Chapter 10
My Own Choice
"I thought something happened to you," Night Crawler explained, holding out Midnight's fur coat and sais. "Look, I found these in an alley and thought they got you. I rushed here as soon as I could."
Midnight smacked her free hand against her forehead in exasperation. "Crawler," she whispered tiredly, preferring to use his vigilante name rather than his real one. "That coat literally had information about my current location for the backup I called. Aizawa was supposed to get it and come here. I was going to hold that bastard back until then." She finished, gesturing with her staff toward where the leader had been flung.
"Oh..." A blush crept up Crawler's cheeks as realization dawned on him. He had overthought the situation and now felt both embarrassed and guilty for interfering. "I... uh..." he stammered, at a loss for words.
"You're one fucked up cockroach, aren't you, Night Crawler?" The Boss sneered, interrupting their conversation and drawing both their gazes. "And what's this? A hero working with a vigilante? A child at that? You really have no shame, Midnight." A cruel smirk spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Tell me, kid. Is Midnight really the slut they say she is? Does she make you suck her tits like a baby? Does she suck your little baby dick?"
"What?" Izuku muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion. What was the criminal even saying?
Midnight's eyes narrowed, her fists clenching tightly, her left hand squeezing her staff. She snatched her fur coat and sais from Izuku, tossing the coat to the side and pocketing the sais. "Listen, Crawler," she whispered, her voice deadly serious. "What's done is done. I can no longer expect backup from the other heroes. So, you're going to be my backup, understood? For just tonight, you're my little sidekick."
Night Crawler nodded determinedly, his body tensing as he faced the Boss—the very criminal he had been hunting for so long.
"And don't kill him," Midnight warned softly.
"What?" Izuku looked offended at Midnight.
"Just don't kill him," Midnight immediately followed, her voice laced with firmness. In all honesty, she thought he would be too eager to eliminate the threat. "We need to capture him alive. We need all the information about the drugs and where he gets them from."
"Understood," Night Crawler replied, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the impending fight, determined to emerge victorious this time.
"Before we begin," the Boss interjected, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. "Tell me, kid. Who are you? Why are you after me?"
Night Crawler paused, considering his response. Should he reveal his identity? The risk was that the Boss might blab to the authorities, but who would believe a criminal? He raised his hand and gripped his mask between his fingers. Before he could pull it off, Midnight's voice cut through the air.
"Are you sure about this?" Midnight asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Night Crawler nodded slightly, his resolve firm. With little hesitation, he pulled off his mask, revealing his face to the Boss, whose eyes widened in recognition.
"You're that brat," the Boss rasped, recognition flickering in his eyes. "The one with the woman from three years back."
"Yes," Izuku confirmed, his voice steady and cold. "And the boy whose mother your henchman murdered."
The Boss chuckled, a grim smile spreading across his face. "Well, ain't that something? Guess your reason to hunt me down seem justified, huh?" He leaned in, his eyes wild. "Don't you worry, kid. You'll be seeing your mom real soon. I'll make damn sure of that."
Izuku tucked his mask into the pocket of his armor, his gaze never leaving the Boss. "He's been using the drug for a while now," Izuku said, turning to Midnight. "It's given him some kind of hardening quirk. I need some time to analyze it with my eyes, find a weakness. If there is one." His Six Eyes were powerful, but they required time to scrutinize a target, to unravel the intricacies of a quirk and pinpoint its vulnerabilities.
Midnight didn't press Izuku about his quirk; there would be time for that after they'd dealt with the criminal at hand. "Alright," she said, spinning her staff and settling into a battle-ready stance. "But once this is over, we're going to talk about you interfering with a Hero's work. Understood?" Her voice was stern, brooking no argument.
"Y-Yeah," Izuku stammered, nerves jangling as he prepared himself.
The area fell silent, the air thick with anticipation. The Boss grinned from ear to ear, excitement radiating off him like a madman's glee. Izuku and Midnight locked eyes with the criminal, their expressions serious and focused. The tension was so thick you could have sliced it with a knife. Suddenly, as if an invisible countdown reached zero, all three burst into action.
The Boss charged at the duo, while Izuku and Midnight sprinted towards him. Midnight held her staff parallel to the ground, making running easier. Izuku surged ahead, intent on meeting the Boss head-on.
The green-haired vigilante took two powerful strides and launched himself into the air, descending on the Boss like a bird of prey. The Boss swatted at him, but Izuku, with a grace born of quick reaction training, twisted his body into a tight somersault. He landed straddling the Boss's shoulders, his thighs clamping tightly around the criminal's head. Izuku unleashed a flurry of punches and elbows, raining blows down on the Boss's face, each strike fueled by a burning anger.
While Izuku pummeled from above, Midnight targeted the Boss's lower half. She planted herself to his right and swung her metallic staff, striking the back of the Boss's right knee with a resounding crack. The Boss buckled under the dual assault, his legs giving out as he crumpled to his knees, overwhelmed by Izuku's onslaught and the surprise attack from Midnight.
Izuku delivered one final, brutal punch to the Boss's face before leaping away, giving Midnight the room she needed. She gripped her staff and swung it upwards in a vertical arc. The metal connecting with the Boss's chin, snapping his head back. Without pausing, she reversed her grip and brought the staff crashing down, smashing it against his face. The Boss toppled backwards, blood spraying from his shattered nose and split lips, his body hitting the ground with a thud.
Izuku seized the Boss's left leg with a firm grip and, with a burst of strength, spun him halfway before sending him hurtling across the floor. The Boss crashed into the far side of the hall, his body crumpling from the impact.
Midnight swiftly joined Izuku, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. "Found any weakness?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the fallen Boss.
"Not yet," Izuku admitted, dusting off his hands and wiping away the sweat beading on his forehead with the sleeve of his armor.
"Alright, then we do this my way," Midnight declared, taking a few steps forward. "Remove that handkerchief from his face and make him inhale my aroma." She outlined her plan simply. "I've already filled half this room with it." She glanced at Izuku, a hint of concern etched on her stunning face. "You alright with that?"
