Hey, guys. BD with another installment of 'CTRL ALT Desire!' Before reading, this chapter involves heavy content that may not be suitable for readers. Discretion is advised.
In this chapter, Denki is trying to connect the dots involving Izuku's disappearance and Lady Nagant. Meanwhile, Shouta is at a crossroads with the incidents at UA and is trying to get a grip of things. Later, Kaina is met with a request and a request she really can't refuse. What will happen? Read and see. Enjoy!
The all-black, window-tinted sedan glided smoothly down the road, the hum of the engine barely audible inside the car as Denki, Itsuka, and Minoru made their way back to school. The atmosphere inside the vehicle was heavy, each of them dealing with their own thoughts and anxieties in their own way. Itsuka sat silently in the back seat, her head leaning against the cool glass of the window, her eyes distant as she stared at the passing cityscape. The weight of everything they had learned, everything she had experienced, hung heavily on her shoulders, and it showed in her slumped posture and the way she kept withdrawing into herself.
Minoru, on the other hand, was doing what he always did when the tension became too much—escaping into a video game on his phone. The soft clicking of his fingers against the screen was the only sound he made as he tried to distract himself from the ever-present fear that gnawed at him. His mind might be focused on the game, but Denki knew that, deep down, Minoru was worrying about his future. They all were.
Denki, sitting in the middle seat, was furiously typing away on his own phone, trying to find any trace of Lady Nagant in the public sphere. He sifted through articles, databases, and public documents, hoping to find something—anything—that would give them a better understanding of who she really was. But every search ended the same way: with nothing. No real photos, no detailed profiles, nothing beyond a few vague mentions of her as a former Pro Hero gone rogue. It was like she had been erased from the public eye, her legacy as a shadow operative leaving no trace for them to follow.
He cursed softly under his breath, frustrated by how little information was available. Every dead end only made the situation feel more hopeless, but Denki refused to give in to that feeling. He couldn't. Minoru's livelihood was hanging by a thread, as was Itsuka's emotional well-being. Hell, his own future was at risk too—he had inserted himself into this mess and was in too deep to walk away now.
Still, they had a name. Lady Nagant. At least now, the shadow had a face, even if it was only from that rough sketch. Denki couldn't help but feel unsettled by the fact that someone so dangerous was now in their orbit, targeting them because of their connection to Izuku. And what worried him most was Uwabami's promise to handle it herself. She was a capable Pro Hero, but Denki knew it wasn't sitting well with Minoru, and he understood why. They had been trying to protect each other, to stay involved in every step of the process to bring Izuku home—and now they were being asked to trust that someone else would take care of it.
For now, though, Denki knew they had to trust Uwabami. There was no other choice. She had more experience dealing with high-profile threats like Lady Nagant, and if she believed it was best left in her hands, Denki would have to hope that she was right.
He glanced over at Minoru, who was still absorbed in his game, and then at Itsuka, who hadn't moved from her place against the window. The weight of everything they had been through pressed heavily on his chest, and he couldn't shake the feeling that they were on the edge of something far bigger than they had anticipated. They were dealing with dangerous people, and though they were all Pro Hero students, the stakes had never felt this high.
Denki put his phone down for a moment and let his eyes drift out the window. The city continued to pass by in a blur of lights and shadows, but his mind was racing. He wasn't ready to give up. He would keep looking, keep digging, and find a way to help Izuku. They weren't finished yet, no matter how impossible it felt right now.
With a sigh, Denki leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.
With his eyes closed, Denki let his mind drift back over the series of events that had led them to this moment. It had all started when Minoru had shown him the damning photos—images of Itsuka and Yui in a compromising position. The photos had arrived via email from a cryptic, anonymous source, leaving no trace of who had sent them. The shock of seeing those pictures had been bad enough, but when Minoru had connected them to the strange woman who had been stalking them, it became clear that this was something far more dangerous than simple blackmail.
Denki and Minoru had gone to Itsuka immediately, seeking confirmation. The tension in that meeting had been unbearable—Itsuka's shame and anger barely hidden beneath the surface. And that's when they learned the truth of her assault, confirming that Izuku's disappearance was somehow tied to the same incident. The purple-haired woman wasn't just a mysterious figure in the shadows anymore. She had a name. Lady Nagant. A rogue hero with a history of assassinations and manipulation, who had now taken an interest in them and Izuku for reasons they still couldn't fully grasp.
Now, as Denki sat there in the back of the car with his eyes closed, he tried to connect the dots. The situation felt like a tangled web of lies, threats, and secrets, and the more they tried to unravel it, the tighter the knot seemed to get. One thing he did know for certain was that they couldn't keep this hidden much longer. By telling Uwabami, they had effectively put the wheels in motion. He knew it was only a matter of time before Principal Nezu found out, and when he did, there would be consequences. Severe consequences.
Denki grimaced at the thought. Nezu wasn't someone you could hide things from—not for long. Once he learned that Denki and Minoru had been withholding critical information, he and the others were definitely going to tear into them. And Denki couldn't even blame them. He'd put himself in a precarious position by staying involved and trying to handle things on his own, but what choice did he have? How could he just sit back when people he cared about were in danger?
Everything was a mess, a convoluted, high-stakes mess. Lady Nagant was dangerous, possibly far more dangerous than any of them had truly realized. The photos, the assault, Izuku's disappearance—it was all connected, but the threads weren't clear yet. Denki knew they were missing something, a key piece of the puzzle that would help everything make sense. But what could he do? They were in over their heads, and even though Uwabami had promised to take over, Denki couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't something he could walk away from.
He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking out the window as the city continued to pass by. He was in this now, whether he liked it or not. And the consequences of withholding this information were looming, but more than that, the safety of his friends and the mystery of Izuku's fate weighed heavily on his mind.
Denki knew he had to keep pushing forward, no matter what happened. For Itsuka, for Minoru, for Izuku. They had started down this path together, and even though things were spiraling out of control, Denki couldn't allow himself to walk away from it now. There was too much at stake, and he wouldn't stop until they found the answers they needed.
"She was a top operative for the Hero Public Safety Commission, tasked with handling matters in the shadows. Assassinations, covert operations—things most people wouldn't associate with heroes."
Denki sat up suddenly, his eyes lighting up as a realization struck him. "Electrify!" he blurted out, his voice cutting through the quiet atmosphere inside the car, startling both Itsuka and Minoru out of their thoughts.
Itsuka turned to him with a furrowed brow, her confusion apparent. "What do you mean, 'electrify?'" she asked, her voice tentative as she eyed him with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Denki's mind was buzzing with an idea, his heart beating faster as the pieces started to come together. "Uwabami mentioned that Lady Nagant used to work for the Hero Public Safety Commission, right? Well, anything tied to them has to be archived somewhere—especially if she was involved in official hero work. The school library has all kinds of old records and hero files. I'm thinking we could find something there. Maybe not the classified stuff, but older reports, case studies—something we can use to piece this together."
