ya feeling?"

His friend didn't require to elaborate on that; Izuku couldn't know what she was talking about any better than he already did.

Izuku's eyes went up to the sky, to its profound blue with a hint of a greyish palette. It was half an hour, maybe even less than that away from suddenly changing into the deep dark that would signal the coming of the night.

Normally, under no circumstances his mother would have ever allowed him to be out this late and as far from home, in addition to giving him an earful for even suggesting such a thing. It didn't help at all that, following their…disagreement on his future, things haven't got any better between the two.

Yet, for the hundredth occasion, Junko backed him up, coming up with an idea that allowed him to do as he pleased while his mother was incapable of doing anything about it, neither to suspect he was doing it in the first place.

About what said idea entailed, let's just be said that summer break couldn't have come handier.

Leaving those thoughts aside, unless he desired for his cheeks to burn in embarrassment at reminiscing about such implications, his gaze went down until landing on his surroundings, especially on the people he passed by. Noticing their chatty and energetic nature as they interacted with each other, and despite the reason why was quite obvious, it was almost…fascinating in its own way, how unaware they all were about what he, a quirkless boy, was meant to accomplish tonight.

Eventually, his sight lingered far ahead as they left the bright lights and conglomerated multitudes from Kofu's commercial district while nearing its less-visited corners, where their destination neared.

Where the test that will determine whether he truly was made to be a hero or not came closer with each step he took.

"I…am prepared as I can be," He finally settled on an ambiguous truth.

"Hey, c'mon now, Zuzu," Junko said, nudging his side in an encouraging manner. "You say that as if you were the total opposite of prepared."

"Sorry," Izuku apologized with a wince. "I guess the nerves were getting the best of me."

"Hmm, I guess that's to be expected." Junko conceded. "However, you hafta remember I have sewed ya up properly for this challenge, and I ain't only talking of all those months of training." She added with a smirk.

Some confidence came back to him when Junko reminded Izuku of that. The training was a godsend, of that there was no doubt. Plus, in addition to his growth, both mental and physical, and everything he had learned under her tutelage, these past weeks Junko erupted a new pillar with the addition of a hand-to-hand combat regimen.

However, beyond that, his friend had made sure of him not lacking in the equipment department either.

Beginning at the very bottom, his red shoes were replaced by lightweight blackened combat boots with red laces attached to them. Dark-grey cargo pants covered his legs with knee pads attached to each one, while midnight-tainted gloves with white spots on their knuckles made up for his handwear. His upper body, under an unveiled black hooded jacket with milky lines sketched on his sides, concealed a black V-neck shirt along with the sturdiest part of his attire. A chest protector that assured the safety of his vitals within the thorax.

Additionally…

His eyes went to his friend, appreciating the way she was dressed. A corset-waist hooded jacked, only without any extra protection whatsoever. Fingerless gloves, made to guarantee the safety of her pearly hands 'At least partially so…'. Her usually flashy crimson skirt was now dim black…and just a pair of inches larger. As for the footwear, it was a pair of boots similar to her standard ones, only without the heels. Same as him, Junko carried a duffel bag filled with essentials.

Matching the same colors as him, it was obvious such an outfit intended to parallel his own, only prioritizing far less the practical utility, while focusing on its fashion style. As expected of his friend, Izuku supposed.

It wasn't the everyday attire one would expect from teenagers, but with Junko's beauty and, as his friend had put it in the past, Izuku's natural non-threatening features, they didn't gather any more attention beyond the usual looks of fawning or envy thrown respectively.

Long since used to such glances, Izuku ignored it all without batting an eye. Far busier with the fact that having her at his side, almost as stacked as him in preparations, was a boost to his morale.

"You are right, Junko." Izuku began, a smile tugging at his lips. "I got this!"

"Now that's the vibe I am looking for!" Junko cheered, patting him on the back with enough force that would've caused the old him to stumble. "Give it your all, and before you could spell 'Monokuma!', you will be catching U.A. with its pants down!"

"Uh, I don't think schools wear pants in the first place, Junko…"

"'That so? In that case, we just hafta get one large enough all around their campus…then I pull it down and you catch the crime scene. Ha! They ain't seeing that one coming!"

Despite the weirdness and lack of any sense whatsoever in that commentary, Izuku couldn't help an enthusiastic hum in agreement while giving his friend a firm nod.

I get what she is trying to say. If I get to complete this trial by fire, the rest will be a matter of keeping up my pace without not letting my guard down. That way, I am sure I will succeed at getting into U.A., where Junko and I…Junko…

Izuku's thoughts came to a sudden halt. A sudden sentiment of dread surged, and only sheer will in combination with the awareness that this moment was amongst the worst to let it get the better of him, prevented Izuku from turning his mind into a chaotic mess.

"Junko," Izuku began, cautiously and with a hint of guilt in his voice. "Can…I ask you something?"

"Hm?" Junko raised an eyebrow before her entire face shifted into a concerned frown. "What's wrong?"

"Well…this whole time, you have done the impossible and more for the sake of making sure that my admission into U.A. is nothing but assured. I am grateful for that like you have no idea, but I was wondering…" Izuku licked his lips, suddenly feeling as if exposed to the harshest of deserts, before speaking again. "What about you, Junko? I'm sorry I am considering this until now, but what are your plans after that?"

He truly felt ashamed that he had been so inconsiderate that it took him such a long time to ask her about that. Sure, he had already attempted to inquire about her dream and had easily agreed to wait for the answer until she felt ready. However, this and that still felt like two different matters.

Besides, Izuku would be lying if he told himself that the idea of his and Junko's paths drifting away once he was officially a hero in training wasn't a terrific one. A scenario where, as years go by and his dream becomes more and more real, the existence that was Junko Enoshima becomes nothing more than a footnote in his story.

A world like that…I don't think I would ever be ready for such a possibility.

"Ah, didn't I tell ya? I will be aiming for U.A. too." Junko commented, in such a casual manner that it took him a full minute before realization of what she said to hit him like a California Smash.

"What!?" Izuku exclaimed, both confusion and excitement leaking out of this voice, even if it quickly tempered when he noticed it gathered some curious looks. "You will?"

"Hey hey, don'tcha remember what I told ya when we made our friendship official?" Junko questioned; an admittedly cute pout filled with fake annoyance forming on her face. "I didn't spend the last three months, and neither I will the incoming seven ones, training ya into my ultimate fluffy-haired villain-knocker machine just to throw ya at the first chance. As if!" His friend exclaimed, suddenly shaking her head to the sides with enough intensity that her pigtails were smacking her in the face. "No, nope, negative, denegado. I won't allow for our story to end that soon, and if me getting into Japan's most prestigious and demanding school is what it takes, then so bet it!"

"Junko…" Izuku whispered with fondness in his voice, and his already high estimation of his friend did the impossible and went further beyond by a tenfold. Boosted by the enthusiasm of hearing U.A. won't be the end of their relationship, he felt prompted to make his next question, "In that case, which course you will aim for?"

Chances of it being the general education department were abysmally low. Not to throw them any dirt, but Izuku highly doubted Junko would settle for something so, well, standard.

Junko was a natural for the administration of duties and handling of numbers, Izuku himself was living proof of that. It wasn't that hard to imagine his friend thriving in the management department.

Perhaps it was the support course? It might not seem like the perfect example, but the obstacle course was a testament to Junko's proficiency in tinkering. Besides, the chances of her amazing brain being capable of picking up essential subjects for the fabrication of support gear, like engineering and programming, were far from low.

It was so easy to imagine it, with Junko coming up with all sorts of gadgets and inventions that helped Izuku thrive, bringing out his entire potential in the hero course. Even further beyond that, once both graduated from U.A. their bond would go to such lengths that, together, they would set a precedent in Japan's history by acting as the founders of the first quirkless Hero Agency. A symbol that would assure, no matter who you were or how you were born, being a hero was at hand reach for anyone who put the effort for it.

It practically was a personal fantasy of his. No, an extension of his dream would be more accurate.

Either way, whichever alternative his friend felt like aiming at, Izuku would give it his entire support, just the same way she did the very day they met.

"Which one you ask? Well…" Bringing him out of his contemplations, Junko mused aloud, softly tapping her soft pink lips with her index finger while doing so. Her face began morphing into a mischievous one, and it wasn't until Izuku knew where things were going that Junko spoke again. "Sorry, Zuzu. I'm afraid that's gonna be a surprise for the time being~."

"Can I at least get a hint?" Izuku tried asking, even if he already suspected what she would say.

"Nope," Junko denied, with extra emphasis on the last syllable. "You would easily figure it out if I gave ya even the smallest of them."

"Right…" That forced a pout on Izuku's face. Leave it to his friend to have him hanging in anticipation of something like that. In hindsight, though, he should have seen it come from a mile wide.

Besides Junko teasing him for his reaction, their interactions settled down into far quieter ones. Bringing mundane topics back and forth for nothing else other than not letting their stroll be a suffocatingly boring one.

Time went by, and the last glimmers of sunlight died down. Fewer and fewer people occupied their once busy walk. Shops had their closed signs put at the front of their doors. And, as they continued on their stroll, their own voices became clearer for each other to hear as silence took overall control of Kofu's streets.

While Junko didn't disclose their exact destination, she made it clear they needed to reach somewhere that showed hints not being ideal to walk as late as they were doing, although without screaming immediate danger at the same time. His friend proposed Kofu as their optimal search point. Even if it was also a victim of those recent incidents, the city still had one of the lowest crime rates in the area, meaning only the least dangerous of villains, ergo those Izuku safely stood a chance against, roamed the vicinities.

Izuku would admit he wasn't that familiarized with the streets to a degree he could confirm how truthful such assessments were. After all, it was Junko, who did have years of experience in the subject, who proposed it.

That being said, this is Junko I am talking about. Of course the information can be trusted!

Reassured enough with that, he left those concerns to rest.

It wasn't until the moon, in all its full glory, took its rightful place at the sky's highest point, that Izuku noticed Junko slowing on her steps until finally stopping.

"Hmm, yeah, this place will do," Junko said, eyeing their surroundings with sharp eyes.

Izuku followed to do the same, carefully grasping what was likely meant to be his battlefield.