"Don't worry about me," Izuku assured her, pulling out a peculiar mask from his armor's pocket. After a few adjustments, it morphed into a temporary gas mask, which he slipped on, shielding himself from Midnight's quirk. "I keep this with me, just in case I have to enter a burning building."
Impressed by his preparedness, Midnight nodded. She turned her attention back to the Boss, who had already recovered and was back on his feet. "Let's end this, shall we?" she smirked confidently.
Izuku clenched his right fist and slammed it into his open left palm, the sound echoing through the hall. "Let's do this," he said with a determined nod, then burst into a sprint toward the Boss. Midnight matched his pace, her long legs propelling her forward with surprising speed, keeping her stride for stride with Izuku.
The duo closed in on the Boss, flanking him on either side. Izuku took the right, Midnight the left. With a swift movement, Midnight pressed a button on her staff, the outer end expanding into a blunt, hammer-like head. She swung it horizontally, aiming for the Boss's midsection. Simultaneously, Izuku launched himself upwards, spinning into a powerful kick directed at the Boss's head.
But the Boss was no easy target. Despite his size, he twisted his body with unexpected agility, narrowly dodging both attacks. In a flash, he grabbed Izuku's leg mid-air and flung him toward Midnight like a rag doll. Midnight swiftly sidestepped, narrowly avoiding Izuku as he crashed to the ground.
"Sorry, kid," she muttered, her eyes never leaving the Boss. She swung her staff-turned-hammer again, this time aiming for his chin. But the Boss was ready, dancing backwards to avoid the strike. The hammer grazed his clothes, leaving a small tear—a near miss, but still a miss.
Midnight, sensing an opportunity, lunged for another attack, but the Boss was ready this time. He snatched her staff with one meaty hand and yanked her close, his other hand clamping around her throat. "As I said," he growled, his voice dripping with malice as he licked his lips, eyes roving over her like she was a feast laid out before him. "Women are weak, especially against men. You're meant to be subservient to us."
Midnight's breath hitched as his grip tightened, cutting off her air. In another situation, she might have found this kinky, a twisted power dynamic that she sometimes toyed with in her fantasies. But now, it was just infuriating. She managed a smirk, her lips curling defiantly. "Men… like… you… are… fools," she choked out, her voice fragmented by the lack of air.
But Midnight was far from defeated. With the agility of a cat, she hooked the heel of her right shoe behind the Boss's collar and drove her knee upward, slamming it into his chin with brutal force. The impact sent his head snapping upwards, spittle flying from his mouth as he staggered back, his hold on her neck loosening just enough for her to gasp in a breath.
Izuku materialized out of nowhere, positioning himself with precision behind the Boss. Balancing on the criminal's shoulder, he yanked the handkerchief from the Boss's face with a swift, decisive motion, exposing him to Midnight's influence.
Midnight, seizing the opportunity, aimed a finger directly at the Boss's nose and released a stream of her quirk. A faint pinkish smoke jetted through the air, hitting the Boss square on the nose. To their delight, the Boss's grip slackened as he stumbled onto one knee, visibly affected by the potent aroma.
"We did it!" Izuku exclaimed, his exhilaration evident as he jumped down to the ground beside the Boss. Midnight mirrored his excitement, a relieved smile beginning to spread across her face.
"LIKE HELL YOU DID!" The Boss roared, his voice raw and brutal, catching both Izuku and Midnight off guard. In a split second, the Boss slammed Midnight onto the concrete floor with a sickening thud. Her breath caught in her throat, the air knocked out of her so abruptly that she couldn't even scream.
Izuku, about to intervene, froze as the Boss flung Midnight away with a violent, sweeping motion. She went flying through the air, straight towards a cluster of sharp metal rods protruding from the ground. "MIDNIGHT!" Izuku screamed in panic, his right hand stretching out desperately, as if he could somehow reach her and alter her course.
Time seemed to stretch and warp for Izuku as he watched Midnight hurtling through the air, his heart pounding with desperation. From the corner of his eye, he caught a strange shift in his quirk. Negative energy stretched out like tendrils, weaving and intertwining with his Limitless quirk in a chaotic dance. The energy pulsed and distorted, fizzling before stabilizing into an almost perfect sphere of bluish light, roughly the size of a tennis ball. Through his heightened senses, Izuku could see a tunneling effect forming between the glowing orb and Midnight, like a thin, elastic wormhole.
Time snapped back to normal as Midnight abruptly halted mid-air, her body suspended as if held by an invisible force. A heartbeat later, her entire body was yanked back, pulled in the opposite direction from her initial trajectory, right towards Izuku. He stumbled briefly, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but managed to catch her, her larger frame crashing into his arms. He braced himself, stopping her just before she could slam into a wall.
Midnight stared at Izuku, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and disbelief. "HOLY SHIT! What the hell was that?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly, her tone filled with incredulity.
"I... Uh..." Izuku stammered, at a loss for words. Gently, he set Midnight down on her feet and stared at his right hand, his mind racing. 'I could do something like that with my quirk?' The question echoed through his thoughts, the realization of his newfound power feeling surreal. It was like he had some sort of magnetic force that could pull even a human towards him.
"Another neat trick, huh?" The Boss taunted, his voice laced with amusement.
Izuku's gaze snapped to the Boss, his right hand curling into a tight fist. He extended his hand, palm facing the criminal, a silent challenge in his eyes.
With a wild, almost deranged look, the Boss charged at Izuku, his massive frame barreling forward. But he hadn't even crossed the halfway mark when suddenly, every object in the hall—wooden planks, metallic pipes, scraps of metal and debris—flew towards him, converging in a chaotic whirlwind. In an instant, the Boss was crushed under the weight of it all, his body encased in a distorted sphere of metal and wood.
Midnight let out a low whistle, clearly impressed by the display of Izuku's quirk. "Super neat trick," she commented, her eyes drifting from the grotesque sphere to Izuku. "Could you always do something like that?"