Minoru, who had been watching Denki with skepticism, shook his head. "But Denki, that wouldn't make sense. Lady Nagant was handling covert operations—assassinations, even. There's no way the Hero Public Safety Commission would let any of that information slip into the public records. It's all classified."
Denki nodded, acknowledging Minoru's point, but his mind was still racing ahead. "You're right, Minoru. Most of it would be locked up, probably buried deep. But think about it—there's always a chance that something isn't classified. Maybe it's been redacted or toned down for public consumption. And if we dig deep enough, we might find an image of her, a more complete history, maybe even her real name. At the very least, it's a place to start."
Itsuka shifted in her seat, her expression clouded with doubt. "Denki, that's a long shot," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Heroes and villains don't have their real names or addresses just floating around in public databases. They're protected for a reason. What makes you think you can find her like that?"
Denki leaned forward, his eyes filled with determination. "I know it's a stretch, but we don't have many leads. Besides, if we don't try, we're back to square one. And remember Hitoshi—she was able to find us a sketch artist with connections. I bet she knows people who deal in information too. Musutafu has an underbelly—there are people who trade in secrets, people Hitoshi could tap into."
Itsuka hesitated for a moment, processing Denki's logic, before finally nodding. "Okay," she said slowly. "You're right. We need to start somewhere. And Hitoshi... she might be able to dig up something in those circles."
Denki felt a surge of relief that Itsuka was on board, but when he glanced at Minoru, he noticed something was off. Minoru had gone visibly pale, his body stiff, his eyes wide with unease. The playful energy he had when playing his video game earlier had completely drained away, replaced by an anxious tension that filled the air around him.
"Minoru?" Denki asked, his voice softening with concern. "Are you okay?"
Minoru's voice wavered as he spoke, the fear evident in his tone. "Y-yeah, I just… I don't know. What if we're getting in over our heads? Lady Nagant is dangerous. We could be making this worse for ourselves, not better. What if... what if we can't handle this?"
Denki reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Minoru's shoulder, trying to offer him a sense of calm. "I understand, Minoru," he said gently. "You're right to be scared. This is dangerous, and we're in deep. But we're already involved. Backing out now isn't going to change that. We need to stay smart and careful—and if we do, we can find the information we need without putting ourselves in more danger."
Itsuka turned her gaze to Minoru, her expression softening slightly. "We'll be careful," she echoed Denki's sentiment. "I know this is scary, but this is about more than just us now. It's about finding Izuku and stopping Lady Nagant before she hurts anyone else. We can't afford to stop now."
Minoru hesitated, his eyes darting between Denki and Itsuka before he reluctantly nodded. "Okay," he murmured, though the fear hadn't fully left his voice. "I'll follow your lead. But… let's be cautious."
Denki gave him a reassuring smile and patted him on the back. "We will. We'll take it one step at a time."
The car continued to glide smoothly through the streets, the city lights casting long shadows through the tinted windows as they passed. The conversation died down, each of them sinking back into their thoughts, the weight of the situation hanging over them like a thick fog.
Denki felt a sense of dread creeping up on him again, but he forced himself to push it down. They have made progress today. They had a name—Lady Nagant—and a plan, however uncertain it might be. The school library could be their next step, and with Hitoshi's help, they might even be able to uncover more than they expected.
A few minutes later….
As the car neared the school, they were greeted by a chaotic scene of flashing red and blue lights. Police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances were clustered around the main entrance, their lights illuminating the night with an eerie glow. A large crowd had gathered outside, curious and tense, watching as emergency personnel moved swiftly in and out of the building. The air was thick with the kind of heavy anticipation that only comes with the presence of something terrible.
Denki's heart dropped as he took in the scene, anxiety already coiling tightly in his chest. "Stop the car," he instructed the driver, his voice urgent. The vehicle came to a halt, and before it had even fully stopped, the three of them—Denki, Itsuka, and Minoru—had flung open the doors and rushed toward the school entrance.
They weaved through the crowd, the flashing lights reflecting in their wide eyes, their breaths quick with fear and adrenaline. As they neared the front, they spotted familiar faces among the crowd—classmates from U.A., but their expressions were somber, their eyes heavy with grief and shock.
Denki pushed his way through, his eyes scanning the faces until they landed on Tenya, who stood a few feet from the entrance, his usually composed face etched with worry. He was speaking in low, careful tones to some of their other classmates, including Setsuna, Ibara, and Pony, all of whom had tear-streaked faces. Denki's gut twisted at the sight, a sense of dread washing over him.
"What's going on?" Denki asked, his voice thick with fear.
Tenya turned to him, his jaw clenched, his gaze serious but strained. His eyes briefly flickered to Itsuka before he spoke. "There's been an incident," he said cautiously, choosing his words with care.
Itsuka's heart dropped like a stone in her chest, her breath hitching in her throat. "What do you mean, an incident?" she demanded, her voice shaky as she took a step closer to Tenya. His hesitation sent alarm bells ringing in her head, and her hands instinctively balled into fists.
Before Tenya could respond, Itsuka's eyes fell on Setsuna, Ibara, and Pony standing nearby, their cheeks wet with tears, their shoulders hunched as they cried silently. Seeing their broken expressions, the dread in her stomach intensified, turning into something sharp and painful. Itsuka's body went rigid as fear took hold of her heart.
She whirled back to Tenya, panic rising in her voice. "What do you mean by an incident?" she demanded again, this time shoving her hands against his chest in desperation. "Tell me!"
Tenya looked deeply pained as he swallowed hard, his eyes filled with sorrow. He hesitated for a brief moment, but there was no avoiding the truth. "Present Mic found Yui unresponsive in her dorm earlier," he said quietly. "The paramedics are working on her now, but that's all we know."
The words hit Itsuka like a physical blow, the air rushing out of her lungs as her knees buckled slightly. Her mind struggled to process what he was saying, the world around her blurring as her heart raced uncontrollably. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her body trembling with shock.
"Yui..." Itsuka whispered, her voice trembling as she took a step back, the name like a plea escaping her lips. Then, suddenly, her fear and pain erupted into a visceral scream. "YUI!" she cried, her voice cracking with anguish as she tried to bolt toward the building.
Before she could reach the doors, two of her male classmates, Tetsutetsu and Neito, grabbed her by the arms, holding her back. Itsuka thrashed in their grip, her screams filling the air as tears streamed down her face. She struggled with everything she had, trying to break free, desperate to reach Yui. "Let me go!" she cried out. "YUI! YUI!"
Tetsutetsu and Neito tightened their grip, their own faces etched with pain as they tried to calm her, though it was impossible to soothe the storm of emotions raging inside her. Her screams of Yui's name echoed in the night, a raw and heartbreaking sound that cut through the chaos around them.
Denki watched helplessly, his own heart pounding in his chest as he turned to look at Minoru. He needed to say something, needed to figure out what they should do next. But when his eyes met Minoru's, his stomach twisted with something darker. Minoru couldn't meet his gaze, his face pale and tight with guilt as he turned away, his body stiff with tension.