The most immediate detail he noticed was how isolated the location was. Beyond the occasional bark of a dog, there wasn't a single sentient soul in the vicinity. They were surrounded by buildings that were at least four stories high, covering the sides and the front. Making their current position a dead end.

Speaking of the edifications, none of them gave signals of being occupied. That wasn't to say Izuku doubted anyone lived in the perimeter, but every single window and door he laid his eyes upon was closed or covered from the inside out be it with curtains or a combination of grime and placed furniture, as if to purposely putting extra effort in blocking any light from leaking outside. The environment was far too quiet and empty when taking into account that they weren't that far into the night.

Overall, while it certainly gave the feeling of being a place unattended by Heroes and with its fair share of warning flags, Izuku would also admit the sights were far less concerning than the route to their Warehouse made base. Considering what they were looking for, Izuku supposed Junko was right about pointing out this was the ideal location to work with.

"So, what now?" Izuku asked, doing his best at keeping the bubbling nerves under control.

"Now," Junko began, with her gaze flickering at something in the distance. "I need you to follow me." Without waiting for a response, his friend began moving.

With no other streets besides the one that would turn them back from where they came, Izuku followed Junko onto the opposite lane, and down the only other pathway available, where he noticed the entrance to an alleyway.

No sooner they both were out of the street's sight, Junko crouched down while setting the bag on the ground. Similarly, Izuku did so as well with his own bag.

"This is it, Zuzu," Junko spoke, the sounds of her bag being rummaged all the while. "There won't be a parade, rather, it might pass without glory or recognition. However, what happens tonight will be the undeniable proof of what you are destined to be. You will go far and beyond what anyone dared hope from people like you and me."

"Of course!" Izuku exclaimed, his blood trembling with the anticipation Junko was pouring on him. "For both of our sakes, I won't disappoint you, Junko!"

"Mhm, I know you won't." His friend said, a fond voice welcoming his ears. "Now, where I put it…ah, here it is!"

At practically the exact moment, both he and Junko pulled the object they were looking for. Far from being a coincidence, it was the same item too.

Looking down, Izuku couldn't help taking a moment to appreciate it. Taking the shape of a bear, or a Monokuma as Junko nicknamed it, the monochrome mask in his hand was a symbol of the few good times that had just so recently come into his life. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he had grown almost as fond of it as Junko apparently was.

It was more than a trinket made to remind him of his friend and her blessings, though. Looking up at Junko, Izuku noticed she didn't waste her time.

"Upupupu!" With the mask already put on, Junko continued giggling with a pitch tone meant to mimic somebody else. The monochrome bear, if he had to guess. "Ready for the lesson, Mr. Midoriya?"

"Junko, I don't think this is the time to play around."

"Huh? Who's that? Sounds like a blast of a person, but can't say I've heard of her before." His friend continued, her voice childish and surprisingly leaning into sounding far more boyish than female. "No, no, I am Monokuma! And also, your―"

"I am serious, Junko," So he said, but Izuku's puffed cheeks gave away he was stiffening a laugh.

"I know~, I know~," His pigtailed friend said, finally dropping the act. "Although I suppose I don't hafta repeat to you the importance of these masks, have I?"

"No, you don't have to," Izuku shook his head, the seriousness of the situation dawning upon them once more.

He talked at length with Junko about his theory regarding how his quirklessness provided a loophole in the law regarding vigilantism. While she did agree with his logic, she also argued that it was best to play it safe and use the Monokuma masks as a means of concealing their identities. Junko also added that it was for the security of said identities, as there were many dangers with letting a villain know their faces.

Izuku saw no reason to argue against any of those points.

Although, if he had to point out a complaint, it would be that liking it or not, the mask certainly didn't scream heroic. Izuku would go as far as consider it bordering on villainous with how the black side and its red thunderbolt-like eye stood out in the middle of the night. Not like that was much of a problem though, he had long since accepted that using every tool at his disposal, all the while crossing the ambiguous line between inside and outside the law that most underground heroes ventured was going to be part of the course given his circumstances.

So long as it gave him a chance of throwing a helping hand at those who needed it the most…and Junko supported him, he was willing to partake in this shifty road.

With his mind readied, Izuku quickly stretched the straps behind the mask before pulling the face conceiver on him. While the design was a precise replica of the monochrome bear, same as his friend, on each of its eyes there were holes that allowed peering through without losing any visibility.

He wasn't done, though. Going back to his duffel bag, Izuku picked up a pair of things more.

The first of them. A burner phone.

The second. A set of brass knuckles.

"Alright then," While he was setting himself up, Junko took it as an opportunity to continue talking. Meanwhile also covering her strawberry blonde hair under her hood until only her pigtails peeked out of it. "Before getting into it, we need to clarify some stuff."

Izuku clenched and unclenched his fists, getting a feeling of the new equipment in his hands. Once satisfied with it, he hummed in contentment before straightening up and turning his gaze back to his friend. Waiting with rap attention for her to continue.

"For the past quarter of a year you and I have been a killer team," Picking up on the untold prompt, Junko spoke up. "And while I would love to say this occasion will also be a co-op exercise, this isn't the case. It is time to prove yourself. This is the moment for you and only you to shine, Zuzu."

"Right," Izuku gave a sharp nod. He wasn't surprised to hear all of that in the slightest. If anything, he was glad Junko wouldn't expose herself to danger.

"Of course, this isn't to say I am abandoning ya." Junko continued with a smug voice that quickly morphed into a far more serious one. "I will follow ya while keeping myself some distance away from you so as to not interfere. However, if things get outta control do not hesitate to call for help. Test or not, living to fight another way is a hundred times better than not, ya get me?"

"I…" He was about to protest, however, and even with the mask covering her face, one look at his friend and the aura she released told him there was no way to make her back down on that. With a sigh, he spoke in resignation, "Yeah, don't worry, Junko. I will shout if I need any assistance."

He will also have to give it his all and make sure he doesn't require said assistance in the first place.

"Hmm, I will take your word for it then!" Izuku could practically see the grin splitting on her face, that in itself making him sigh in relief. "Go make me proud!"

"I will!" His momentary spur of concern vanished with her words of encouragement. As motivated as he could be, Izuku grabbed his bag and hung it on a shoulder, turned on his heels, took a step forward, and―

"Ah, one more thing!" He almost stumbled at the sudden callout.

Quickly recovering, Izuku turned back to his friend one more time, "Yes…?"

There were a few moments of silence that made Izuku wonder if she would really say anything else. However, such doubts turned unfounded with an enthusiastic voice coming from his friend. "Have faith in your own skills. Don't allow yourself to be intimidated by what may linger out there. And do not forget to take every lesson I've taught you to heart. Do that, and I know you will come out victorious."

This time, he didn't say anything. With no more words necessary to be told, Izuku felt it would only ruin the emotive moment. He steeled his nerves and, with the most confidence he had ever felt in his life, he reassured his friend with a nod before departing into the darkness where his objective lingered.

Where he will make use of the hope Junko had deposited in him to fulfill his dream.

---

While the sound of steps muffled away, a voice spoke up.

"Haah, it was far more enjoyable than what I expected, but…this is it, huh?" The voice asked, at no one in particular. "Heh, to think I could still hold feelings like these. How…despairful."

No one said anything to that. Not like they expected to, anyways. They knew such words will be carried away by the wind until disappearing, with only their cursed mind, forced to never forget, keeping the bitter reminder as one amongst many others within the almost immeasurable lists of sins thorning their blackened heart.

"This is the moment you and I…we both bid farewell to all futures. Our futures."

Their eyes, filled with a storm of mixed emotions, lingered in the far distance. Where a naïve boy was, unbeknownst to him, about to destroy his hopes and dreams with his own hands.

---

As Izuku traveled through the maze of corners and turns that made the alleyway he and Junko got in, he came to the realization that even the localization where he had trained for the past months, was part of the training in itself.

Tall and imposing buildings, with their own shadows obscuring his path even with the few working sources of light stationed every now and then. Besides the rancid smell of wasted food and rusted materials coming from the occasional trash bin and junk littering the streets, which bothered his senses to no end, there was also the silence, turning more and more asphyxiating with each moment that passed.

The overall eerie sentiment such a place was causing him would've been enough for the old Izuku to jump and cry in fear at the slightest notion. Right now, though, they only put him on edge, with his guard ready to retaliate at whatever might come his way.

While neither Izuku nor Junko have ever suffered any incidents on their way to the warehouse, traveling back and forth through its passages and near streets, especially on those days when the skies obscured earlier than usual, had got him used to his current sights.

Involuntarily, his gaze went behind him, hoping to thank Junko for her insight into even the most inconspicuous of details.

Only to be met by a desolated pathway. With no soul in sight to make any movement or sound.

…Right, she said she was going to keep some distance.

Izuku took a moment to mentally praise his friend's stealth skills before shaking his head. There was no time to waste.

He walked and walked, losing the notion of time while doing so. How long did he keep at it? Minutes? Hours? Part of him was glad he hadn't encountered any evildoers yet. The fewer of them active, the more people were safe from their misdeeds. That being said, wasting all the training and preparation he had gathered for this very moment felt wrong in its own way.

By the time the first seeds of doubt began to creep up his body. He heard it.

It was muffled, barely noticeable from his current position. However, the sound was unmistakable.

A cry for help.

Increasing his pace as best as he could without making his presence known to everyone in the area, Izuku hurried in the direction where that came.

"…He…m…"

After taking another turn, he was beginning to make a degree of sense from the sounds. With it, a primal instinct that felt as if just awakened from a long slumber, made him dismiss some of the caution in favor of attending the distress call at least one moment faster.

It wasn't until turning a pair of corners later, where he had to force himself into a sudden halt before hiding behind a wall, that Izuku could not only hear the voice but also see its owner.

A few feet away from him, in a large and seemingly open area, a redheaded woman in his late twenties was being pinned against a wall. A gloved male hand holding her in place by the throat.

"Don't make me repeat myself again, woman!" The culprit in question, a blue-haired man of similar age, perhaps some extra years older than the assaulted judging by his voice, demanded. "You will come with me without putting any resistance, or else you will get to see me truly getting rough."