Izuku lowered his hand, his gaze fixed on the sphere, a sense of awe washing over him. "No," he replied, his voice tinged with amazement. "I just found out I could do something like this."
The Boss exploded out of the sphere of death, heaving and bearing the marks of battle on his face. "You goddamn bastards!" he spat, his rage boiling over. "Why can't you just roll over and leave me the fuck alone?"
Midnight's eyes rolled in exasperation, her voice dripping with disdain. "Yeah, that's real rich coming from you. Do shit, then bitch about the consequences. Same old story with you fuckers."
The Boss's voice rose to a ragged shout, his anger palpable. "Do you have any fucking clue what I've been through! Do you have any idea how much—"
"Yeah, gonna have to cut you off right there," Izuku interrupted, his tone cool and disinterested as he picked at his ear with his pinky.
"What?" The Boss's voice wavered in surprise, struck speechless by Izuku's abrupt dismissal.
Izuku continued with a nonchalant tone. "Before we got into all this, I had a quick chat with the author. He informed me I can't let you ramble on with your sob story, because he's got nothing left to give the other 'major' villains if every asshole has some tragic backstory."
The Boss just gaped at Izuku, clearly struggling to process the absurdity of the situation. "I-I... I am sorry, what?"
"Yeah, figures you're just a disposable side character," Izuku said, crossing his arms over his chest, gaze distant. "You don't even have a name, did you notice? Apparently, you were just a plot device to give me some character development."
Midnight's brow furrowed in concern. "Izuku, what the hell are you talking about?"
He glanced at her, shrugging nonchalantly. "No clue, honestly."
"FUCK IT THEN!" The Boss roared, lunging at Izuku and Midnight with renewed fury.
Izuku sprinted forward, closely followed by Midnight. As the green-haired boy neared the hulking criminal, the Boss reared back, fist clenched, ready to deliver a crushing blow. But Izuku dropped to his knees, sliding deftly through the Boss's legs.
The Boss's fist met the concrete with a thunderous crack, leaving a web of fractures in its wake. Before he could react, Midnight was there, her staff poised to strike. She swung with all her might, connecting with the Boss's face. Blood sprayed from his mouth as the force sent him sprawling backwards, spinning from the impact.
Unfortunately for him, Izuku was already primed and ready, crouched low on one knee. As the Boss turned, Izuku shot his right fist upward in a devastating uppercut that connected squarely with the Boss's chin. The force of the blow sent the Boss's head snapping back, blood spraying from his mouth as he stumbled backward, reeling from the combined impact of both attacks. His drug-induced quirk wavered, feeling the strain with each punishing strike.
"Midnight!" Izuku called out, his voice steady and focused as he readied himself for the next assault. "Go for his neck!"
Midnight's eyes narrowed with determination as she thrust one end of her staff into the ground, bracing herself for the impending attack. In a synchronized, lethal combo, both Midnight and Izuku launched simultaneous kicks aimed at the Boss's neck from opposite sides. Their attacks were perfectly coordinated and synchronized despite them fighting together for the first time.
With a final, violent spurt of blood from his mouth, the Boss crashed to his knees, utterly exhausted and drained. His limbs refused to cooperate, and his vision began to cloud. His body had reached its limit, spent and beaten, ready to collapse under the weight of his defeat.
And then he felt slender arms snake around his neck, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. One hand gently clasped his chin, while the other rested on his chest. Two soft, pliant mounds pressed against his back—a sensation that once would have stirred lust within him, but now only evoked a chill of fear.
He felt a soft tongue trace a line of his cheek, the warmth and wetness a stark contrast to his own cold, trembling skin. "You're so done~" Midnight whispered into his ear, her voice laced with a teasing, aroused edge. "We win, Boss~"
The Boss glanced over at Izuku, who stood a few feet away, his gaze blank and unyielding. "So, what now?" the Boss asked, a desperate note creeping into his voice as he attempted to provoke a reaction. "You're going to kill me? Huh? Will that bring your fucking dead mother back? I wish that dumb thug had kept her alive so that I could make her my bitch! I would have fucking—"
"ENOUGH!" Midnight snapped, cutting the Boss off mid-rant. She slammed her fist into his nose, the sickening crunch of bone echoing through the hall. With a swift motion, she pulled out a small ball and forced it into the Boss's mouth, gagging him effectively.
The X-Rated Heroine looked up, her gaze meeting Izuku's. "Izuku," she called softly, her voice a gentle caress.
Midnight's voice jolted Izuku out of his thoughts. "Huh?" he muttered, his eyes flicking back to hers.
"What do you want to do with him?" she asked, her gaze unwavering, locked onto Izuku's face. She was constantly releasing small amounts of her aroma, keeping the Boss subdued and docile.
Izuku blinked, a sudden sense of déjà vu washing over him. "Shouldn't you be the one to decide what to do with him?" he asked, deflecting the question back to her.
"I'll let you choose this time," Midnight said gently, her tone firm yet understanding. "But don't think it'll happen again until you've become a Pro Hero and surpassed me in rank, understood?"
Izuku stared at the purple-haired woman, his eyes then drifting down to the floor. "Will you allow me to kill him?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet Midnight heard it loud and clear, contemplating her response.
"Do you want to?" Midnight asked, her gaze steady and unyielding.
"I... I..." Izuku couldn't find the words, his mind a whirlwind of insecurities and worries that prevented him from forming coherent sentences. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the mask of his armor, tracing the contours with his fingers, a forlorn expression on his face. "I let him go once before, when I was six. That day has haunted me for the last four years. My choice that day led me down this path... into this darkness."
Midnight watched him closely, her eyes softening with a mix of understanding and concern. "Izuku, what happened in the past is done. You can't change it, but you can decide what happens next. This decision is yours, and yours alone. Do what you think is right."
Izuku took a deep breath, his grip tightening on the mask as he wrestled with his inner demons. The weight of his past choices pressed heavily on him, but he knew that this moment would define his future.