Denki's mind raced, trying to piece together what this meant, but all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of dread creeping in from the edges. Something was terribly wrong, and whatever it was, it had them all in its grip now.
Later that night….
Shouta lit the cigarette with a trembling hand, the flicker of the flame momentarily illuminating his weathered face. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself this vice, but tonight felt like a breaking point. The nightfall breeze, cool and damp with the smell of rain in the distance, swirled around him as he stood in the quiet pavilion of the hospital courtyard. The soft glow from the hospital's windows spilled onto the pavement, casting long shadows that danced with the subtle gusts of wind. His mind was a storm of emotions, so tangled that words seemed meaningless.
He took a deep drag from the cigarette, the familiar burn in his lungs a strangely comforting sensation amidst the chaos that had become his life. The smoke unfurled from his lips and drifted upwards, dissipating into the night like the control he was desperately trying to hold onto.
Earlier that day, Shouta had been entrenched in the tense atmosphere of the Hero Commission's hearing. He, Nemuri, and Nezu had sat under relentless questioning, feeling the pressure of the Commission's scrutiny bearing down on them, their every decision regarding Izuku's disappearance being dissected. The atmosphere had been suffocating, the stakes higher than ever.
Then came the call that shattered what little stability remained. Hizashi's voice over the phone was strained, filled with a dread that Shouta had rarely heard from his typically upbeat friend. Yui Kodai had been found unresponsive in her dorm room, her attempt to end her life a devastating cry for help that none of them had seen coming. The guilt hit Shouta like a tidal wave, making it hard to breathe. He had rushed here with Nemuri and Nezu as soon as they could break away from the hearing, but standing outside now, cigarette in hand, he felt utterly powerless.
The events of the past week were playing out in his mind like a slow, agonizing montage. It had been over a week since Izuku vanished without a trace—over a week of fruitless searching, restless nights, and the mounting pressure from the public and the Commission. There had been no clues, no sign of where Izuku could be. Then came the commotion at the vigil—Yui and Itsuka's outburst, an incident that had seemed strange but insignificant at the time. And now, this: Yui's attempt on her own life, a stark and painful reminder of the human cost of everything that had happened.
Shouta exhaled another cloud of smoke, the acrid scent clinging to the air around him as he tilted his head back to gaze up at the night sky. The stars were faint, barely visible against the light pollution of the city, but they were there—distant and unreachable, much like the answers he sought.
For the first time in a long while, Shouta felt completely out of his depth. He wasn't one to pray or seek solace in divine intervention, but now, with the weight of everything pressing down on him, he found himself silently asking—pleading—for something to change.
"God, something has to give," he whispered hoarsely, his voice swallowed by the stillness of the night. His breath hitched in his throat, the words tinged with the desperation of a man on the brink.
He felt raw, hollowed out by the strain of the past week. The cigarette between his fingers had burned low, its embers glowing faintly before he crushed it underfoot, extinguishing the last bit of warmth it had provided. The ash crumbled on the pavement, scattered by the wind, and for a moment, Shouta just stared at it, feeling that it was a fitting metaphor for how everything seemed to be falling apart.
His thoughts drifted back to Yui, now lying in a sterile hospital bed just beyond the walls. Guilt clawed at him relentlessly. He should have seen the signs, should have done more. What kind of teacher was he if he couldn't even protect his students from themselves? He thought of Izuku, still missing, and the endless torment that plagued his mind at not knowing where the boy was or what had happened to him. The pressure, the responsibility, it all seemed to be slipping through his fingers like the smoke that had now disappeared into the night.
Steeling himself, Shouta straightened up, feeling the cold air biting at his skin. He couldn't afford to linger in his own despair, no matter how heavy it felt. Too much was at stake—Yui's life, Izuku's safety, the future of UA itself. Failure wasn't an option. Not now. Not ever.
Taking one last deep breath of the night air, Shouta turned back toward the hospital. The quiet hum of life inside contrasted sharply with the darkness he felt looming over them all. He squared his shoulders, pushing aside the swirling emotions. There was no room for weakness now. He had to be strong, for his students, for his friends, for everyone counting on him.
Shouta stepped back into the hospital waiting room, the harsh fluorescent lights casting a pale glow over the sterile space. The quiet hum of the air conditioning was the only sound that broke the stillness as the clock edged closer to midnight. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on his shoulders as he took a seat, sinking into the stiff hospital chair.
The television mounted on the wall flickered to life, replaying the news broadcast for what felt like the hundredth time. He glanced up, unsurprised by what he saw but still feeling the knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. The incident had dominated the news cycle for days. First, Izuku's disappearance—a shockwave that had rocked the school and the public alike. And now this: Yui Kodai's suicide attempt, plastered across every screen in the city.
The anchor's voice was calm, but the weight of her words made Shouta feel sick. The re-broadcast shifted to speculation, as reporters and commentators began drawing their own conclusions. They subtly hinted at the notion that Izuku's disappearance might have been the catalyst for Yui's desperate act. The media had already started weaving a narrative, questioning whether there was a connection between the two events. And then, of course, came the attorney's public statement—questioning UA's competence and implying negligence in both cases.
Shouta clenched his fists, the frustration and helplessness bubbling up inside him. The attorney's words played over in his mind like a haunting echo: "UA is responsible for the safety of their students, yet we have one missing and another who attempted to take her life. This level of incompetence cannot be ignored."
The firestorm that followed only fueled the media's relentless pursuit for scandal. There was no sympathy, no compassion—just sensationalism, feeding on tragedy like vultures.
For the first time in a long time, Shouta felt genuinely ill. His stomach twisted, the bile rising in his throat as he realized the full extent of what was happening. UA's reputation, his own as a teacher, their ability to protect their students—it was all crumbling under the weight of public scrutiny and legal accusations.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his temples in an attempt to stave off the throbbing headache that had settled behind his eyes. The endless speculation from the media only deepened the guilt gnawing at him. He had been so focused on finding Izuku, on keeping the Commission at bay, that he hadn't seen Yui's struggle until it was too late.
The thought of Yui lying in her hospital bed, a fragile and broken shadow of the bright young student she once was, made his heart ache. He had failed her, failed Izuku—failed all of them. The guilt was a suffocating weight pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe.
The news report continued droning in the background, its words blending into a blur of accusations and theories. He barely heard it now, too lost in the fog of his own thoughts. How did it come to this? How had everything spiraled so far out of control?
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to center himself, but it did little to alleviate the nausea swirling in his gut. Every failure seemed to pile on top of the last—one more student hurt, one more tragedy looming.
Shouta took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of sickness that had settled deep within him. But he knew this wasn't something he could just shake off. The stakes were higher than ever. And though he felt utterly overwhelmed, he had to keep going. There were still students to protect, still hoping to salvage.