"P-Please, no…" Hearing such helpless plead made him seethe with indignation. What was worse though, Izuku noticed how the man was beginning to growl at such a response. Clearly, that wasn't what he wanted to hear.

Unfortunately, it seemed he also arrived at the worst possible moment. There was no telling what the villain would do now after receiving that rejection, and with the vulnerable position the woman was already finding herself in, Izuku had no time to go with the slow and smart route.

Quickly leaving the bag on the floor, Izuku ran with loud steps out of his hiding spot, successfully making the villain pause when he was about to retaliate against the redheaded lady.

"Y-You," He mentally chided himself for the stutter. Rapidly recomposing himself, Izuku raised his voice. "You! Leave her alone!"

"Huh!? Who the shit is…" With his head now snapped back in Izuku's direction, the blue-haired adult trailed off. Having a closer look at him, Izuku could see that beyond his scruffy blue hair, there wasn't anything remarkable about the man in front of him. Nothing to point out about his face beyond how badly shaved it was. His attire was more or less what anyone would expect from a thug. Disheveled brown cargo pants along with an open grey jacket that covered his dirtied tank top. Concerningly enough, nothing about him gave a hint regarding his quirk.

Although, there was something else beyond the physical details.

It was the way he was looking at him.

Actually, watching carefully, both the adults were staring at him. He supposed it was normal to be the center of attention when he presented himself like that. However, Izuku couldn't quit the idea that there was…something off about their gazes. They felt empty, yet so intense at the same time, weird as that might sound. Izuku felt twice as unnerved by the woman's sudden stillness.

"Hey, who the heck are you?" The villain's sudden callout brought Izuku out of his stupor, making him look back one more time and notice that, at least in the villain's case, his stare shifted back to normal.

How weird…

It didn't matter. It was better to chalk up what just happened as both being caught off-guard by the mask. Chances are the woman suffered a shock at seeing it. Even with his bias, Izuku already admitted it could be somewhat unnerving at these hours.

Steeling his gaze, Izuku retorted at the man, "Who I am doesn't matter, just let go of that woman!"

The villain's eyes narrowed, then they lingered between him and the woman. He drawled the gesture for what felt like entire minutes. When Izuku was about to snap at him one more time, the blue-haired man did something he admittedly didn't see coming.

He did release the woman.

Without saying a word, the redheaded lady gave a still impassive stare at her assaulter. Then, just as silently, she stormed off away from both him and the villain, disappearing into obscurity.

Some small part of him thought it was a bummer that his first person to save didn't even consider it fit to say a brief thank you. The rest, however, was giddy at the prospect of actually saving someone!

That didn't quit what was bothering him, though.

"You…let her get away?" Izuku couldn't help asking, dumbfounded. Sure, it was good that the man did so, but he didn't expect it to be that easy.

As if the piles of oddities weren't big enough, the villain's eyes widened, looking like he just realized doing so.

"…Ah, I did." He nonchalantly said, as if the villain doing so wasn't strange at all. "I had plans of taking her to have some fun, but y'see, one could say I have this…fixation of sorts."

"Fixation?" Izuku asked, both wary and disgusted at hearing what he intended with that poor woman.

"Mhm, y'see, heroes are already bad enough, but young and delusional pretenders like you? They disgust me to no fucking end." The evildoer sneered. "Oh yeah, with that voice, you ain't fooling anyone. I know what ya are too, brat. Some good-for-nothing kiddo who let himself be gaslighted by all those spandex-obsessed doofus into thinking they could take the world in the palm of their hands, rushing headfirst towards danger, facing death when they just barely have learned to shit without a diaper. Glorified child soldiers in all but name…it ain't' fucking hilarious?"

Although some of his words made Izuku stiffen for a moment with how they hit some nerves, Izuku didn't give him a response. Instead, the green-haired boy readied into a combat posture.

Izuku wasn't going to bite the taunt. If he didn't fell for the provocations of his tormentors back at school, he sure as hell wasn't going to do so under this stranger who was in no position to point out rights and wrongs.

"Not hookin', huh? Shame. Ya think to have what it takes to play hero then, kiddo? To face their daily struggles and the consequences of failure?" The villain mocked with a grin, which quickly enough shifted into a vicious snarl. "Well, enough chit-chat then," With one hand, he rummaged the insides of his jacket until bringing a pocket knife out of it. "Let me give ya a taste of bitter reality and its despair!"

With his body tensed and his gaze sharpened to not miss the slightest of movements, Izuku waited for his opponent to take the initiative. While for normal circumstances having the offensive in his favor seemed ideal, he lacked any information about the villain's quirk to do so.

Following the minute mark, with the villain deeming that enough was enough, he finally went on the offensive, making Izuku's patience pay off.

Or so Izuku would say if the villain's first move hadn't been to snap his fingers and suddenly disappear.

What!?

Frantically, Izuku's eyes darted in every direction, trying and failing to locate the villain. His mind just as well going haywire.

What kind of quirk I am fighting against!? Is it invisibility? Shrinking himself to the size of an ant? Molecular even? Perhaps something more complicated, like hiding in the shadows? Do I watch my step, or focus my hearing so I can―

It was through raw reflexes developed in the past quarter of a year that allowed Izuku to duck in time when he saw the first hint of movement in front of him, preventing his face from getting smeared with a knife.

Without wasting a moment, Izuku slid his left leg against one of the villain's shins, hoping to throw him off balance.

Such hopes crumbled when, as soon as he appeared, the blue-haired man vanished with a snap before Izuku could make contact.

Again!?

Quickly standing up, Izuku took some steps back while eyeing his perimeter. This time around, trying to notice any distortion within his surroundings in hopes of anticipating where the next blow would come.

Unfortunately, while he managed to barely avoid a slash on a second occasion, he once again missed his opportunity to attack. One moment the man was there, and the next he popped back into inexistence.

He did it thrice by now, so I am confident his quirk activates when he snaps his fingers, but he's fast…way too fast to take any advantage of that!

The mortal dance with his opponent kept at it for some minutes more.

Shifting his body left and right, barely avoiding the front stabs sent at him. Jumping and ducking whenever his opponent showed the barest hint of creativity. Each and every occasion with far too little of a time window before the villain could make contact for Izuku's liking.

It wasn't until a pair more of close calls later, after noticing how the villain disappeared, followed by either closing or making distance at his will, that Izuku finally understood what he was working against.

Teleportation!

Not what could be considered a flashy one, but nevertheless it was a quirk far more powerful than what even his least optimistic assumptions dare think for a first battle.

When that realization finally registered to him, self-doubt began to creep up his brain through the continuation of the fight. Flopping his reflexes, hesitating in his attacks, and getting distracted with unnecessary thoughts, among other small details that dimmed his performance bit by bit.

And, eventually, such faults turned into costly mistakes.

Following a misstep that made him unable of reacting fast enough to dodge in time, Izuku let an involuntary hiss when he felt something roughly reach the upper area of his body. He threw a hand in retaliation which, much to his annoyance, did nothing else beyond scurrying his opponent away, if only because he disappeared once more.

Looking down, Izuku grimaced at his clothes torn across his chest area, some thick plate poking out of it. If Junko hadn't acquiesced to him with that chest protector, he would have already been one foot out of the fight.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" Snapping his head up, Izuku saw the villain already some noticeable distance away from him. "It ain't longer fun and games, eh?"

"It never was." Izuku sneered back. However, for all the bite he could show on the outside, he couldn't deny he was beginning to grow frustrated with his current situation.

"Hm, 'that so?" The teleportation user said, his voice full of disinterest. "No use in holding back then."

For the umpteenth occasion, Izuku lost sight of the villain, and with that, his struggle resumed.

His overly defensive stance was becoming less and less favorable. With each successful evasion, he was forced to pay a taxing cost in his stamina. His breath became growingly erratic, with beads of sweat tickling his face, and his entire body was increasing in temperature.

However, despite his growing exhaustion becoming notorious, what Izuku truly considered most unfortunate was that with each failed attempt, his confidence suffered a hit. Turning his psyche more and more into a turmoil of confusion and desperation.

Damnit! How can I beat this guy!? No matter where, when, or how I try to hit him, he always disappears. Do I even stand a chance against a quirk like this one? What can I―AAARGH!

With a shout, Izuku was forced to recognize the grim consequences of his incessant overthinking. A sharp pain with no comparison to the previously mitigated hit flared all his senses. Glancing at his side, Izuku couldn't help a wide stare at his right shoulder, where blood began leaking out through a clean and not-so-small cut.

Worse of all, that distraction in itself was another mistake.

"GAH!"

Rather than teleporting one more time, the villain took advantage of his temporary stupor to land a heavy kick at the center of Izuku's stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs while launching him a few feet away. With a ponderous thud, he slammed against a wall, hitting his head with it in the process. Multiple clanking sounds made themselves known when Izuku slumped with some nearby trash cans before falling to the ground.

In a single combo, the teleport user all but defeated Izuku.

This villain, is he truly this strong, or…am…am I that weak…?

His head became fuzzy. His breath labored. He wasn't able to trust his now-waning senses, and he could feel protests all around his body.

This entire time…were they all right about me…? Was Junko…in the wrong?

With his still ringing ears, he noticed the faint sound of steps coming his way. Weakly shifting his gaze up, emerald eyes meet crimson ones.

Huh…were his eyes always that color?

However, when Izuku became obscured by his opponent's shadow, rather than throwing some speech to bask in his victory or closing the distance and finishing the job, the villain stood there.

Shaking.

"Why…?" Izuku barely heard the villain whisper. It sounded…distressed. As if he was the one in Izuku's position. "Why someone like you…why not me, or…or any of us. The most glorious of all despairs, why…you…" Despite how mortifying that should be sounding, Izuku couldn't bring himself to dwell too much about it. Not when both body and mind demanded to already give up.

Was this really it?

Was this as far as someone like him can go?

…

…

…

…No.

This can't be how his journey ends.

How could he surrender when it was just about to begin?

I refuse to accept that!

Not so far from here, there was a girl who already refused to follow what this society considered the natural laws of the world. For the past three months, she had defied everyone's expectations time and time again for the sake of giving him a chance at realizing his dream.