Midnight gazed at Izuku's face, seeing the turmoil etched into every line. She didn't pretend to understand his struggles completely; her experiences were worlds apart from his. Izuku had endured suffering, had been pushed and tormented by forces beyond his control. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't fully grasp the depth of his pain or the weight of his choices. She refused to treat him like a child, incapable of making decisions. He was mature enough to fight criminals in the dead of night, and she would treat him as such.
If she wanted Izuku to find a way out of this dark path, she would have to guide him, show him another way. But ultimately, it would be Izuku's choice whether to walk that new path or stay mired in the darkness. This moment, she thought, was the moment when she could finally see Izuku's true heart, and whether her faith in him was justified or just a delusion.
She released the criminal from her hold, allowing him to crumble to the floor like a rag doll. Taking a few steps back, she created a small distance between herself and the defeated man. "Go on then," she said, gesturing at the fallen criminal with a wave of her hand. "Do whatever you want with him."
Izuku looked at Midnight in incredulous surprise, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You're just going to let me do whatever I want with him? You're just going to stand aside like that?"
"I'm not going to make your decisions for you, Izuku," Midnight said, her voice firm and unyielding. "You've come far enough to make your own choices without me interfering."
Izuku's jaw clenched as his mind churned with conflicting thoughts. He could end it all right here, right now. He could free the world of another scumbag, just as the President had taught him. Slowly, he took one step forward, then another, and another, until he finally closed the distance between himself and the criminal. He crouched down, his weight pressing against the man's chest, and stared intently at his face. The Boss looked like he wanted to speak, but the ball gag in his mouth rendered him mute, his eyes pleading silently.
"I recall your words, Izuku, that a true Hero must do whatever it takes to safeguard peace and prosperity," Midnight murmured, her voice as gentle as a summer breeze yet heavy with insight. "And in this moment, ending this criminal's life might seem justifiable, another predator removed from the world. But, Izuku..." She took a steady breath, her gaze fixed on his thoughtful expression as he looked down at the unconscious figure. "Where do you draw the line, Izuku? This world is filled with countless others like him. How many more must you eliminate before you feel you've protected society? How much blood must stain your hands before it's enough to maintain order?"
Midnight closed the gap between herself and Izuku with a few deliberate strides, then knelt beside him, her gaze unwavering. "There's truth in what you're saying, Izuku. A Hero's duty is to safeguard peace and prosperity. But part of being a Hero is knowing when to stop." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "If you keep treading this path, how are you any different from the villains? Killing criminals doesn't automatically make society better. In fact, it could backfire—others might retaliate, claiming we're misusing our quirks to suppress them. As Heroes, our role is to lead by example, not enforce our will through violence." Her eyes grew gentler as she rubbed his shoulder gently. "I understand how hard it is to let go of the past, Izuku. But sometimes, forging ahead means leaving the pain behind."
Releasing a soft, almost maternal sigh, Midnight rose to her feet, giving Izuku's shoulder one last gentle pat before stepping back. She positioned herself a respectful distance behind him, allowing him the space to make his own decision. She had shared her perspective, her wisdom earned from a life of introspection and struggle. Now, the choice was his.
Izuku's gaze lingered on the Boss's face, his mind a whirlwind of conflict. He could end this wretched life right here, right now. Just a squeeze, a twist, and it would be over. So why did his hands remain still? Why did this hesitation gnaw at him? He had already stained his hands with blood, walked this dark path—why balk now?
Was it exhaustion? Was he weary of this life, of being a killer? Or was it self-revulsion, a disgust at what he had become and how easily he had been manipulated? The questions lingered, heavy and unanswered, as Izuku grappled with the chasm between the hero he wanted to be and the reality of his actions.
"What if..." Izuku started, his voice barely above a whisper, haunted by the memories of the family of two who had been tortured and killed by the scum lying at his feet. "What if you spare them and they go on to hurt more people?"
Midnight's gaze fell to the ground, her expression a mix of sadness and deep pain. "That's a burden we heroes must carry, Izuku. Actions have consequences. Ours more so than anyone else's. What I'm telling you, what I believe about being a Hero, is idealistic. But that's what a Hero is—an ideal person living in society. Sometimes, to distinguish ourselves from villains and criminals, we must cling to these ideals. They're what make us the true beacons of society, the hope for thousands of people."
Coming from someone like Midnight, it struck Izuku as somewhat ironic. She was far from the perfect, idealistic Hero society imagined. Yet, who was he to pass judgment? He was a murderer hiding in the shadows, after all. Above all, Midnight was right about what it meant to be a Hero. Heroes were meant to be beacons of hope, not instruments of fear.
Izuku raised his right hand, his fingers tightening into a fist. With a swift, deliberate motion, he brought his hand down, smashing his fist into the criminal's face. A weary sigh escaped his lips as he slowly stood up. "You're right," he said, his gaze falling on the now-unconscious figure beneath him, his eyes shadowed with determination.
"Last time, I spared you because that's what All Might would have done," he continued, his voice steadying with resolve. "But this time, I'm going to spare you because that's what a true Hero does. I want to kill you—every fiber of my being is screaming for it. Up until now, I've let that rage guide me, hunting down your followers. But not anymore. From now on, I'll follow my heart." He paused, a hint of a dark chuckle escaping his lips. "You'll live, but I hope you never get to live a normal life again. From this moment forward, you'll live with the knowledge that you were spared by a kid because he didn't think you were worthy of death."
Izuku took a step back before pivoting and walking over to Midnight, who greeted him with a warm smile. She leaned down and enveloped him in a comforting embrace. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine pride and happiness.
Izuku didn't return her embrace. He didn't feel worthy of the gesture. "Not yet," he murmured softly.
Midnight's prideful gaze turned to one of confusion as she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "Huh?"
"There's still one more thing I need to set right," Izuku said, his words laced with a hint of mystery. "I need to take my final step to truly be free from this hell."
Midnight released him from her embrace but kept her hands on his shoulders, her eyes searching his face with concern. "What are you talking about, Izuku?"