Nemuri entered the hospital, her usual sultry persona replaced by a quiet, almost somber presence. She was dressed simply in a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, her hair tied back loosely. In her hands, she carried two takeout bags. Spotting Shouta sitting in the corner of the waiting room, she walked over and sat across from him, the chair creaking slightly under her weight.
Without a word, she handed him one of the bags. "Soup," she said softly, her tone leaving little room for argument.
Shouta, exhausted and feeling hollow, initially declined with a shake of his head. But Nemuri wasn't having it. Her eyes held firm, knowing exactly what he needed even if he didn't want to admit it. "Eat, Shouta. Please," she urged gently.
He relented, uncapping the top of the container and picking up the spoon. The steam from the soup curled into the cool air, and though he didn't have much of an appetite, he began eating out of respect for Nemuri's effort. She placed her own salad on her lap and began to eat quietly, the room filled only with the subtle rustling of their meal.
Nemuri glanced at the television. The same endless cycle of news coverage was still blaring, more accusations and theories flashing across the screen. Her jaw tightened as she stood up, catching the attention of an orderly nearby. "Can you please change the channel?" she asked, her voice controlled but weary. "Or just turn it off?"
The orderly nodded sympathetically and changed the channel to an innocuous infomercial selling kitchen gadgets. Nemuri sat back down with a sigh, returning her attention to Shouta.
"Kodai's parents are on their way," she said, her voice quieter now. "Nezu thinks it's best if we make ourselves scarce when they arrive."
Shouta simply nodded, not looking up from his soup. He understood—sometimes their presence, as authority figures, wasn't helpful in moments of raw grief. Kodai's parents wouldn't want to see them right now.
Nemuri hesitated for a moment, then asked, "How's Yui?"
Shouta's hand paused, the spoon resting in the soup for a beat before he responded. "They've placed her in a medically induced coma," he said, his voice thick with exhaustion. "I don't have many details yet—her dorm's an active crime scene. They're still investigating."
Nemuri's face darkened, though she tried to mask her own feelings. She hated to push, but she had to know. "What…did she do, Shouta?"
Shouta sighed, putting his spoon down and rubbing his forehead. "According to Hizashi, he found a pill bottle in her hand. What kind, we're not sure yet. But it was enough that they had to use three cans of Narcan to revive her."
Nemuri closed her eyes for a brief moment, the reality of it sinking in. "God," she whispered, shaking her head slowly. "Only the Lord knows what kind of brain damage she'll have after that…if she ever wakes up."
They sat in silence for a while after that, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on both of them. The tragedy of Yui's attempt hung in the air like a dark cloud, another wound added to the chaos surrounding UA. Nemuri continued to pick at her salad, though her appetite had all but vanished.
Shouta leaned back in his chair, exhaling heavily before speaking. "Kendou is at the police station right now for an interview," he said, his voice flat with the weight of everything. Nemuri, seated across from him, looked troubled at the news.
"They're going to grill her, aren't they?" Nemuri murmured, biting into her lip. Her worry was palpable—Itsuka was just a student caught up in this nightmare, and now she was being thrust into the harsh spotlight of an official investigation.
Shouta nodded grimly. "Yeah, they probably will. But Toshinori's friend, Officer Tamakawa, is going to be there. He'll do his best to keep things calm, but…" He trailed off, knowing full well that Tamakawa's presence would only offer so much protection. "No promises," he finished.
Nemuri's eyes darkened as she leaned back in her seat, processing the severity of the situation. "A missing student and a suicide attempt," she said quietly. "It's making UA look bad…really bad. And speaking of bad..."
Shouta sighed, already knowing where the conversation was heading. The Hero Commission was breathing down their necks, the media was circling like vultures, and now their students were caught in the crossfire. The situation was spiraling faster than they could control it.
"How long?" he asked, his voice resigned.
Nemuri bit her lip again before answering. "We're suspended," she said, the words heavy in the air between them. "Until further notice. Nezu too."
Shouta's jaw clenched, but he didn't react immediately. Nemuri continued, "At least we're on paid administrative leave for now. But the Hero Commission… they're not through with us yet, not by a longshot. They've decided to take over the investigation themselves."
He cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The Commission was ruthless when it came to investigations, and now that they were fully in control, he feared things could get worse. Any lingering control he thought they might have had over the situation had just evaporated.
Nemuri hesitated for a moment before adding, "They also said that if we have any evidence—anything that might help them—they'd like us to hand it over."
Shouta cursed again, this time louder, unable to contain his frustration. "Of course, they want us to hand it over," he muttered, his tone bitter. He knew this wasn't just about finding Izuku anymore. It was about reputation, public perception, and accountability. And the Commission would not hesitate to make examples of them if they deemed it necessary.
Nemuri watched him carefully, sensing his anger. "Shouta," she said softly, "we still need to cooperate with them. I know it feels like we're losing control, but if we don't…they could make things even worse for us. For UA. For the students."
He nodded slowly, knowing she was right but hating every second of it. They were caught between a rock and a hard place. The Hero Commission had taken over, and now all they could do was try to survive the storm, knowing full well that every move they made could be scrutinized under a microscope.
The weight of everything settled heavily on Shouta's shoulders. Suspension, the Commission's takeover, the investigation that was now out of their hands—it felt like a defeat. And with Izuku still missing and Yui's fate uncertain, that defeat tasted all the more bitter.
Shouta slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Damn it," he whispered, feeling the tension tighten in his chest.
Shouta placed the half-eaten soup on the end table beside him, no longer able to stomach it. Suspension meant suspension—there was no getting around that. He and Nemuri were barred from campus without supervision, and the thought gnawed at him. "This is bullshit," he muttered under his breath. The growing frustration festered inside him, and all he could think about was lighting another cigarette to keep from spiraling.
Standing up, Shouta reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and excused himself with a quick nod to Nemuri. He stepped outside into the cool night air, making his way to the small pavilion. His fingers found the cigarette, lighting it with a practiced flick of the lighter, and the familiar burn of the smoke steadied him, even if only slightly.
Taking a long drag, he pulled out his phone and decided to place a call to Hizashi. The phone barely rang before Hizashi picked up, his voice already knowing. "I had a feeling you were gonna call me, Shouta."
Shouta exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the night sky. "Yeah, well, I needed to. I…" He hesitated for a second, collecting his thoughts. "I wanted to apologize for what happened to Yui. You were doing your job. I should've been there sooner."
Hizashi's voice softened on the other end. "You don't need to apologize, man. This whole thing…it's a mess. I hate that it's come to this."
Shouta nodded, though Hizashi couldn't see it. "Yeah…I'm taking it personally. I shouldn't, but I am."
The silence between them was heavy with unspoken words. After a beat, Shouta flicked the ashes of his cigarette to the ground and cut straight to the point. "I need another favor."
"Shouta," Hizashi said, his tone both cautious and resigned, "you know this is dangerous territory we're in."