How could he dare to even consider failing someone like that!?

Even if it was the last thing he did before breathing his last breath, he won't defraud her!

"That…no, nothing of those things matter, what's important is to…to bid their will and follow the scr…the…Yeah, that's right." Seemingly coming back from…whatever nonsense the villain was babbling about, the blue-haired man shook his head before looking down at him. "Alright, kiddo. It was fun, but I ain't feeling like playing around! Be a good brat and allow me to kill ya nice and easy!" The teleportation user shouted, rushing at him with his knife at the ready. Whether at Izuku's throat, through his mask, or anywhere else, it didn't matter.

Izuku wasn't going to let him.

"THIS IS NOT OVER!" With his second wind at its peak, Izuku released a euphoric shout that made the villain flinch.

Have faith in your own skills.

He made use of the precious moments that stunt bought to grab one of the trash lids that fell with him and threw it with all his strength, aiming directly at the evildoer's head.

Unsurprisingly, the blue-haired man recovered fast enough to teleport away from the round projectile. Far from discouraged, Izuku counted on it.

Don't allow yourself to be intimidated by what may linger out there.

Rapidly, Izuku got on his two feet and without a moment of pause began to run as fast and as far away from his previous location as possible.

"Did ya finally shitted yer pants, brat!?" The villain shouted from behind him. Coming to a sudden stop, Izuku turned back and saw where did his opponent reappeared. He also noticed the teleport user was no longer near the trash bins.

However…

Rather than having him on his talons like Izuku initially expected, there was some considerable distance away between the two.

And do not forget to take every lesson I've taught you to heart.

So far, Izuku had been looking for visible clues that could allow him to see the attacks coming.

But, what if instead of doing that, he attempted to figure out patterns?

Do that, and I know you will come out victorious.

"Not gonna dignify a response, kiddo?" The teleport-user asked, seemingly done with Izuku's silence. "I'm hurt~."

"…" Although that didn't make Izuku say anything either. He was satisfied enough with the only gesture for the villain to receive being his narrowed eyes.

"Tch, trying to act the silent savior? Here I come then!" The blue-haired man shouted until, with no warning whatsoever, he disappeared.

He did it again!

No sooner he disappeared, Izuku restarted his sprint while counting on his head.

One second.

Nothing.

Two seconds.

Nothing else beyond the sound of Izuku's own boots.

Three seconds.

And that was when Izuku heard it.

A second set of soles hit the ground, following immediately with a snap of fingers.

Sure enough, just a side glance behind him was enough for Izuku to confirm the villain had reappeared. However, that wasn't enough. He had to test his theory a pair of times more.

With his mind and body prepared, he repeated the process.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

Thud. Snap.

One, two, three.

Thud. Snap.

"Stop running and fight me like a man, bastard!" Izuku almost had to suppress a grin upon hearing the villain's protests.

It really is as I suspected!

Izuku had no doubt about it now.

Three seconds. His blinks have a set duration of three seconds.

It couldn't be any less than that. Otherwise, he would have long since shortened the time between his blinks. Anything past three seconds was also unlikely. In that case, no doubt the villain would have used the prolonged periods of faux-invisibility to ambush him.

There still was something bothering Izuku, though. Why was he yet to close the distance between the two?

Could it be that rather than teleportation, his quirk was some sort of quick step with a set limit of speed, or…

Was the limit on how far could he travel with his blinks?

Only one way to find out.

With his feet firmly set on the ground, Izuku came to a stop before turning back and waiting until the teleport user landed at a safe distance away from him.

"What's your deal, huh!?" With signs of frustration and a ragging in his breaths Izuku could've sworn wasn't there moments ago, the villain snapped. "Was all that gung-ho about being a righteous vigilante just a ruse to experience first-hand how it felt to be chased by a villain? Those are some weird hobbies, I tell ya!"

Again, Izuku didn't bother with a response. This time around, though, he raised his fists and a knee.

"Hmph, at least it seems you are done running away." His opponent said, no sooner blinking into non-existence again.

First, I have to let him close the distance.

With his posture intact, Izuku waited.

One second.

Two seconds.

At two seconds and a half, he ducked down, dodging his attacker's sharp strike with a larger window of opportunity than he could have previously accounted for. Predictably, just as he had always done and without waiting for any retaliation from Izuku's part, the teleport user disappeared away.

Now let's try one meter.

This time, rather than standing still, he jogged backward until reaching his wished range. He might not be at Junko's level of smart, but calculating a meter of distance without any measurement units at hand, even in the middle of combat, was within his capabilities.

He should appear just about…now!

Izuku sidestepped mere moments before reaching the three-second mark.

"Die!" It was fortunate that he did, otherwise, his opponent's knife would've gashed his back.

Too close, then what about two meters?

"Perish!" The knife almost grasping his ear told him that no, he wasn't there yet.

Not enough. Three meters, perhaps?

"SUBMIT TO THEIR WILL AND DESPAIR!" It was through a tuck jump, with his legs clutched to his arms, that Izuku dodged that one. He would admit the biggest factor that allowed him to avoid that third attack was sheer luck.

Taking the initiative, rather than fruitlessly attempting to counterattack, once he landed on the ground Izuku began reverse jogging as rapidly as he could. He was practically running in all but name as the villain blinked for the umpteenth occasion.

Four meters…I have a good feeling about that.

By that point, his legs were already burning with fatigue. Sudden bursts of speed took far more of a toll than if he was just sprinting at a controlled pace, and his shoulder being a constant source of pain wasn't helping in the slightest. However, there was no denying that for this match-up, it was the only card he could effectively play.

He could still keep at it for a little while longer, though. After all, working under stamina-burning sessions had become a norm through Junko's training.

And, most important of all…

When he finally heard the characteristic pair of soles signaling the reappearance of the villain, and Izuku saw where he currently was, it made him understand all that effort had been worth it.

Seeing the teleport user one meter away from him, Izuku was glad the monochrome mask was able to hide the ear-to-ear grin that formed on his face.

Bingo!

A teleportation-type quirk set on a three-second timer that allows free horizontal movement within a max perimeter of three meters. Perhaps it lacked utility for traveling, but his recent experience had cemented for Izuku to not underestimate it at close-quarters combat.

That being said, renewed confidence crept through Izuku's body with the acquisition of such knowledge.

This information…yeah, I could work with it.

"Aaargh! God fucking dammit!" Just in time, apparently. It seemed Izuku had wasted most of his opponent's patience. "Run! Dodge! Run! Dodge! Are ya planning to keep this damn catch-and-flee game all night!? Doin' nothing but chickenin' out like the coward ya are!?"

"…No."

"Huh?" The teleport user blinked, tilting his head in slight curiosity. "So, you finally bothered to say something…"

"I have," Izuku said, straightening his back while resting his clenched fists on the sides. "I will also stop running away. No more fleeing, not anymore." He declared with all the conviction he could muster. "Not from you. Not from those who look down on my dreams. Not even from my own fears and insecurities. For my sake and that of the girl who always believed in me, never again! I will no longer back down on my ideals!"

Restrictions or not, his blinks could occur anywhere within his kill zone and happen with a regularity for which I don't have the superspeed, muscle enhancements, or anything for that matter that could help me reach him on time if he sees it coming. He doesn't know that I know his exact limitations, but that means I will only catch him off-guard once. After that, it will be a battle of attrition where, with him moving as he pleases, his upper hand during the first half of the fight, and my injured shoulder still hurting, I don't hold any hope in coming victorious from.

All of that intel set together, made Izuku reach a single conclusion.

If I don't finish this in a single hit, I am a goner!

"Come at me!" Izuku shouted with renewed vigor. "Whatever it is you want to throw at me, I will face it head-on!"

"Hah!? Didn't ya already try that bullshit?" That made Izuku tense. However, before panic could begin to set in, the villain continued. "Y'know what, whatever. Let's chalk it up as your little pretty speech convincing me to bite it. Not like it will help ya anyways. Besides…if ya fluke it again, I have permission to properly punish ya for it~."

Permission? Punish me? What does that…no, it doesn't matter.

If someone else was with him, they would have already interfered. Either he was trying to intimidate or distract him.

Shaking those thoughts away, he refocused on the fight at hand. For what was likely the last occasion tonight, Izuku readied his upper body into a combat stance. Meanwhile, he began to carefully slide his feet backward.

"Peh! You goddamn one-trick pony. As if I didn't already know that was your signal for fleeing like a bitch. So much for those last precious words, eh? I would say our short meeting was pleasant," The blue-haired man said with a smile, although soon enough it morphed into an irritated frown. "But you were an insufferable and squirmy piece of shit from beginning to end. There won't be any despair in turning your face into a knife block. That being said…don't waste my time and die for good!" With those last words, he disappeared.

It was good that Izuku also took them like the firing of a starter gun, shifting his legs in their totality and taking a turn, bolting on the villain's opposite location at the very exact time he disappeared.

Burning his legs without an ounce of care, he burst as far as they could take him in as little time as possible.

One and a half seconds. Three and a half meters.

Satisfied with how much distance he made, Izuku spun around. There was no time for proper techniques, stances, or for any flashy moves of the sort. Instead, Izuku did nothing more other than stretching his right arm as far back as possible while clenching his hand into a fist.

An ordinary punch, at the hand of an ordinary boy.

Two and a half seconds. This is it.

In the name of his dream.

Yes, I believe you can become a Hero…

In the name of his friend.

Give it your all, and before you could spell 'Monokuma!', you will be catching U.A. with its pants down!

In the name of everything she had represented in his life…

TAKE THIS!

"Ha! You didn't get far e―"

"Monokuma Smash!" With a roar, Izuku launched the strongest right hook he could muster, hitting bullseye dead center in his opponent's nose. He punched as he had never before. Ignoring the protest in his still-open injury. Ignoring how he poured so much strength that his shoulder dislocated.

There was a muffled scream in pain, and with a combination of the power used in the strike along with the extra hit coming from the brass knuckles, a cracking sound followed before the villain was sent flying. Landing some feet away into the ground with a resounding thud.

For a moment, the only sound that interfered with the otherwise silent surroundings was that of his labored breaths.

Did…Did I get him for good?