Izuku leaned in and planted a tender kiss on Midnight's left cheek, catching her completely off guard. Before she could react, he dashed away, scaling the wall with agile grace before swinging himself up to perch on the open window ledge. He donned his mask, the eye coverings concealing his gaze. "Thank you, Midnight," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "You helped me find myself again. You reminded me why I wanted to be a Hero and just how far I have strayed from that path. Without you, I'd probably still be lost." A shaky smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'll always be grateful to you. In another time, another place… maybe we could have been friends. I hope we meet again." With a two-finger salute, Izuku dropped back from the window, vanishing into the night.
Midnight stared at the empty window, her heart heavy with worry. She tried to shake off the feeling, telling herself he had survived this long on his own—he'd be fine.
Right?
Attempting to redirect her thoughts from the enigmatic, green-haired vigilante, Midnight turned her attention back to the criminal trying to slither away. "And just where do you think you're going?" she asked, rolling her eyes. She approached him with deliberate slowness, drawing out a pair of quirk-suppressing handcuffs from one of her pouches. As she bent down to apprehend him, the criminal's head suddenly exploded like a gruesome balloon, blood and gore splattering in all directions. The warm, sticky liquid drenched Midnight's face, leaving her momentarily stunned. Her eyes widened in shock, and the only sound that escaped her lips was a disbelieving,
"Huh?"
[Hokkaido, at the same time...]
A pair of eyes flickered open, their pupils shifting from a foggy gray to a brilliant turquoise, then settling into a dark shade, as if different hues were battling for dominance. The mesmerizing gaze swept over the city skyline from the vantage point of a sprawling penthouse, the highest in the country. The eyes narrowed slightly, reflecting a mix of boredom and disinterest for the world below.
These eyes belonged to a strikingly beautiful young woman with vibrant blonde hair, styled in an elegant manner that matched her aristocratic air. Despite being clad in a thin, almost transparent bathrobe adorned with intricate floral patterns, she exuded an aura of danger and refinement. The patterns on the bathrobe were strategically placed to conceal her nipples and the intimate sight of her lower lips, but the sheer material left little to the imagination, hinting at the sinful contours of her body.
The woman held an exquisite wine glass in her right hand, her fingers delicately wrapped around the stem. Inside, a rich, ruby-red wine swirled gently, the motion expertly controlled to release the full flavor of her favorite drink.
"How much longer are you going to keep me waiting, Madam President?" The desperate male voice behind her was laced with a pleading edge, a mix of frustration and longing.
The blonde-haired lady, now revealed as Madam President, barely acknowledged the man's plea. She continued to swirl her wine, the ruby liquid catching the light as she gazed out at the city sprawled beneath her. A flicker of sadness briefly crossed her eyes, vanishing as quickly as it had come.
"Please!" The man's voice cracked with desperation. "I need you, Madam President!" His pleas were like a sweet symphony to her ears, a testament to her power and control.
"Tell me, you pathetic bastard," Madam President began, her voice soft yet laced with steel. "Would you betray me for some other whore?"
"N-No," the man stammered, his voice shaking with fear. "I would never! You're my one and only. You're all I'll ever need."
Madam President chuckled at the man's desperate words, a sound that was both amused and cruel. She turned around fluidly, her eyes locking onto the only other occupant of the sprawling suite. A man in his late forties laid helpless on a plush bed covered in pristine white sheets. He was entirely nude, his clothes nowhere to be seen, with only a thin white blanket haphazardly thrown over his most intimate part. His arms and legs were firmly restrained by thick jute ropes, which were tied to the four posts of the bed. The ropes were taut, promising to bite into his skin painfully if he struggled too much.
Her gaze lingered on his vulnerable form, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. She took a leisurely sip of her wine, savoring the taste and the power she held over him. The man squirmed slightly, his discomfort evident, but he couldn't hide the desperate, almost hopeful look in his eyes. Madam President's smirk deepened, knowing full well that his desire for her was as much a part of his torture as the ropes that bound him.
Madam President sauntered toward the man with the grace of a dancer, her hips swaying gently and seductively. She climbed onto the bed, her left knee sinking into the plush mattress. With a fluid motion, she straddled the man, her supple thighs now fully exposed as her sheer bathrobe parted, offering a tantalizing glimpse of the toned flesh beneath. Her gaze locked onto the man's eyes, disgust and disdain evident in her expression.
Raising her wine glass, she slowly and deliberately poured the cool liquid onto his chest. The wine pooled at the center of his chest, held in place by his quirk, which reduced the wettability of any liquid that touched his skin—a simple yet extraordinary ability that made this little trick possible.
The man shivered as the liquid made contact with his pale skin, the coolness catching him off guard. He instinctively strained against the ropes binding his wrists, the jute digging painfully into his flesh, eliciting a hiss of pain and discomfort. Madam President smiled, satisfied with the effect her actions had on him. She enjoyed the control, the power she held over him, as he writhed beneath her, trapped and at her mercy.
"Oh~" Madam President moaned, the authenticity of her pleasure known only to her. "What would your dear wife say if she heard you begging like that?" she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery as she began to bend down, her movements slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact with the man beneath her. She lowered herself until her chest pressed against his stomach, her ample breasts flattening against his abdomen, the thin fabric of her bathrobe doing little to conceal her erect nipples as they poked into his skin.
She extended her tongue, the tip lightly grazing his abdomen, and began to drag it upward in a slow, tantalizing manner. The man shuddered beneath her, his body responding despite the restraints. Madam President reveled in his discomfort, her mouth curving into a satisfied smirk as she continued her sensuous ascent, tracing a wet path up his torso until she reached the pool of wine resting on his chest.
Her supple lips formed a perfect O as she cupped them around the liquid, slurping it up with an audible sound that echoed in the otherwise silent room. The wine vanished almost instantly, leaving his skin glistening. Leaning in closer, she brought her lips just inches above his, their breaths mingling as she hovered there, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
With the delicate, slender thumb of her right hand, she parted the man's lips, forcing them open just enough to dump the wine she held in her mouth into his. "Oh, how utterly disappointed she would be in you," Madam President murmured, her smile a cruel twist of her lips. She straightened her back, shifting her position fluidly as she shed her sheer bathrobe, letting it pool around the man's thighs like a discarded fantasy.