Shouta continued anyway. "I need you to go back to my office and grab the surveillance footage of Izuku's last whereabouts. It's there. I'm sure of it."
Hizashi sighed audibly through the phone. "You know that's asking for trouble. That's evidence now, and the Commission's got their hands all over this. If I do that…"
"We're already past that," Shouta interrupted, his voice hard and edged with desperation. "I'm telling you, we're on the right track. If I can just take another look, I know we'll find something. Maybe we've missed something small, but something important. And right now, I need that more than I need to play it safe."
There was a long pause on Hizashi's end. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, full of concern. "Shouta, I get it. You want to find him. But…you're already on suspension. Your main focus needs to be keeping your head down and not getting into any more trouble. If the Commission finds out you're still working on this behind the scenes, they'll come down on you hard. You could lose your job."
Shouta clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of Hizashi's words. He knew his best friend was right—getting caught stepping out of bounds could lead to more than just reprimands. He could be finished, not just at UA, but as a hero. But he couldn't let it go. Not after everything. Not after Yui's attempt and Izuku still missing.
"I don't care about my job, Hizashi. Fuck of all that," Shouta finally said, his voice raw and strained. "I care about finding Izuku. I care about keeping these kids safe. If we don't solve this soon, I don't know how much more we'll lose."
Another long silence filled the airwaves, punctuated only by the soft hiss of the cigarette between Shouta's fingers. Hizashi sighed again, though this time it was a sound of reluctant agreement.
"Alright," Hizashi finally said. "I'll do it. But promise me, Shouta, you'll be careful. The Commission isn't going to be forgiving if they catch wind of this."
Shouta felt a mixture of relief and guilt. "I'll be careful. Thank you, Hizashi."
Just before Shouta hung up, he spoke one last request. "Hizashi, check your pockets."
Before Hizashi could ask what Shouta meant, the line went dead with a soft click. Confused, Hizashi pulled his phone away from his ear, staring at it for a second before sighing. He reached into his pockets out of curiosity, expecting nothing, but then he felt it—his fingers brushed against a small, crumpled piece of paper.
He pulled it out, frowning as he unfolded it. It was a torn piece of paper from a memo pad. Scrawled in Shouta's unmistakable handwriting were the words: "Check the library - S."
Hizashi read the note aloud to himself, furrowing his brow in confusion. "Check the library? What the hell are you talking about, Shouta?" He folded the paper back into his pocket, deciding that for now, he needed to stay focused.
First things first: He needed to swing by Shouta's office and retrieve the surveillance footage. That was the priority, even if the cryptic note tugged at the back of his mind. He knew better than to dismiss Shouta's instincts, so he mentally filed the note away for later.
As Hizashi made his way toward UA, he could only hope that he grabbed the right footage and that this favor wouldn't lead them further into trouble. Trusting Shouta had never been a question—but this time, he couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of unease as the pieces continued to fall into place.
Meanwhile….
Minoru sat on his bed, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His mind was a storm of guilt and panic, swirling so intensely that he felt physically ill. It had been hours since the chaos at UA, but the weight of it pressed on his chest like a stone. Every breath felt shallow, strained by the knowledge of what he had done. The events that had unraveled weren't accidents—they were his fault. The conviction of his actions clotted his veins, and the guilt settled in his bones like lead.
His eyes drifted to the suitcase lying on the chair across the room, half-open, waiting for him. It was the only thing he could focus on amidst the chaos in his mind. He knew what he had to do. He had to leave UA. He had to disappear before this got worse—before the weight of his involvement came crashing down on him completely. This was spiraling far beyond what he had ever intended. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He gritted his teeth, his mind replaying every misstep he had made, every wrong decision that had led them here. It had been his fault from the beginning. He had let Lady Nagant in, convinced by her manipulative charm and the promises she had whispered. He had been foolish, thinking that nothing would come of it, that he could handle it. But then Yui and Itsuka were hurt—because of him. Izuku had disappeared—because of him. And now Yui had tried to take her own life—because of him.
The guilt was suffocating. Suspension or expulsion seemed like a distant, almost trivial concern now. The reality was far worse—he could be arrested. He had facilitated a villain's actions, and had played a part in the pain inflicted on his classmates. His career as a hero was over before it had even begun. The dream he had once clung to, of standing tall as a Pro Hero, had crumbled into dust before his very eyes. All because of the choices he had made.
With a shaky breath, Minoru pushed himself off the bed and moved to his dresser, opening drawers with trembling hands. He pulled out clothes and began stuffing them into the suitcase, his movements hurried and frantic. He couldn't stay here any longer. He had to get out before they caught him. There was no way he could face UA, the teachers, or his classmates—not after everything. His heart raced as he packed, each moment feeling like a countdown to the inevitable discovery of his betrayal.
He knew he couldn't go home either. His family would be the first place they would look, and he didn't want to drag them into this mess. He had no choice but to disappear, to slip into the cracks of the city where no one would think to find him. He had some money saved—enough to survive for a while, hopping from one manga café to another, staying under the radar. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was all he had.
As he finished packing, Minoru paused, staring at the suitcase in front of him. His hands shook as he gripped the handle. He felt a hollow pit in his stomach, the weight of what he was about to do sinking in. He wasn't just running from the law—he was running from everything he had ever wanted to become. And deep down, he knew that even if he escaped, he would never outrun the guilt that now lived inside him.
Minoru jumped when his phone rang, the sound slicing through the silence of the night like a knife. His heart raced as he saw the number flash on the screen, a number he had come to dread seeing. His throat tightened, and he felt a wave of nausea hit him. The fear was so intense that he almost felt like he might pee his pants. But he couldn't ignore it—he knew who it was.
With trembling fingers, he answered the call, bringing the phone to his ear.
"Took you long enough," the voice on the other end said, her tone sharp and amused. It was Lady Nagant—Kaina Tsutsumi, the woman who had pulled him into this nightmare.
Minoru's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to say something, but his fear held him in a vice grip. The silence stretched for a moment before Kaina's voice cut through again, almost teasing in its coldness.
"You're getting quiet on me, boy," she continued, clearly enjoying the power she held over him. Minoru could almost hear the smile in her voice. "You act like you've killed somebody."
Her words hit him hard, and his knees nearly buckled. He felt sick. The image of Yui, unresponsive, filled his mind, and guilt twisted inside him like a knife. His voice wavered as he responded, "You didn't tell me Yui was going to use those pills on herself. I thought—" he hesitated, his voice cracking. "I thought they would just calm her down."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a soft, almost playful laugh. "Yui is still alive, isn't she?" Kaina responded, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "That's too bad, considering what could happen to you."
Minoru's heart pounded in his chest, and he struggled to breathe, the walls of his world closing in on him. He couldn't believe how easily she twisted everything, how she made him feel like a pawn in her sick game. But before he could muster up a reply, Kaina's voice interrupted him again.
"Settle down, boy," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "You should be lucky that the gods are covering you for now. Yui's still breathing, and that's keeping you out of a bigger mess."