Izuku waited and waited some more, and it wasn't until he deemed having let enough time pass by, with the villain still not doing so much beyond a twitch here and there, Izuku allowed a sigh of relief.

"Hehe…" He quickly came to regret doing that upon hearing the laugh escaping his opponent's mouth.

It's not over yet!?

Despite the dread building up in his body, Izuku attempted to maneuver his arm like he previously did. Attempted, as in his arm did nothing but protest against it.

Damnit! I can't repeat my previous stunt with my shoulder as it is. I would waste some precious time fixing it up, and he could teleport back into action anytime now. Worse than that, there's no way he will fall for that again!

What was he supposed to do now!?

"The…ors…"

Just when Izuku was about to wrack his head for any ideas, every thought came to a halt when he heard the villain speak. Looking down, he itched a breath at the sight.

With his head now raised up, the villain's crimson eyes were gazing directly at him. Izuku could practically see the eerie aura they carried while doing so.

"Hehe…oh, the horrors that await you, how…hehe…envious I am…" As soon as those words ended leaving that man's mouth, his eyes rolled up before his head hit the ground.

…Huh?

It seemed like he truly was done for good, with that strange declaration spending his last bits of strength.

Not like Izuku stood still to confirm it.

Firstly, he used his healthy limb to take hold of his dislocated one and stretched it above his head until a satisfactory pop was heard. Basking in the temporary relief that brought, he rushed to the corner from where he came before his fight with the villain. Once coming upon sight of his duffel bag and wasting no time in reaching down for it, he rummaged through its contents.

Setting aside a set of spare clothes, he grabbed a first aid tape and stored it in his jacket. Izuku knew he should be using it right about now to stop the, even if now considerably slow, still ongoing bleeding on his shoulder. However, there was one more thing he needed to do before Izuku could officially claim everything was over.

"For that, I am going to need…ah, here they are!" Izuku said after picking up what he was mainly looking for. A pair of ropes. With them in hand, he hurried back towards the villain, glad at seeing his momentary absence had cost him.

Gazing around, further relief washed over him when he spotted a pair of solid-looking pipes creeping from one of the surrounding buildings.

Dragging an unconscious teleport user and using a pair of ropes on him later, the villain in question had its upper body and arms completely bound through the ducts. Plus, to guarantee he didn't were to get into any funny business, Izuku cut part of the second rope with the knife the villain left, used the larger part to tie the still uncovered areas of his arms and the shorter one to bound his fingers in a manner that prevented him from flexing his fingers in any manner whatsoever, thus disabling his quirk. There was the possibility that his quirk didn't allow him to move past solid objects, but neither did Izuku have the chance to prove it during the fight nor he was tempted to do so now.

It wasn't perfect, but he had to make do with what he had. With his unconscious state, in combination with the bounds keeping him in place, that should buy enough time for the police or a pro in patrol to find him.

Now that I think about it, I should―Ow!

With adrenaline finally wearing down, not only his accumulated exhaustion began to creep in, but his luckily only real injury sent him a jolt in agony. Izuku's wince in pain turned into a sheepish expression when his eyes flickered to his shoulder and all that blood smeared most of his right arm.

Junko is going to chew me out for this, isn't she?

While bringing the medic tool out of his jacket and rolling its tape around his shoulder Izuku stared down at his handiwork, both cautious of the man still being up to something. One last trick, anything. It just so happened he still had a hard time grasping it.

The idea that he, Izuku, the quirkless boy no one but a single person had any hopes for, had done what this world considered impossible, was still registering in his mind

But…it was true, wasn't it? The man in front of him was the definitive evidence that without the use of any quirk, with the right coaching and training regimen, Izuku had proven himself capable of doing exactly that.

There were so many things Izuku wanted to do at this very moment. He wanted to scream in euphoria. He wanted to laugh and celebrate what he had achieved tonight. He wanted to cry and release the pent-up frustration accumulated for more than a decade.

And yet, before he allowed himself to go with any of that, a memory came back to him.

It's not only their quirks you should worry about, Zuzu. Even if they seem defeated, checking for hidden gimmicks in their belongings is never a waste of time. One can never be too cautious when it comes to people like them.

It was one of the first words of wisdom she gave him today after leaving her apartment. Simple, yet the importance they held was not to be undermined.

And I almost forgot about them anyways…

He supposed that it could be justified by the recent chaos he faced. Nevertheless, now that he remembered it, Izuku couldn't let something like tiredness and an injured shoulder stop him now. Restrained or not, Junko was right.

There was no way Izuku would be making a mistake by taking those extra cautions.

Once satisfied by his self-ministrations 'I'm sure Junko could do a better job, but this will have to do for now…', Izuku stored back the tape and approached the villain. He began with his shoes, taking them off and shaking the footwear with the intent of dropping whatever hidden content they might store. When that didn't give any results, he began feeling up his pants, beginning from his ankle, all the way to the pockets in his thighs and rearguard. Surprisingly, that also ended in a negative. Izuku was sure he was going to find that lady's wallet, seeing the assault looked like having some time underway already. Neither there was the villain's own wallet, although Izuku wasn't sure about how often criminals had them or not on their possessions. He would have to ask Junko about that later. Finally, he reached for his jacket.

Izuku didn't know whether consider it bad or good news, but it didn't took him long to find a bulge there. Carefully inspecting the insides of the jacket, Izuku noticed the lump came from a zipper pocket on its left side. Most concerningly, even hidden underneath it, he could see that the mysterious object was far from small. With a sense of foreboding creeping up to his psyche, he unzipped the pocket and rummaged inside it.

"What the!?" He visibly recoiled and drew his hand back when he felt the general shape of the object in question. Izuku hesitated pouring his hand in there one more time. At least, until he remembered why he was doing that in the first place.

If that was what he thought it was, Izuku had all the more reasons to make sure it wasn't in the villain's possession. With an audible gulp, he quickly shoved his fingers forward, grabbed the metallic gadget, and retrieved it out of the blue-haired man's pockets.

Even if it was amongst his greatest suspicions, Izuku was unable to prevent an audible gasp from escaping his mouth. Beginning with a black handle, the curved object was followed by a series of mechanisms, with a six-holed cylinder in between. The second half of its composition finished with a large tube accompanied by a single hole at its forefront.

A handgun.

Millions of questions raced through Izuku's mind. Convoluted and confusing to the point they were making him dizzy. However, among all of them, one stood further than the rest, it was so loud he had no choice but to address it first and foremost.

Why didn't the villain made use of it?

Don't get him wrong, Izuku was glad that he didn't. With how much of an advantage the villain had at the beginning of the fight, forget about winning, Izuku wouldn't have lasted half as much as he did.

That was the thing, though. There was nothing stopping that man from rather than going melee, to get some safe distance away and firing before Izuku had any hope of doing anything about it. Izuku was sure not even the protector in his chest would have saved him from that.

Now that he had some respite to think clearly about it, Izuku was growing concerned with his overall interaction with the teleport user. Strange wouldn't even begin to describe him. Sometimes he had this smug attitude only for the next moment to get hysterical, shouting curses at Izuku.

As if he was trying to force himself into a character of sorts.

It wasn't only his overall personality. Didn't he even wonder for a moment why Izuku did not use a quirk at any point? With how conversational the villain presented himself, along with his distaste for 'reckless' youngsters like him, Izuku was expecting at any moment for the man to begin taunting him about the possibility of having a useless quirk, or accurately assuming he was quirkless.

And the cherry atop this mystery cake was without a doubt those weird instances in which he began mumbling to himself. Both when he had Izuku cornered, and with those… ominous last words.

Hehe…oh, the horrors that await you, how…hehe…envious I am…

Involuntarily, Izuku's gaze went down to the man, trepidation growing with each moment it lingered on him. He talked of a terrible fate awaiting Izuku yet also said how he longed for it.

What kind of threat was that? Why did it feel like something dangerously important about this was going past him? Could it be that he had stumbled into something far larger than an ordinary assault?

It was all too confusing, and as much as Izuku wanted to get answers about it, he had overstayed his welcome in these streets. In the best scenario, some underground hero will discover him like a child with his hands in a cookie jar. At worst, he could expect company of the same kind as his previous opponent anytime soon.

For now, I should retreat, then have a talk with Junko about this. It's likely she will have a better idea about what to do.

Satisfied with that plan, Izuku brought his free hand down to his own jacket and picked up the burner phone he brought with him. Before moving away from his handiwork, it was important to have the proper authorities take care of the villain.

While he was dialing up the numbers for the police, a smile tugged Izuku's lips. Despite his most recent concerns, it was hard for him to deny how excited he was with tonight's overall results.

I did it!

I saved a life.

I defeated the villain.

I completed the graduation clause.

No, more important than that, I…I…I became a―

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Izuku flinched and his senses flared with alert upon hearing that ear-piercing scream. Whatever joy he carried with him died a quick death, and nausea churned in his stomach with how easily he discerned the fear and despair leaking out of such eldritch sound he barely recognized as female.

Wait a moment…female…?

For a moment, his mind wandered to the possibility that the lady he rescued some minutes ago had the misfortune of finding herself one more time at the clutches of an evildoer. However, such an idea died with the fact that the scream was heard in the opposite direction from where she ran toward. Rather, its true origins came from where Izuku…where…where he…came…

The mother of all shivers ran down his spine and a primal surge of horrific realization crept through his body.

JUNKO!

The bag and everything not already in his possession being damned, Izuku ran as he had never done. Not even when his life was at risk some moments ago. He stumbled and crashed against walls and littering debris each on every occasion he took a turn, but he couldn't bring himself to care beyond cursing the time they wasted him.

Tell me this isn't happening. It can't be what I think what it is, I…that's it! Am I just dreaming, right!?

Delusional as his mind was turning, his body was doing its absolute best at working on autopilot. Jumping obstacles. Taking turns only when needed. Whatever was necessary to get closer to the origin of that scream as fast as possible.

Eventually, though, he was forced to a halt we he reached a crossroad, with three different roads opening up before him.

Shit! Which path do I take!?

"Wh-Where are ya takin' me!? Let me go, dipshit!"