Her hands pressed firmly against his abdomen, and she arched her back, squeezing her breasts together in a sensual display designed to drive him wild. "Tell me, Mr. Prime Minister," she purred, her voice dripping with seductive malice. "How would you like to be dominated?"
Izuku stood before his mother's grave, the cold stone staring back at him, silent and unyielding. In his right hand, he held a single lily, plucked from a stranger's garden on his way here—who could find a flower shop open at this late hour? He knelt down, placing the flower gently on the grave before standing back up. He drew a deep breath, his heart heavy with guilt and sadness.
"Hey, Mom," he whispered, his voice barely above the rustle of the leaves. "Sorry, I haven't talked to you in so long... I... Uh..." His eyes drooped in sadness to the fact that his mother probably deserved a better son than him. "I just thought you'd be so disappointed in me. I haven't been a good son, not by any means." He paused, a shaky, broken smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't listen to you, and look where that got me. But..." His smile softened, becoming more genuine. "But I was saved... by a Hero."
A soft chuckle escaped him at the thought. "You probably wouldn't have approved of her, though. But she's a great person. And I'm sure, if you'd met her, you would have thought so too."
A heavy sigh escaped Izuku's lips, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. "I'm sorry, Mom. I won't be able to visit you for a long time again." His gaze fell to the ground, tears threatening to spill over. "I have to repent for my sins, make sure no one else gets hurt because of what I'm about to do. I don't think my guilty conscience will let me follow my dream anymore... There's too much blood on my hands to ignore." He paused, his voice choking with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Mom... You must be really disappointed in me."
A determined expression settled on Izuku's face as he looked up, meeting the cold gaze of his mother's gravestone. "It's time I make my first independent choice, Mom. So... for one last time, watch over me, okay?" He took a step back, casting one final glance at the grave before turning to his left and beginning to walk away.
Just as he was about to round a corner, a sudden breeze caressed his face, as if an unseen force was urging him to turn back. Unconsciously, Izuku slowed his steps and turned around. His eyes widened in disbelief as they fell upon the apparition of his mother, standing there, watching him with a soft, sad smile.
His mother stood before him, her form gossamer and ethereal, bathed in the silver light of the moon. She looked just as beautiful as he remembered, that loving smile still etched on her face. Her translucent figure shimmered, giving her an otherworldly, angelic beauty that took his breath away.
Slowly, she raised her right hand, the one that had been grasping her left over her waist, and stretched it skyward. She struck All Might's iconic 'I Am Here' pose, her smile growing broader and prouder. Izuku's heart swelled at the sight.
Another soft breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it a whisper, a strand of words that seemed to travel from beyond the grave. His mother's voice reached his ears, soft and ethereal.
"Good luck, Izu-chan."
A single tear slipped down Izuku's cheek, the sound of his mother's voice washing over him like a soothing balm. He didn't know if it was his mind playing tricks on him or if it was truly her, but he clung to the memory, wanting to etch her soft voice into his heart forever. When he looked back, her apparition had vanished, leaving only the cool night air.
But Izuku felt invigorated, a newfound warmth spreading through him. He felt happy, knowing that his mother was still watching over him from wherever she was. This new knowledge fueled his determination, filling him with a renewed sense of purpose. He pulled his mask back on.
It was time, to pay for his sins.
A pair of dark, brooding eyes gazed up at the overcast sky, lost in thoughts of a conversation with a certain vigilante from about a month ago. Eren stood behind the expansive window of his bedroom, his reflection staring back at him against the gloomy backdrop.
"Eren," a gentle, feminine voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see his stunning wife, Mikasa, reclining on their bed, nestled under a crimson blanket. Her eyes held a hint of worry.
"Aren't you coming to bed?" Mikasa asked, her voice a soft invitation.
Eren cast one last glance at the sullen sky before turning and walking towards the bed. He climbed in, his body sinking into the plush mattress as he lay down on his back.
Mikasa shifted closer, her hand coming to rest on his bare chest. She propped herself up on her other arm, her eyes searching his face with concern. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Eren looked at her from the corner of his eyes, his expression softening. "I'm fine," he said, his tone steady and reassuring. "You don't need to worry about me."
Mikasa, however, wasn't convinced. "Is it about Night Crawler?" she probed, her voice a soft murmur in the dimly lit room.
Eren turned to her, a curious look in his eyes. "Why would you think that?"
Mikasa shifted closer a bit more, her hand tracing gentle patterns on his chest. "Ever since you met him in private, you've seemed... off. Like something's been bothering you."
Eren's gaze drifted to the ceiling, his eyes reflecting the muted light filtering through the window. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm just glad that our girl has us with her. I can't bear the thought of her being alone in the world, without us."
Mikasa's hand stilled on his chest, her eyes searching his face. "Eren," she said softly, "what did you even talk about with Night Crawler that has you so shaken?"
A brief pause of hesitation hung in the air before Eren finally spoke. "I learned that this world is cruel, and we're only making it crueler."
"What do you mean?" Mikasa asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
Instead of answering, Eren turned towards her, wrapping his arm around her slender waist. "Let's sleep," he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm, signaling the end of the conversation.
Mikasa sensed his turmoil and decided not to press him further. She could ask him another time. For now, all she wanted was to offer him the comfort he needed. She nestled closer, her body melding against his, the warmth reminding her of their youth.
The President of the HPSC pushed open the heavy metallic door to her office, the squeal of its hinges cutting through the pre-dawn silence. Sunrise was still an hour away. Her late-night rendezvous with the Prime Minister had left the poor man unconscious, a result of two hours of relentless stimulation with no release. She smirked, knowing it was his third month of this torturous routine.