Minoru swallowed hard, sweat gathering on his brow as Kaina's words continued to dig into him. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to cut off the call and run, but he was trapped. She had him cornered, and no matter what he did, she always seemed to know how to keep him under her thumb.
"Tell me," Kaina said smoothly, "do they look convinced that Uwabami is going to help them?"
Minoru's voice was small as he replied, "Yes. They…they believe she's handling it."
There was a beat of silence on the other end, and then Kaina spoke again, her tone amused but with an edge of danger. "Good. You should be thankful, Minoru. You've got an ally in arms, someone who's keeping you from falling into more trouble. You wouldn't want to know what it feels like to have the gods turn their backs on you."
Minoru shivered, her words sending a chill down his spine. He couldn't speak—couldn't bring himself to respond. He knew she was playing him, manipulating him at every turn, but he was too deep in it now to fight back.
Kaina's voice remained cool and calm on the other end of the line, even as she probed Minoru for more information. "So, tell me, what else have you got for me?" she asked, her tone almost playful, though Minoru could feel the dark undercurrent beneath her words.
Minoru hesitated for a moment, trying to keep his voice steady. "Denki… he knows your villain name, Lady Nagant," he began, swallowing hard as he spoke. "And he knows you used to work for the Hero Public Safety Commission. He's planning to go to the school library to look for more information in the archives. He thinks he might find something about your identity."
There was a pause on the other end, and Minoru could hear the subtle intake of breath, followed by a low, amused hum from Kaina. "Ah, Denki's trying to play detective," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "That's cute. He's investigating me, thinking he can find something, but he'll never get close. I'm not some small-time villain who leaves traces behind. Still…" She trailed off, her tone becoming more thoughtful. "It's titillating to know they're looking for me. Let them waste their time."
She let out a small laugh, clearly enjoying the fact that her enemies were chasing ghosts. Admittedly, she thought to herself that the previous incident involving Izuku's escape attempt and the search party had been a close call. Izuku had nearly slipped through her fingers, and the subsequent search for him had forced her to lay low for a while. But even with those setbacks, Kaina felt confident she had been playing her cards well. There were things—small risks, close calls—that she wasn't about to share with Minoru. No, he was just a pawn, a frightened little boy she had wrapped around her finger.
After a beat, Kaina's voice took on a more sinister edge. "What about the redhead brat? How's she holding up?"
Minoru's stomach twisted at the mention of Itsuka. He shifted uncomfortably on his bed. "She's… she's at the police precinct," he said quietly. "They're interrogating her."
Kaina scoffed, her confidence unshaken. "She's not going to talk. That girl's got too much pride for that. She'll try to stay strong, but…" Kaina chuckled, a deep, haughty sound. "We both know how to break pride when we need to, don't we?"
Minoru shivered at her words, dread creeping down his spine. Kaina always had a way of turning even the smallest things into something dark and dangerous. He was beginning to realize that her confidence in controlling everything extended far beyond what he had initially thought.
Kaina's voice dropped lower, her tone becoming more deliberate. "Now, listen closely. It's time to up the ante. Let Denki 'investigate' me. Let him waste his time digging through old archives. Once he's gathered whatever little 'findings' he thinks he's uncovered, you call me. Understood?"
Minoru's throat tightened, and he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. "What… what are you planning to do?" he asked cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper.
There was a pause on the other end, a dangerous silence that stretched just long enough for Minoru's heart to pound faster. Then Kaina's voice returned, colder and more direct. "If you want a taste of freedom, you'll do as you're told. No more questions." And with that, the line went dead.
Minoru stared at the phone, his hands shaking as he tried to process the conversation. His mind was racing, fear and guilt clashing violently inside him. He couldn't see a way out of this, couldn't imagine how to stop the spiral of destruction he had set in motion. But before he could gather his thoughts, his phone rang again.
He fumbled with it for a moment before answering, his voice shaking. "Y-Yes?"
Kaina's voice returned, softer this time but with a razor-sharp edge. "Oh, and Minoru? Don't even think about skipping town. It'd be a shame if you had buyer's remorse after all the trouble you've caused. Stay where you are, follow orders, and things will stay as they are. Step out of line, and you'll see how quickly that changes."
And with that, the call ended again.
Minoru sat there in silence, staring at the dark screen of his phone. His heart was pounding in his chest, his mind swirling with the weight of everything that had happened—and everything that was about to happen. The suitcase sat open on the chair beside him, half-packed, but now he wasn't sure what to do. Running wasn't an option, not anymore. Not with Lady Nagant keeping such a close watch over him. He felt like a puppet on strings, every move controlled by a force much stronger and more terrifying than himself.
He dropped the phone onto the bed beside him, his hands trembling uncontrollably. He was trapped—caught in a game he didn't understand, forced to play a role he hadn't chosen. And now, all he could do was wait and hope that somehow, some way, he could find a way out before it all collapsed around him.
Meanwhile….
Kaina reclined in bed, her naked body draped over the soft, silken sheets, the glow from her phone casting a pale light across her sharp features as she finished her conversation with Minoru. Her voice was low, deliberate, every word carefully calculated as she tied up the last of her business. Minoru had his uses, and Kaina knew better than to trust fully in anyone, but for now, she needed him, just as she needed to maintain control over every moving part of her operation. She wasn't leaving anything to chance—not now, when the stakes were this high.
As she hung up the phone, Kaina exhaled, setting it down on the table beside her bed. Her fingers tapped lightly against the glass screen, her thoughts already shifting to the next item on her agenda. Tomura had promised her safety, and for the time being, she believed him. Still, her mind buzzed with contingencies, alternate plans, just in case. Trust was a fleeting thing in her world, and Kaina was nothing if not prepared.
She thought briefly about Uwabami, her so-called "ally" who was known to dance along the thin line between heroism and villainy. Uwabami, with her flawless public image and legions of adoring fans, would be decried as a harlot if her secret alliances ever came to light. Kaina smirked at the thought, knowing full well that the woman's pretty face masked a web of deception, lust and greed. Kaina would have to call her later—ensure that everything was still moving in her favor. But for now, there was another matter at hand.
Her gaze drifted toward Izuku, who lay beside her, panting and drenched in sweat. His chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths, and exhaustion was etched into every line of his face. The physical restraints on his wrists and ankles dug into his skin, red marks forming where the bindings had been for too long. He was visibly drained, his body pushed to its limits by Kaina's neverending sex. But Kaina's eyes softened as she looked at him, though the softness carried an unsettling undercurrent of possession.
Reaching over, Kaina grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and gently tipped it toward Izuku's lips. He drank greedily, his throat moving with each desperate gulp, as if the water was the only thing keeping him alive. She watched him intently, her fingers brushing against his jaw as she helped him swallow.
"You need your strength," she whispered, her voice almost tender, though the weight of her control lingered beneath the surface. "I won't give up on us, Izuku. You'll see that in time."