But…but…a nightmare…

It took every ounce of Izuku's will to not become paralyzed when he recognized the now clearer defiant roars of his friend. Instead, he went beyond what someone in his condition could have and rushed in the direction he heard her.

I am just having nightmare. I am just having a nightmare. I am just having nightmare. I am just having a nightmare.

Each following shout acted as a torturous anchor. Their deterioration from fierce protests to frightened whimpers was a growing ache thorning his heart with each passing moment.

Y-Yeah, this…this is nothing but a nightmare from which I need to wake right about now!

Izuku knew he was getting closer, if only because the sickening screeches of gurgling laughter joined into the nerve-breaking symphony. He could practically hear the taunting noises just around the corner.

They aren't real! Once I take a turn, I know that I will meet Junko leaning against a wall waiting for me, with a beaming smile gracing her lips before it turns into one of pure delight and pride once she hears what I have achieved. Both of us will cheer, we will laugh, and with the moon shining upon us, we will walk shoulder by shoulder, to celebrate our future.

Unable to distinguish reality from fantasy, Izuku's lips began twitching upwards. Regardless of the fear and the anguished tears leaking out of his sockets, Izuku allowed a hopeful smile while spinning around a corner. His lifted lips turned a tad more genuine when, just as he suspected, he caught sight of Junko.

"Z-Zuzu…?"

Only for his grin to shatter the very next moment, with any naïve optimism he held beforehand turning into a hollow void of hopelessness.

His friend was there, yes. At the same time, though, she wasn't.

At least, Izuku wasn't capable of recognizing the face with which she was looking at him.

In the time he had known Junko, Izuku had seen hundreds, if not thousands different facets coming out of his friend. He had seen her happy. Teasing. Beaming with joy to the point of laughing. Each one, although with notable differences whenever Junko had one of those personality shifts, illuminated his otherwise gloomy day by day.

Just as well, Izuku had also seen her sad. Getting worried. Growing angry. Among many others that showed the other side of the coin. He wasn't foreign to the concept of his friend expressing both positive and negative emotions of all kinds.

Her monochrome mask was thrown aside, with eyes wide and shaking accompanied by dilated pupils. Tears trailing down her cheeks. Trembling lips turned inwards. The individual in front of him was the human embodiment of fear. Someone who abandoned any hope for the future.

This wasn't the Junko he knew. Regardless of her mood, his friend always carried a glimmer in his eyes. A burning passion for life itself that allowed her to be a pilar of confidence in which he could always find comfort from the misery and despair of the outside world. It wasn't the girl he had grown to respect, admire, and, adamant as he might be to deny it, love.

Who was this person? Where was Junko? Why was this happening?

More important than all of that…

What had he done to her?

"Kek kek kek…what do we got here?" Izuku flinched hearing the voice of what was the crux of this disaster. Him. The third wheel on what should've been an emotionally packed yet celebratory reunion. "My hearing wasn't messing around, eh? It is another chump for the grinder…KEK! Ain't this my lucky day!?"

Izuku could barely count the person a few feet ahead of him as one. His entire attire was thorn with holes and scratch marks. Beginning with brown and broken shoes from where paws leaked out. His once light-blue jeans, tarnished with dried brown spots Izuku had a grim idea of what they originally were. It was more of the same for the upper area. What was once a long-sleeved grey shirt, had its sides thorn apart, revealing bloodied, unkept, and bald spots on its white fur,

He was the possessor of a heteromorphic-type quirk, Izuku noticed, with his physical traits belonging to a rat. Feral was also an apt word to describe the man, with crooked yellow teeth morphed into a weird combination between a head-splitting grin and a snarl. With chew marks on his own ears and those unfocused bloodshot eyes Izuku became more angsty the longer he stared.

Accompanied by the nauseous smell of grime and death, it was a nightmare-fuel material made reality.

Yet, far above all of that, a single detail was responsible for draining the color out of Izuku's face since setting foot in this alley.

And it was the way he was restraining Junko while aiming a gun directly at her head.

"S-Sorry, buddy," Junko's voice, however wrong it felt hearing her like that, brought some semblance of composure back. "One moment I let my guard down, and the next this chewerhead sneaked on me from behind. I…messed up big time, huh?"

"Oi, Godd…Chick, ya know this wimp?" The heteromorph grunted in that strange voice of his, poking at his friend with the tip of the firearm, causing Junko to flinch while leaving a small whimper.

That flipped a switch on Izuku. Paralyzing fear turned into barely contained rage. "You son of a bitch! Let her go!"

"Ah, ya got a voice after all, then? And quite a mouthful one too. Thought for a moment that pissing yer pants was the only thing you were good at, kek!" The bastard mocked, his sneer showing even more teeth, which made Izuku see they too had some bloody spots. Soon, however, his sadistic grin turned into a vicious snarl. "Not like that matters shit. I mean, are ya blind, dumbass? Don'tcha dare think for a moment you are in a position to ask me crap. The only one with a chip to bargain here is me. Your friend here knows what I meant, ain't that so!?" Izuku itched a breath when the heteromorph pushed the gun further at Junko's forehead, making his friend release more and more tears accompanied by sobs. "I just hafta pull the trigger and BANG! That pretty face of hers will be decorating everywhere around these dirty streets! Kek kek kek!"

His brief boost of bravery dwindled upon that threat. The reality of their situation was sinking in. Junko was too frozen in fear to come up with any ideas. Either that, or she figured out that putting any resistance would be a fatal mistake. He didn't know what alternative was worse. As for him, similarly, Izuku couldn't make any demands against this person while he had her at gunpoint. Besides, antagonizing him any further would only make him enraged and irrational, more so than he already was.

Izuku had no idea if this guy was a trigger-happy individual, and testing whether that was the case or not was the last thing Izuku would ever want to try.

It was time to change to the only other path that could let him and Junko walk unharmed. Abysmally small chances as it had of working.

"I…I understand," Izuku began, using a herculean effort in holding back the hate and resentment that was quickly growing against the villain. "If it's money, or…or what we have, we will give everything we got. Just…please don't hurt her."

It was humiliating. Being on the verge of self-proclaiming as a hero just a few minutes ago only to beg at the very next evildoer he found. However, Izuku couldn't bring himself to give any damn about his own pride and beliefs if it gave him a glimmer of hope for Junko to make it out of this mess alive.

Some extra ticks of silence passed before the villain dignified a response. "…This girl, she means a lot to you, huh?"

Izuku blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected that question, less in such a calm manner.

"Yes…yes she does," Izuku said, pouring as much sincerity and meaning behind it as he could. As things stood, though, they couldn't get any worse. His only shot was to hope Izuku's words reached this person.

"Hn, I can't see your face, but your eyes and voice give away a lot of stuff," The white-furred adult mused aloud. "Your loneliness. Your fervent dependence on her warmth. You are desperate for not losing the only person you give a crap about AND the only person who gives a damn about you, ain't that so?"

Hearing that from an outsider's perspective gave him a confusing series of emotions that made him feel a headache. Still, Izuku ignored them in favor of giving a cautious nod.

"Hmm," Izuku waited with a held breath for the rodent-like man to make his verdict. "…Alright, ya convinced me!"

Both Izuku and Junko, with the latter finally snapping out of her stupor, perked up at his words. "I did?"

"Yep, here's what's gonna happen," The villain began, with a kick in his voice that was making Izuku wary. "Y'see, I am quite hungry."

"Hungry?" While still worried, Izuku could admit the barest crumbs of tension threatened to leave his body. If it's food what will get them out of this… "Then, if we get you something to eat, will you leave us be?"

"Oh no no no, you misunderstand," Within the madness corroding in his face, there was now a glint in the heteromorph's eyes that was sending Izuku an infinity of alarm bells. "It is true that I am in need of a meal to fill up my stomach, but how do I put this…this meal I long for, I already have it with me~."

For a moment, Izuku blinked in confusion, soon enough though, his eyes widened in horror once an understanding of what he meant by that dawned on Izuku.

"What the fuck!?" Junko cried out, just as well getting what were the plans of…of whatever monstrosity the thing in front of him had become.

"Sick bastard!" Izuku roared. "What the hell is wrong with you!? What…just what do you want out of us!?"

"What do I want? Oh, that is quite simple," As those words left his disgusting mouth, something on his face began to change. His eyes…there was no other way to put it other than they began turning into a bottomless pit for the purest of darkness. His pupils and iris morphed into an endless vortex that had long since consumed any life they held. His orbs carried an evil Izuku never had the displeasure of meeting before. "All I want…is despair."

"Despair…?"

"Yeah! No money, no possession, and no whatever fuck else you could bring to the table." The thing enthusiastically declared. "Did ya think for a moment this shit was going to have a happy ending? Let me give ya a reality check with the only options ya have! Stay where ya are, let me and your friend go, and allow her to breath whatever extra time among the living that brings her. Or…try getting to me and I blow her head! How's that sounding, eh!? Ah, ain't filling ya with despair already!? Kek kek kek!" While the thing was distracted with his manic laughter, a sense of nausea invaded Izuku.

He wanted to throw up. The longer this miserable experience lasted, whatever crumbs of hope he still keep disappeared.

What have they stumbled upon?

Did they really deserve to go through something like this?

Just…what was he supposed to do now?

Yet, even though everything seemed lost within this muddy swamp of despair, one of Izuku's hands twitched.

Huh…?

Focusing on the sensation within his hand, Izuku's eyes widened.

What the…? Am I really still keeping this with me?

However, thanks to that same possession at hand, an idea came to him. It lacked any complexity. Far from that, it was both simple and radical. And if he wasn't as desperate, Izuku would've never considered it.

This is the bottom of the barrel. If it doesn't work…everything will be over.

"Let her go."

"You truly are a lost cause, eh? How many times do I…" The heteromorph trailed off while his eyes widened. "It seems I wasn't paying you that much attention. To think you carried that in your hands this whole time…"

"I-I am not going to repeat this again, drop your weapon and let…l-let her go!" With shaking hands and the burner phone tossed aside, Izuku took aim with the only other item he held since his run here.

The handgun.

His last gamble.

The brief surprise disappeared from the villain's face, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, "Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Pointing it at you and firing the trigger should be enough." Izuku declared, with as much false confidence as he could.