Closing the door behind her with a soft click, she glided towards her desk, her eyes scanning the chaotic mess of papers scattered across its surface. "You know," she began, her voice cool and detached, "it's quite rude to enter someone's space and mess with their things." She turned to face the shadowy figure lurking in the dim corner of the room.
The figure stepped forward, emerging from the darkness into the faint glow of the dawn streaming through the window. His black armor shimmered ominously, and his right hand was outstretched, a gun aimed directly at the President.
"Where did you find that?" she asked, her gaze locked on the weapon, her expression as unreadable as ever.
Izuku shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "When you've walked in the shadows as long as I have, you learn about places that deal in things like this."
The President raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference to his remark. "What do you think you're doing, Izuku?" she asked again, her voice cool and collected.
Izuku took several more steps forward, the gun in his hand unwavering, pointed directly at her. "I'm done," he murmured, his voice laced with resolve.
"Done?" The President echoed, genuine confusion in her voice. "Done with what, exactly?"
A dark chuckle escaped Izuku's lips. "With your little pathetic games. I'm done being your puppet, done dancing to your whims." His gaze hardened as he looked at her with unbridled disgust. "I'm done being your toy, Pres-you old hag."
The President released a tired sigh, leaning back against her desk. She placed her left hand on the cluttered surface and her right hand on her hip, striking a relaxed pose despite the situation. Her eyes held blatant disappointment as she stared at him. "I see... So, you're saying you're done saving people from criminals? You're done doing what the Heroes refuse to do? You're just going to leave innocent people to rot in this hellhole?"
For a fleeting moment, Izuku's vision blurred, and his resolve wavered. A sudden, gnawing doubt crept into his mind. Then, something strange happened. A burst of light flashed before his eyes, and his vision was filled with a star-filled sky. Images of Midnight and his mother flickered in his mind's eye, followed by a sharp, splitting headache that vanished as quickly as it had come.
When Izuku's gaze snapped back into focus, he caught the slightest hint of shock on the President's face. So, she had been using her quirk on him, trying to sow doubt and confusion. "So, you can use multiple quirks?" Izuku rasped, taking deep breaths to steady his nerves.
The President's expression remained cool and detached. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her tone dismissive and indifferent.
"Of course," Izuku murmured, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "I was a fool to think you ever cared for me."
"I cared for you," the President snapped, her lips tightening in annoyance at the accusation.
"You have a funny way of showing it," Izuku retorted, his laughter dark and laced with irony.
"So, you're just going to forget everything I've done for you, huh?" The President stated bitterly, her voice rising with each word that escaped her lips. "Don't you dare forget, it was me who healed you after every grueling training session. It was me who looked after you when you were exhausted, pushed beyond your limits. It was me who cooked you meals every day, making sure you had something warm and nourishing to start and end your day." Her voice quivered with barely contained anger and disappointment. "And you're just going to forget all of this? For what? Because that damned slut whispered lies in your ear! I am the one who shaped you into who you are today, Izuku! I am the one who gave you proper training! I am the one who gave you the chance to hone your quirk! I am the one who trained you to be a protector! Without me, you would be nothing!"
"Oh, no, no, no." Izuku shook his head, hearty chuckles bubbling up from deep within his chest. "You didn't train me to be a protector. You trained me to be a murderer. A fucking monster lurking in the shadows! The complete opposite of what a true Hero is supposed to be!"
"Oh for fuck's sake, Izuku! Get off your high horse!" The President yelled, her voice cracking with unbridled fury. Her eyes were wide with madness, and her face contorted with pure, seething anger and hate. "You wanted to be a Hero! I gave you the power to be one! I trained you into the perfect Hero, the one who could have surpassed even All Might!"
"Perfect Hero?" Izuku interjected, his voice matching hers in intensity. "Or the perfect tool!?"
The President stormed closer to Izuku, stopping just three feet away from him. Izuku stood his ground, his hand still steady as he held the gun pointed at her. To take a step back now would be to admit defeat, and he wasn't about to concede anything to her. "What has that whore done to you? She's corrupted you with false ideals! Can't you see? It's these ideals that have led us to this rotten society in the first place! They've cursed us to this hellhole!" Her voice was a venomous hiss. "I was training you so you could break this cycle. To rise above all other Heroes and be the true beacon, the true Symbol of Peace, unlike that fraud All Might!"
"You're right," Izuku whispered, nodding his head slowly. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between them. "But it's these ideals that separate Heroes from murderers and criminals, from villains. Heroes are idealistic because that is what they are meant to be. In a different world, a world where Heroes don't exist, maybe these ideals don't mean a damn thing. But this isn't that world. This is a Heroes' World. And it's these ideals that keep it from crumbling into chaos."
The President stared at Izuku, her eyes widening in stunned silence. Her gaze softened, a flicker of something akin to vulnerability appearing in her expression. "So, what now? You kill me?" she asked, her voice suddenly subdued, almost gentle.
Izuku held her gaze for a long moment before lowering his gun. He walked past her, heading towards her desk. "I don't want to kill you," he said, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've decided to stray from that path." He paused beside the desk, turning to face her once more. Their eyes locked, and to Izuku's surprise, he saw a glimmer of sadness in the President's eyes. "I am indebted to you for giving me a shelter when I had none. I am grateful for your training and your time."
Izuku laid a hand on one of the many files scattered across the President's desk. "But I also know how ruthless you can be," he said, his voice steady as he picked up a file and turned it to face her. Her eyes lit up with recognition and a hint of panic. "That's why I need to make sure you can't hurt anyone while I'm not here."
The President's brow furrowed, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead as nervousness gripped her. "Where did you get those files?" she demanded, her voice tinged with disbelief. That file was highly classified, and even Yukimiru didn't have access to it.
"Oh, these files?" Izuku glanced briefly at them before locking eyes with the President again. "You'd be surprised how much people overlook when you're just a kid with a doe-eyed look." He paused, shaking his head slowly. "To think that the HPSC was behind the death of the Royal family during the first Civil War. But then again, I shouldn't be surprised, should I?"
"Why are you doing this?" the President asked, her voice edged with frustration as she gritted her teeth.