Izuku's eyes, dull and glazed from fatigue, flickered with something akin to defiance for a moment, but it was fleeting. His body was too broken, too overwhelmed to fight anymore. Kaina smiled faintly, wiping a bead of water from his lips with the pad of her thumb before leaning down to whisper in his ear.
"You'll love me," she whispered with a chilling certainty. "You don't know it yet, but you will. They all break in the end, and you'll be no different."
She rose from the bed, her lithe figure moving with a feline grace as she stepped away from Izuku. His body sagged back into the sheets, his breathing still heavy, though quieter now. Kaina ran her hands through her long hair, exhaling deeply as she crossed the room toward the patio doors.
The night air greeted her as she stepped outside, cool and salty from the nearby ocean. She paused on the patio, her bare feet pressing into the cold stone as she leaned against the railing, gazing out into the velvety blackness of the night. The sound of distant waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, the rhythmic pulse of the ocean offering a strange comfort in the silence. The moon hung low in the sky, casting its silvery light over the water, illuminating the stillness of the coastal city beyond.
She knew they were safe for now. The house, hidden within the folds of the coastal cliffs, was far from the eyes of those who might come looking for Izuku. It was secluded, untraceable, a perfect place to vanish for a while. But she wasn't foolish enough to believe they could remain here forever. There were still loose ends to be tied up—people who knew too much, people she still needed to manipulate or eliminate.
Her thoughts drifted to Uwabami again, to the woman's secret involvement with their cause. If her fans knew the truth, if they had even the slightest inkling of how Uwabami operated behind the scenes, they would burn her reputation to the ground. Yet here she was, playing both sides, pretending to be the perfect hero while feeding information and resources to the underworld. Kaina smirked, knowing that as long as Uwabami stayed useful, she would let her continue her charade. But one misstep, and Kaina wouldn't hesitate to expose her.
Kaina's fingers drummed lightly against the cool metal of the patio railing as she stared out into the night, lost in her thoughts. The gods, if they were watching, had seen her through worse situations. It was a strange comfort, as though some greater force was on her side, ensuring her plans would succeed. She had come too far, fought too hard to lose now.
The wind picked up slightly, tousling her hair as she let the silence of the night settle into her bones. A sense of calm washed over her, even as her mind continued to race with plans for the future. The loose ends would be tied up. The relocation would happen. And Izuku—Izuku would be hers, completely and utterly. His resistance would fade with time, and he would come to love her, just as she had always intended.
Kaina's phone pinged, pulling her out of her thoughts as she stood on the patio. She glanced down at the screen and saw a message from Dabi. "We're outside," it read. She frowned, confusion immediately bubbling up inside her. Why were they outside this late?
Still, she knew better than to show hesitation. She quickly slipped on a robe and glanced back at Izuku, who remained unconscious and restrained on the bed, before quietly excusing herself. Her bare feet padded down the stairs, her thoughts racing. She hated when Dabi and Toga showed up unannounced—it never meant anything good.
When she reached the door, she opened it to find the two of them standing there. Dabi leaned against the frame, lighting a cigarette, the flame momentarily illuminating his pale face. Toga, as always, bounced with an unsettling energy, a twisted grin on her lips. Kaina fought the urge to grimace, keeping her expression neutral despite the wave of irritation that hit her.
"Well, come in," she said coolly, stepping aside to let them into the house.
Toga didn't need an invitation. She breezed past Kaina and immediately made herself at home, flopping down onto one of the old chairs in the corner of the room. Dabi, meanwhile, took his time, lingering near the doorway as he took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around him.
Kaina closed the door and crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. She raised an eyebrow at them, waiting for an explanation.
"Tomura's got good news and bad news," Dabi started, his voice casual but with an edge of tension. "The good news is he's looking at the Southern Islands or somewhere in the Pacific for your relocation. Should be a nice place, pretty far from all this crap."
Kaina's eyes narrowed slightly. "And the bad news?"
Dabi exhaled a puff of smoke before continuing, his voice calm but direct. "The bad news is Tomura wants a taste of Izuku before letting you go."
The words hit Kaina like a punch to the gut. She felt the blood drain from her face as she struggled to process what he had just said. "A taste?" Her voice was sharp, disbelief lacing her tone. "What do you mean by that?"
Before Dabi could respond, Toga giggled from her seat, kicking her legs like a child. "Oh, come on, Kaina! Tomura just wants to have a little fun with Izuku's quirk…among other things. Take it for a test drive. Just like I want to~" She licked her lips, her voice dripping with excitement as though the prospect of Izuku's suffering was some sort of game to her.
Kaina felt her pulse quicken, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "I'm not going to let that happen," she said, her voice cold and firm. Izuku was hers—she wasn't about to let Tomura or anyone else lay a finger on him. The thought of Shigaraki taking Izuku's quirk, using him like a tool for his own amusement, made her stomach churn with rage.
Dabi, unfazed by her anger, stubbed out his cigarette against the doorframe, his eyes locked onto hers. "You're in no position to say no," he said quietly, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "You know what kind of trouble you'll be in if you resist Tomura. We're all just playing the game, Kaina. You know how it works."
Kaina clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She knew the game. She had played it for long enough to know that resistance against Tomura was dangerous, potentially suicidal. But this was different. This was Izuku. Her grip tightened around the fabric of her robe as her mind raced with possibilities, ways to maneuver around this demand.
She forced herself to take a breath, leveling her gaze at Dabi. "And if I refuse?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her.
Dabi raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "If you refuse, then you're as good as dead. Tomura doesn't take kindly to people going against his wishes. You know that."
Kaina felt a chill run down her spine. She had worked hard to stay on Shigaraki's good side, to remain valuable enough that he wouldn't cast her aside. But now, she was faced with a dilemma that threatened to rip everything apart.
Toga twirled a strand of her hair around her finger, still grinning. "Come on, Kaina, it'll be fun! Izuku's quirk is so strong—don't you want to see what Tomura can do with it?"
Kaina turned sharply toward Toga, her voice cold and cutting. "This isn't about fun, Toga. This is about him."
Toga pouted, clearly uninterested in the argument. "Fine, fine," she muttered. "But you're going to have to decide soon. Tomura's not the patient type."
Kaina felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her, her mind spinning with the implications of what lay ahead. She couldn't let Shigaraki touch Izuku. But she also knew the danger of refusing someone as powerful and unpredictable as Tomura Shigaraki.
Kaina clenched her fists as the tension in the room thickened. She could feel her control slipping, and it took everything in her to keep her voice steady as she faced Dabi and Toga.
"Does Tomura want money?" Kaina asked, her voice tight but measured. She desperately needed to buy time, to keep them from pressing any further. "If so, I'll need some time to get it together."
Toga's eyes glimmered with a dangerous playfulness, her gaze shifting from Kaina to the stairs leading up to where Izuku lay. "Tomura doesn't care about money," she said with a wicked grin, "but he does care about that special plaything you've got stashed upstairs."