Considering how little distance there was between each other, nothing beyond four or six feet, it wasn't a lie that even someone like Izuku could aim somewhere dangerous, possibly lethal too.

Besides, with the heteromorph having his gun pointed at Junko, there was no scenario in which the rodent thing harmed Junko without paying for it.

It was all a hypothetical scenario, of course. His plan revolved around the villain having the bare minimum of situational awareness to reach that same conclusion.

That, at the very least, should grant Izuku some talking ground.

Nevertheless, it all boiled down to a single question.

Did it work?

"Hmm, if that's how's it gonna be…Kek, fine by me. Give it your best shot!"

…Eh?

Izuku blinked a pair of times before absolute disbelief took over his face. He couldn't believe how casually this monster was taking this. "What?"

"The despair of my own death doesn't sound half bad, don'tcha think?" The rodent's lips twisted into a malicious and knowing grin. "Or what, you ain't gonna tell that was just a bluff, are you~?"

"I-I…that is…no, but―"

"Are ya deaf, then? DO IT!" Izuku flinched at the sudden shout. "As I told ya already, the only thing that awaits each one of us at the end of this is despair! Do you have a gun? Congrats, now your choices are to kill me or to let me kill her. So…what's gonna be? Blood will be spilled tonight, and it is your hand that will decide whose."

By this point, he doubted his face showed anything else other than dreading panic. He wanted to rip off the mask from his face and freed himself from the asphyxiation imprisonment it brought. His mind was a turmoil threatening to make his head explode.

Whatever grain of composure he had left, it just suffered a swift and cruel death.

Shit shit shit shit! Unlike me, I don't doubt that monster is serious about his 'proposal'. I was dumbass for expecting some psychotic man-eating killer to give a crap about his own life! What now!?

"Izuku." Like cutting through butter with a heated knife, the voice of his friend put things in a temporary stalemate.

Save for the most shocking moments within this mess, she had been quiet. Not that I could blame her given the position she was in. But, if she was willing to talk now…

"Junko, are you…" As if to deal the killing blow, faster than he could dare hope she had come up with something, Izuku's heart sank at what he saw.

At the resignation smearing Junko's face.

No…

"Whatever happens now, I want you to know how glad I am for the chance of meeting someone I could connect to like I did with you."

Stop…

"Far beyond the concepts of hopes and dreams, there were those moments in which we laughed, cried, and, well, we enjoyed our life like no one believed people like you and I could or deserved to, didn't we?"

Don't do this to me, please…

"All those memories made ever since knowing each other…they are something I will never forget. From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

Rather than feeling any comfort from those words, it was like getting stabbed with a stake through the heart, and that tender and grateful smile decorating her lips was the hand that twisted the injury.

Why are you making it sound like a farewell? This…this isn't the end yet! I-I still can think of something, a-anything! Perhaps I―

"Oi oi, who said there was time for pleasantries? Ain't ya two forgetting about me?" Before Izuku could muster a proper response, the cursed thing complained in a falsely offended voice. Quickly enough, the most deranged of all faces possessed his features. "Can't have that now, can we? After all…playtime is over!"

"W-WAIT!" The hair on Izuku's back stood on end. This can't be it, right!? "Don't do this, please! There has to be a way for―"

"Too late!" Izuku's eyes rose up with soul-crushing horror when one of the monster's digits began traveling down to the trigger of his weapon. "If this doofus ain't invested enough to make a choice, I will take the shot for him! GOODBYE, MY GODDESS!"

NO!

B̸̗̤̒͘A̵N̴̡͎̼̚G̷̡̪̮͊!

The only sound Izuku's ears were capable of catching was that of an uncomfortable ringing. As if a thousand bells were shaken just beside him.

It was far from his biggest concern though. No, the one deserving of such a title while also responsible for why he was shaking like a leaf and refusing to unclench his eyes, was what he had just heard.

The sound of a bullet being shot.

There were a pair of frantic moments in which Izuku's mind simply refused to elaborate beyond confirming that it had occurred. His brain went into override, showing him thousands upon thousands of different manners in which Junko's corpse would be lying on the ground.

But that wasn't right. Deep down, he knew that hiding from the truth was only delaying the inevitable.

That…that's right, whatever is out there, sooner or later I will have to face it. Ripping the band-aid as quickly as possible was for the best.

After a few moments, he gained the courage to bring his eyes open and look up.

No sooner Izuku did as such, he came to regret it.

Along with the sight, his hearing recovered just in time to catch the characteristic sound that came from small droplets hitting concrete. It wasn't raining, though. No, its origins were far more sinister.

Blood.

Falling down into the dirty streets. Trailing from dirtied jeans. Through a teared-sleeved shirt while continuing at someone's furry collar. Crossing a just as hairy-white face, all the way up…to the villain's forehead.

Where a bullet had made its way deep into his cranial cavity.

The bullet Izuku had just fired.

Izuku wanted to do something. To scream. To blurt a million useless apologies. To cry. Just…anything.

"O-Oi…kid…" In the end, the barely still-alive heteromorph beat him to it. Izuku watched in a trance of sorts, how this…this person used all of his remaining life into forcing his now normal-looking ocean-blue eyes to trail down toward the figure he had in his clutches until just recently. His eyes widened with something Izuku simply didn't have the grey matter to figure out. Following that, those intense eyes turned back to Izuku while tears traveled down his face. "U…un…a…ay…" Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, the very moment those words left his mouth, the tears stopped leaking, and his eyes rolled up before his entire body fell on his back.

There wasn't any twitching, nor the rising and falling of his lungs that would give any hope for the man.

Without a shadow of a doubt, he had breathed his last breath.

No, that was a pretty way of putting it.

He had been murdered.

Killed by no other than Izuku Midoriya.

…

…

…

…Wh…

H-Huh…?

That…

That wasn't…supposed to…

"…Why…me…?"

That was the question of his life, wasn't it?

Why?

Why did he fail in keeping Junko away from any harm?

Why did he insist on that dumb fantasy of being a hero?

Why did that person have to die at the stake of it?

Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why Why W―

WHY DID THINGS TURNED OUT THIS WAY!?

HOW COULD HE LET THIS HAPPEN!?

WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM!?

"AAAAAAHHHH!" Finally snapping out of his daze, his wide eyes shot down where his hands still held the weapon with which he murdered someone. With a horrified second scream, Izuku recoiled. Tripping over his own feet, he fell on his rear. No sooner he noticed he was still holding that cursed gun; he threw it aside as if it were set on fire, its awful form torturing him with clattering sounds that furtherly twisted his psyche. He scampered as far as possible from it. As if that somehow made him any less guilty of what had just transpired.

But that wasn't how things worked.

Of fucking course they didn't, dumbass!

He had committed one of the greatest sins any person could do. One of the biggest taboos a hero could get involved with.

Hero? Don't mess with me! I would be lucky if I had been born like a bunch of trash for people to walk through!

He wasn't a hero.

He wasn't a proper citizen.

He wasn't even a Deku.

He wasn't anything else other than some cold-blooded murderer of a villain.

I am the scum of society!

"AAARGH! W-What I have done!?" While tormented screeches escaped his mouth, Izuku clutched his hands to the sides of his head with enough force for it to hurt. Whether a futile attempt of keeping some sanity intact or the need of crushing his own head in atonement, Izuku had no idea.

He didn't want to have any idea.

All he desired, the only thing Izuku deserved, was to dig himself into a hole and die there, making him incapable of hurting someone ever again.

"IZUKU!" And yet, while the clouds of uncertainty and discord didn't become clear, that unmistakable voice was just enough for them to part slightly away and give him the sight of a Junko rushing toward him. By the time she reached him, the strawberry-blonde crouched down and hastily took his mask off before holding him by the shoulders with a worried face he didn't deserve. "Goddamnit, are you okay!? Did you get hurt somewhere!?"

Izuku couldn't deny seeing Junko coming unscratched was a relief of titanic proportions.

A temporary one, however. Soon as it came, the fog of self-loathing and anxiety pushed it away in favor of making the misery return with vengeance.

"Junko…" Izuku began, a fountain of tears jumping out of his glands like the pathetic crybaby he never stopped being. "I-I ruined everything, I…I-I'm sorry! What I just did is terrible. Not only I-I have tarnished all of what you taught me, now I can't ever be a hero," What did that matter now!? This wasn't about him; it was about the victim of his stupidity! "T-That man, I…I…w-what if it had a family!? Goals!? A dream of his own!? Shit, I didn't even get to know his name! I killed a total stranger as if it was nothing! A detention center would be too good for someone like me. I deserve to be sent to jail, a-and not any prison, I should be sent to Tartarus and then straight into the chopping―!"

SMACK!

The sound of flesh hitting against flesh echoed through the otherwise eerily quiet alleyway. Izuku's head was spun to the side, and his ramblings, both vocal and internal ones, came to a sudden halt thanks to the burning feeling on his left cheek. Alarm and dread were replaced with shock at being slapped by Junko.

Darting his eyes back to the front, he caught sight of Junko with a grin threatening to split her face in two.

What?

Izuku blinked and saw his friend looking at him with a mixture of concern and disbelief.

"Izuku, how could you say that?" Junko began, indignation clear in her voice while some remaining tears trailed down. "Talking about deserving a penal sentence, going as far as considering something worse than that, just…are ya hearing yourself!?"

The momentary confused pause from his friend driving away his panic attack with a slap along with the puzzlement of that weird optical illusion he saw a moment ago, each was quickly replaced for the umpteenth occasion with the gut-wrenching reminder of his actions.

"O-Of course I know what I am saying, but…Junko, I…I-I just took a person's life!" He all but shouted, declaring his crime out loud making twice as dreading of his actions as he already was. "There is no scenario in which that was the correct thing to do!"

"…Is that it, then? Are you going to deliver yourself to the nearest police station and ask the police for the longest sentence possible?" Just when Izuku was about to reply to that, Junko beat him to it with one last question that made his entire argument crumble down with a gasp escaping his throat. "Are you…going to abandon me, Zuzu?"

Hearing that question, along with how devastated she sounded, made Izuku hesitate. Admittedly, he hadn't thought about that.