Izuku, to her absolute surprise, suddenly tossed the gun towards her. The President caught it effortlessly, her reflexes sharp as ever. "I'm giving you a good reason to kill me," Izuku said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm tired of this life anyway. I think it's time I paid for my sins."
He placed the file back on the desk, freeing his hand, then stretched both arms out to his sides. "Go on. Kill me. I won't activate my Infinity, so the bullet will hit me for real." He looked at her with a challenging gaze. "All you have to do is pull that trigger, and no one will ever know about the dirty deeds of the HPSC."
The President stared at Izuku as if he had lost his mind. "Have you gone mad?" she asked in disbelief, her voice laced with surprise. "What is this nonsense?"
"Isn't that what you wanted me to be, though?" Izuku countered, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "A mindless tool that would do all your biddings without question?" He glided closer, placing himself just a foot away from her. Grabbing her hand that held the gun, he raised it and pressed the cold barrel of the gun against the center of his forehead. "Go on. This is as easy as it gets. Pull the trigger, old hag, and it'll all be over. Or do you need help with that too?"
But the President violently wrenched her hand away, flinging the gun to the side before delivering a sharp, stinging slap across Izuku's left cheek. "Enough with this foolishness!" she snapped, her voice stern and unyielding. "What do you truly want?"
"So, I was right," Izuku muttered, suddenly bursting out into diabolical laughter. Once he regained control, he looked at the President, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You can't kill me, can you? Or maybe you don't want to kill me. Why? Because of that idiotic prophecy of yours—that the fate of our world is connected to mine." He laughed again at the absurdity of it all. "To think that someone like you would believe in something as ridiculous as that."
Izuku shook his head, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of frustration and disappointment clear on his face. "But that's good. That helps me a lot."
The President's brow furrowed, her concern growing with every strange comment Izuku made. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
A knowing smile spread across Izuku's face, his eyes gleaming with a hint of challenge. "I know you're fully aware of Ms. Midnight's—Nemuri Kayama's—involvement in my recent...shall we say, rebellious behavior." He extended his right hand for a handshake, his expression suddenly growing serious and grave. "And now, I need a promise from you. Swear on your life that you will not harm Ms. Midnight, Nemuri Kayama, or anyone close to her."
The President's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"
Izuku shrugged, his gaze unwavering. "It's simple. All you need to do is vow on your life that you will not lay a hand on Ms. Midnight, Nemuri Kayama, or any of her loved ones. In return, I—and by extension, my little helper—will make sure these documents never see the light of day. And trust me, if these documents are released, you'll have every Hero in this country after you."
"How much do you know?" The President asked in apprehension.
"What about the Chinese Ambassador?" Izuku asked, feigning innocence. "I heard he died due to a misfire from his quirk. Or was he?"
The President's jaw clenched tightly, and she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. After a few tense moments of hesitation, she firmly grasped Izuku's hand in a handshake. "I vow on my life not to lay a hand on or harm Ms. Midnight, Nemuri Kayama, or any of her loved ones," she said, her voice steady despite the unspoken war raging within her.
Izuku held her gaze for a moment longer before releasing her hand. "And I vow not to release these documents to the public if you keep your word," he stated, his tone as unyielding as steel. He pivoted sharply and walked briskly towards the door. Pausing briefly, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Oh, by the way, those documents," he said, pointing at the file on the desk, "they're just copies from the Xerox machine downstairs. The real ones are safely secured somewhere else." With that parting shot, Izuku left, leaving the President alone in her office.
The President walked slowly to her desk, her gaze fixed on the xeroxed files scattered across its surface. A wave of anger swept over her, and she lashed out, sweeping the contents of her desk to the floor with a savage swipe. A raw, agonized scream tore from her throat. "FUCK!" All her hard work, all her time, all the effort she had poured into her plans—everything was crumbling before her eyes.
Just because of that damn slut.
This was indeed a painful, infuriating outcome.
Izuku stood frozen, his gaze locked onto the building before him, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. Behind it, the first tendrils of sunlight began to creep over the horizon. Ironic, considering this was his first steps away from the darkness that had become his constant companion. He shifted his focus to the sign hanging above the entrance, the words etched clearly in his mind despite the mask obscuring half his face.
TOKYO POLICE STATION
This was it—the point of no return. Time to atone for the sins that stained his hands, to pay the debt that hung like a noose around his neck. His vigilante armor clung to his body, a stark reminder of the path that had led him here.
With a measured stride, Izuku approached the station's entrance. Each step felt like a marker of his resolve, his boots echoing sharply against the pavement. He pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, the sudden silence falling like a guillotine. Every eye in the room turned to him, the weight of their gazes pressing down like a vice.
Izuku's eyes scanned the crowd, taking in the mixture of shock and recognition on the faces of both civilians and officers. There was no turning back now, no escape from the weight of his actions. He advanced further into the station, his pulse pounding in his ears, until a familiar figure emerged from the throng and stood before him, just a few feet away.
"Night Crawler." The words were flat, devoid of any emotion.
"Detective Tsukauchi," Izuku responded, a slight nod accompanying his greeting.
Tsukauchi's gaze narrowed, suspicion etched deep into his features. "What are you doing here?" Was he after a criminal? He himself had arrived at the station after some officers had informed him about the incident at 54th Street and Midnight's involvement. Apparently, the X-Rated Heroine had claimed exhaustion and left with the promise that she would report first thing tomorrow morning. Was Night Crawler here for one of the perps they'd collared on the way?
However, Izuku's next move caught everyone off guard. In a swift, fluid motion, he dropped to his knees, his arms raised in a surrender pose that was equal parts desperate and resolute. "I'm here to turn myself in."
Tsukauchi stared, his eyes wide with shock. The word escaped his lips like a reflex, disbelief coating every syllable. "What?" This felt surreal, like a scene from a dream he couldn't quite grasp.
What the hell was going on?
Chapter End
Next Chapter: Does Izuku go to jail or is he let go? Find out next chapter