Kaina followed Toga's gaze, her stomach twisting. The air felt suffocating as Toga's words sank in, her eyes never leaving the staircase as though she could already imagine the chaos they wanted to unleash on Izuku.
Dabi, his voice calm but filled with the quiet threat he always carried, stepped forward. "We came here nicely, hoping you'd be reasonable. We could've easily burst in and taken him without a second thought."
Toga giggled darkly, her eyes sparkling with sick excitement. "We all could've had fun with him," she chimed in, her voice lilting as if it were a joke. "Free of charge."
Kaina's temper flared, and she snapped, her voice full of venom. "Are you out of your rabid ass mind?"
Toga, undeterred, raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Why trip?" she asked, tilting her head. "He's just another pet to you, isn't he? Granted, a special pet, but just a pet all the same. And if All for One got wind of this—"
"Enough!" Kaina barked, cutting her off. Her voice cracked like a whip through the room, the severity of her anger visible in her tightened jaw and blazing eyes. She couldn't stand the idea of Izuku being reduced to a pawn, passed around and tortured by villains like some kind of prize.
Her attention snapped to Dabi, desperate for a moment of reprieve. "Do I have time to think about it?" she asked, though the plea for space hung in the air like a delicate thread, barely holding her world together.
Dabi met her gaze, unmoved by her struggle. He shook his head slowly. "Not too much," he warned, his voice devoid of sympathy. Toga, still playing the provocateur, added with a mischievous smirk, "Don't keep Tomura waiting, Kaina. He's not the patient type."
Toga's eyes flickered back to the stairs one last time, lingering as if she could still taste the anticipation of getting her hands on Izuku. Kaina's stomach churned at the way Toga seemed to savor the thought. But finally, Toga turned on her heel and pranced out of the room, leaving a cold, stifling silence in her wake.
Dabi, however, lingered. His gaze was piercing, and Kaina could feel the weight of his words before he even spoke them. "Look," he said, his voice low, almost as if offering her a grim piece of advice. "It'd be best to let Tomura have his way. That way, you at least get to keep the boy."
He paused for a moment, letting the weight of what he was about to say sink in. "You don't want another Mikumo on your hands, do you?"
The mention of Mikumo sent a cold shiver down Kaina's spine. Her mind raced back to the memory—someone she had grown attached to before, someone she had tried to keep under control, just like Izuku. She had refused to give Mikumo up, thinking she could protect him. And in the end…
Dabi turned and left her standing there, closing the door softly behind him as he returned to the car. The sound of the door clicking shut seemed to echo louder than it should have, reverberating through the silence that enveloped the house.
Kaina stood frozen in the middle of the room, her thoughts swirling like a storm. Her breath felt heavy in her chest, her mind spinning as she tried to grasp at some solution, some way out of this impossible situation. She hated that Dabi had brought up Mikumo, dredging up memories she had long buried—memories of her failure. She couldn't let that happen again. Not with Izuku. She had to protect him, but how could she keep him safe when Tomura himself had set his sights on him?
The weight of her predicament pressed down on her shoulders like an unrelenting burden. Her loyalty to Tomura and the League had kept her alive and in their good graces, but Izuku was different. He wasn't just another mission, another prize to trade and barter with. He was hers, and the thought of losing him—to Shigaraki, to All for One, or to anyone else—was too much to bear.
But Dabi's warning rang in her ears. She wasn't in a position to say no, and if she pushed back too hard, she knew the consequences could be dire. She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms, and exhaled shakily.
The silence of the house surrounded her like a suffocating blanket, broken only by the distant sound of Izuku's steady breathing upstairs. For now, he was safe, but Kaina knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to face the decision looming over her.
She had to think fast, and she had to think smart. The game was getting more dangerous by the second, and Kaina could feel the noose tightening around her. Alone with her thoughts, she felt the darkness of the night closing in, suffocating her with the weight of her impossible choices.
Kaina's breath hitched in her throat as the overwhelming realization of her situation crashed down on her. She felt the walls closing in, the air around her suffocating. She gripped her head tightly with both hands, her fingers tangling in her hair as she cried out in a mixture of rage and desperation.
"You bastards!" she screamed into the empty room, her voice echoing off the walls. She had thought the odds were in her favor, that she had everything under control, but now it felt like everything was slipping through her fingers. People were circling her, ready to tear away what was rightfully hers. Izuku—her Izuku—was being eyed like a trophy, like a pawn to be used and discarded by others.
"The voices in my head are taunting me," she whispered, her voice trembling as she tightened her grip on her head. It felt like there was a war raging inside her mind, one that she couldn't escape. Each thought crashed against the other, a relentless cacophony of doubts, fears, and rage. She needed to figure something out, and fast.
Her mind spiraled, trying to grasp at a solution. She knew deep down that if Tomura ever "borrowed" Izuku, he would never come back. She would lose him forever. And if it wasn't Tomura, then it would be those brats—the heroes who were still searching for him, desperate to bring him back. She couldn't afford to lose him to anyone. The very thought made her stomach turn with rage.
She bit down on her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth as she fought back the growing panic. She had to act quickly—there wasn't much time. If she didn't sever her ties and cut herself off from Tomura, from Dabi, from all of them, she'd lose everything. But leaving meant danger, cutting ties meant losing all the security she'd built for herself. She could see the narrow window of opportunity shrinking before her, a glimmer of hope that she could still convince Tomura otherwise. But the clock was ticking.
And then there was Minoru… She clenched her teeth at the thought of him. He was another loose end, one that could unravel everything if he became a problem. She couldn't trust him anymore, as if she trusted him in the first place. She couldn't trust anyone. And there were others too—Denki and Itsuka. They were liabilities now. Threats that needed to be neutralized.
"I think it's time to speed up the process," she muttered to herself, her voice cold and distant, as though someone else were speaking through her. She knew what she had to do. Denki and Itsuka… they had to be silenced. Minoru too. They couldn't be allowed to get in her way. Not when Izuku's fate was at stake.
Her mind was racing, already forming plans within plans. It had to be swift and decisive. If she moved quickly enough, she could eliminate the threats before anyone could act against her. Then, she would be free of all of them—free to take Izuku and disappear.
Kaina's hands dropped from her head as she straightened, her eyes sharp with renewed focus. The weight of her decisions settled on her shoulders like an iron cloak, but she didn't hesitate. This was the only way to protect Izuku, to keep him where he belonged—with her. No one would take him away from her. Not Tomura. Not the heroes. Not anyone.
The path ahead was dark and treacherous, but Kaina had no choice but to walk it. Her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination as she turned back toward the stairs, her thoughts whirling like a storm.
"Just a little longer, Mikumo," she whispered to herself. "I'll keep you safe, no matter what."
And with that, she began to make her moves, the plans already solidifying in her mind. There was no going back now. Not for her. Not for Izuku.
To be continued….