I've been telling myself over and over how much losing her would crush me. This tragedy occurred precisely because I couldn't bear such an idea. And yet, I am talking of doing that to her. Isn't that… hypocritical on my part?

However, one wary glance at the still-fresh body some feet away from them, not only renewed the horror that haunted him moments ago, it put his mind into a stalemate.

"What I am supposed to do?" Izuku asked, practically begging for anything that could set his mind straight. "M-Murder is still murder. I committed an unforgivable mistake."

"Perhaps you did in the eyes of the law," Before resignation could begin to set in, Junko continued. "But, was it really the wrong thing to do?"

"J-Junko…?" He couldn't prevent the trepidation leaking in his voice. Izuku knew Junko had seen some gruesome stuff in her early life, and that just so recently had gone through a traumatic experience, but was she really implying what he thought she was?

"Look, don't get me wrong, I am not saying this is the always-go-for answer, however," Junko paused while a thoughtful frown developed on her face. "You heard what that monster admitted having planned for me, didn't you? Izuku, he was proudly talking about eating me for flip's sake! Whatever dream he might've had, I doubt it was any good. His family? You also saw his appearance. All that blood covering head from toe…there's no way all of that was his. I don't wanna be pessimistic, but in a worst-case scenario…" Junko trailed off for a moment before shaking her head and staring back at him again. "What I'm trying to say is that if you hadn't gone with the choice you made, the repercussions would've been far more terrible. I am not talking only about me. Tomorrow. The day after. I assure you the longer that guy was allowed to walk unpunished, the more victims he would've accumulated into his body count. Perhaps tonight was far from what you imagined it to be, but that doesn't quit the good you did."

By the time his friend was finally done speaking, his inner conflict paused in favor of digesting what she just said.

To some degree, Izuku…saw the logic in her words. The way that villain acted. How he took Junko hostage. The atrocities he had and was planning to commit. Try as Izuku might, he wasn't capable of imagining a scenario in which not confronting that man would make him feel any better, or lead to a more favorable outcome for that matter.

And yet…

"I…I don't know what to do, Junko," He admitted. "I-I think I understand what you are trying to say, but what if―"

Once again, Izuku was interrupted. However, rather than receiving another mark in his cheeks, he gasped when one of Junko's hands pulled his face down to her bosom while the other began making circles in his back.

"Shhh, it's okay, Zuzu," Junko whispered, a voice both sultry and comforting tickling his ear. "I understand this is confusing and scary. Nevertheless, you must know that your actions today were nothing less than heroic. I am alive because of you, aren't I? At the very least, you are my hero."

"J-Junko, I…"

"I know, I know," His friend continued in that angelic voice of hers, with her touches turning impossibly more tender. "It is not something that will be easy to digest anytime soon. It will be a matter of time, but you will get to see things the way I do. That is one of many reasons why I am here for you. No matter how bad things might get, I will always be there to make sure you recover from this and become what you are meant to be."

Junko's ministrations were a godsend. The fact that his arms clutched to her sides for dear life while repeatedly whispering her name between sobs was the definitive proof of that.

I killed someone.

However, the guilt refused to budge even an inch. Izuku felt like it was the same as trying to fix a cracking dam with a band-aid. It wasn't anywhere near enough to calm the hurricane of self-loathing, guilt, and grief. Perhaps it was just like Junko said and with enough time, those sentiments would change. Maybe it was a matter of days, months, or even years.

My hands carry someone else's blood.

He didn't know, and he couldn't even begin to care when the thought of reaching inner peace seemed like a disgustingly greedy idea.

I…I am a murderer and nothing will change that.

It was with that realization, he understood there was no force in the world capable of bringing him any hope tonight. Leaving him with a single alternative.

With the moonlight gazing down upon him with judgmental scorn, caressed by what should have been the soothing embrace of his friend, Izuku Midoriya despaired like he never had in his life.

---

Junko Enoshima despaired.

In truth, there hadn't been a moment in her existence in which she hadn't done so. It was a natural state of being for her.

However, there were certain occasions in her life when she did so with an intensity that went beyond her expectations.

When the first words she heard after being born was her mother telling her she was a mistake.

When her mother grew tired of her and Mukuro, throwing them both into the streets to fend for themselves.

When Mukuro abandoned her at the first opportunity after finding a family willing to adopt them.

When her sister came back years later and saw in a mix of disbelief and horror what she did to their adopted parents.

When Class 77-B's light breathed her last breath.

When the man she loved more than anything in the world died at her own hands.

When she put the entire world into a state of chaos and disarray that would take entire generations to recover from.

When she betrayed the trust her beloved sister poured on her and executed Mukuro, then desecrated her body as part of a plan that almost resulted in the death of the guy said sister came to develop feelings for.

When one by one, each of the classmates she did come to cherish succumbed to despair and perished under her machinations.

When all of what she worked so hard for crumbled at the hands of the guy who represented everything she hated.

Then there was Izuku Midoriya.

Izuku Midoriya, the boy who, no matter how much the world scorned him, wanted to be a hero for nothing else other than the sake of doing the right thing.

The first person who greeted her into this world.

An individual that, every single day since knowing each other, tempted her with the possibility of a future beyond what she was meant to be.

Her friend who was nothing but good to her…and who now had a permanent black mark in his conscience that will forever be there to remind him of what he had done. Always ready to shut down the flames of ambition whenever the idea of being a hero, an actual hero, does so much as cross his mind.

It was all her fault, and Junko Enoshima despaired for that.

It was just as well, in between the storm of conflicting ideals and sentiments, tormented with the sight of her friend shaking and crying while in absolute despair, and aware that his hopes and dreams will never recover because of her, that a single thought echoed within Junko's most pure and sincere corners of her mind.

DING! DONG! BING! BONG! A BODY HAS BEEN DISCOVERED! GYAHAHAHAHAHA!

Bohoho-ho, feeling sad, buddy? Cry me river if ya want, but I won't do shit to make the pain go away!

Regretting your actions and hating their consequences? Upupupu, flash-fucking-news, dumbass.

That despair worming into the core of your heart is there to stay!

A flipping three months plan. Entire days in which she had the hear those obnoxious declarations about saving everyone while giving them hope. Week after week going against her most basic instincts, building up mutual trust, nurturing him with the compassion and understanding no one else dared give him, and finally, being responsible for making the hero-aspirant improve himself beyond his wildest expectations.

All of it with the intent of making sure this inflection point was a success.

That I got it done without throwing up at least once is a testament to how fucking awesome I am!

The last time Junko had invested that much effort in a single individual was with her beloved Matsuda. Admittedly, just as back then, she held the same opinion regarding the reaped results.

It ended up being absolutely fucking worthy.

Everything leading up to this moment was.

The worst meeting by chance.

Passively messing with Izuku's perception of what was right and wrong.

Meddling with his school life.

Pushing the buttons of that ashen-blonde Buckethead.

Blackening the already putrid hearts of Izuku's classmates with envy and contempt.

The e-mail that was sent to Aldera's principal from a 'committee member', asking for a last-minute meeting to happen.

Poisoning his mind with half-truths and lies.

And, of course, the cherry atop the cake.

Creating a scenario in which either he took a life of his own volition, or saw his precious, beloved, and only friend get her head blown up!

Y'know… just a little harmless incentive to spice things up~.

Unsurprisingly, Dumb and Dumber fluked it here and there, especially the latter with those last-minute stunts. Despite that, the harvested results were far more delicious than her initial expectations.

How long had she thirsted for first-quality despair like the one her beloved friend was offering right now? Day after fucking day he refused to entirely cower at the despair his pathetic life provided 'Yeah yeah, that exactly was part of the plan, but god-fuckin'-dammit! Did he really had to edge me for this long and this much!?'. His resilienceforced Junko to sustain herself with third-hand scrappers which was the occasional incident caused by the villains. Hers or whichever others volunteered for the cause.

Until now, that is~.

At this very moment, though? It was exactly what she had been longing for ever since breathing her first breath in this world. The build-up, the gradual ascension in hopes of reaching nirvana, and just when the gates of paradise were within the reach of Izuku's hands…

Psych! All the effort both she and Izuku poured for the sake of his dream burned to cinders! With ten thousand pounds of tragedy ready to drag him down into the deepest pits of despair!

Ah~, despair like this is once in a lifetime experience. Such a shame that I won't have anything near as good anytime soon.

All that friendship mumbo-jumbo from the last months was good to build up a decent appetite, but alas, what was done was done. Besides, from now on she will no longer have to settle for small doses.

After all…with phase one completed, the time for her to stop pulling any punches and begin firing the big guns has come.

Sorry not sorry, Zu-cker-zu~! You had entire months to figure out who the fuck was ruining your already miserable life. Not only you didn't measure up to the task, but also killed a person in the process. That, my blackened friend…has consequences~.

No chance for any mercy!

The audience begs for it!

Give me a P!

U!

N!

I!

S!

H!

M!

E!

N!

T!

What do we get!?

PUUUUUNISSSHMMMMEEENT TIIIIIMMMEE!

---

A.N: Phew, more than twenty thousand words! That is by far the largest chapter I have written for any of my works, and I do no doubt it will remain as such for a while. I was tempted to split it into two parts, but as the epilogue of this arc, I thought it would feel incomplete if I left part of its contents for a later date.

Speaking of which...

R. I. P. Izuku's Hope, the moment he allowed Junko to come into his life was the exact moment in which he gave up on it.

Everyone expected it. Everyone dreaded it. And, unfortunately, Junko's first major (And far from the last one.) victory had come to be. That wasn't all, of course. As you saw at the beginning, Junko is no longer playing a single-player game. Introducing a detective as the first real major antagonist not only felt like the natural thing to do, I believe it is a proper tribute to the franchise where Junko came from.

He won't be the only one, of course! The next chapter will introduce two more of them. Then a mini-arc will follow in which...things happen. Finally, following all of that, the next major arc will begin. I bet most of you had an idea about what it will involve, nevertheless, I will leave you guys free to guess about it anyways.

That being said, let me know what you all think. Did you liked the chapter? Hated it? Made your skin crawl with despair!? Whatever the case is, I would like to hear about it.

Until next time!