Chapter Text
Nezu wasn’t fond of humans. Too many times, he watched as their cruelty and incessant need to know everything caused harm to the innocent and the unsuspecting alike. All animals, from the most disgusting rodent to the most terrifying spider, never cause harm for the sake of it. If they harmed another animal, it was always in self-defense or for food.
That one quote, made more than a century ago by a famous American author, is one that Nezu couldn’t forget: “Of all the animals, man is the only one that is cruel. He is the only one that inflicts pain for the pleasure of doing it.”
Being at the mercy of those cruel animals, Nezu understood that quote to his very core. So no, he wasn’t that fond of humans.
But the same wasn’t true for those of UA.
These bright young children who are trying to find their way in the world they live in, and the teachers who chose to be the ones who guide them.
Nezu wasn’t ashamed to admit, at least within the privacy of his own mind, that he has favorites. Most notably, Class 1-A, Aizawa, and the other year one teachers. Class 1-B were spectacular as well, but Nezu hadn’t the chance to interact with them the way he has with 1-A.
1-A, who had to deal with things that should’ve only been saved for when they graduated, or when they make it to their third year, at least.
1-A, who had some of the strongest quirks he’d seen come out a first year class, and were very adept in handling them in unique ways.
1-A, who was the only class Aizawa has taken on that hadn’t had a single expulsion so far.
And Aizawa, one of the few heroes Nezu had the pleasure of knowing that didn’t care for the spotlight, doing what he needed to in order to protect the innocent.
Nezu wanted to protect them all. He wanted to give them a chance to be unleashed upon the world, because he just knew that they will be what their society needed to thrive, to guide in the right direction and inspire the next generation in a positive direction.
And that was why he made the call. To protect the people one held close to their heart, that person must be willing to do that which others were not willing to do.
As long as his decision didn’t hurt anyone, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
The phone rang a bit before it was picked up. There was a pause before the voice on the other end spoke up. “This is a surprise,” they said. “I didn’t think you’d reach out to me, Nezu.”
”Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Nezu replied evenly. His eyes watched the news covering the damage being wrought in Jaku City. “Though I suppose I hate that it has come to this.”
”The fact you still chose to call me shows that you care more about the people than personal feelings. I can respect that.”
”So, do we have a deal?” Nezu asked. “Would you care to lend us your aid, Fukuzawa-dono?”
”No need to worry, Principal Nezu.” There was an audible smile in the man’s voice as he spoke. “They’ve already left to help two hours ago.”
-
Pro Hero Midnight, Nemuri to her friends, struggled to remain conscious. She eyed the approaching villains as she gave Creati her final order. “It’s up to you. Be strong!”
The first villain was suddenly right before her, and she used her last remaining strength to roll out of the way, though she did lose her comm in the process.
Which was a good thing, in retrospect. Nemuri didn’t want Creati to hear her getting killed.
She didn’t know how much time had passed; everything was rather numb and kind of distant, but she did feel the blood dripping from the many wounds inflicted on her body. Nemuri could barely keep her eyes open, but she pushed herself to do it anyway.
Perhaps it was morbid, but Nemuri wanted to see who was going to end her life. She wanted to stare them in the eyes, condemn them for what they were about to do with her gaze alone.
‘I’m so sorry, Shouta, Hizashi,’ she thought sadly, watching as the villain before her lifted a strange sword above their head in preparation for bringing it down on her. ‘I’m sorry to leave you behind. I’m sorry you’ll have to mourn me like you mourned Oboro. Please, please keep going. Take care of those kids.’
Nemuri didn’t flinch when the sword came down, mostly because she didn’t have the energy to do it.
But right before the sword cleaved her in two, a blade was thrust in front of her, catching the sword easily and holding it firmly at bay.
The villain and their cohorts quickly jumped back, shouting curses and questions, but Nemuri could only look at the person who intervened. At first, she thought she was looking at Creati, that her student had rushed over to help her out, but she knew that was impossible.
This person had the same spiky hair, though, pulled back away from their face, even if some of their black strands fell on the right side of their face. A mask was covering their nose and mouth, and they were clutching a short sword in their hand.
Anything else about them was missed when Nemuri’s vision finally went dark, and everything faded away. But she could hear a woman’s voice, even in the darkness.
“Well damn. I don’t even need my cleaver this time.”
Nemuri was shocked when the darkness was chased away by bright little butterflies, as if they were made from light itself. Her eyes shot open with a gasp, her body bolting upright. She looked down at her hands, her arms, her legs, her torso, every inch of her body. Though her costume was still in tatters, there was no sign of any of the wounds that were inflicted on her body, not even a scar. It was as if she were never injured in the first place, like she just chose to show up to the fighting in a ripped version of her hero’s costume.
“Back with us, hero?”
A voice from right in front of her caused Nemuri to lift her head, still reeling in shock, to see a woman standing before her. There was no way she was a hero or a villain; she was dressed too casually for that. For gods’ sake, the woman was wearing a blouse that was somehow still tucked into a long, formal black skirt.
Though the giant cleaver she clutched in one hand was decidedly not a normal civilian weapon.
The sounds of grunts and cut-off yelps caught her attention, and Nemuri looked beyond the weird woman to see the other person from before, the one who stopped her would-be executioner’s blade, effortlessly knocking out the other villains with the hilt of their blade.
Nemuri looked back at the woman before her, more confused than before. “Who are you people?” she asked. “Why help me?”
The woman chuckled, swinging the cleaver around so that it rested on her shoulders. “The more elaborate answer would take too long to explain,” she said, her tone amused like she was telling a story. “But the simple answer? We’re from Yokohama, and your rat principal asked us to give you heroes backup.”
Nemuri gasped. “Yokohama?”
Shouta had plenty to say about Yokohama when he and his students got back from that trip all those months ago. Surprisingly, most of it wasn’t negative. He spoke about how human the supposed monsters of that city were, how weird it was to see a genuinely happy couple from two different sides of the law raise a happy little girl, how normal things were, even though Yokohama was under the Port Mafia's control.
(And how one of his students was a badass for daring to walk up to a mafioso, but that was Nemuri’s personal conclusion, one that caused her friend to groan and slam his head into the nearest hard object whenever she brought it up.)
Nemuri remembered Shouta detailing the people he met over there. There were many interesting people, and she distinctly remembered him mentioning a woman with a butterfly hairclip.
“You’re the doctor from the Armed Detective Agency,” Nemuri said, recalling the details with sudden clarity. “The one with the healing quirk - ability,” she hastily corrected herself.
“Oh?” A smirk appeared on her lips, and her eyes flashed with devilish glee. “Are you saying I gained a reputation among you heroes? But I haven’t done anything.”
“Yet,” a new voice interjected. “You haven’t done anything yet, Akiko. There are still plenty of hours left in the day.”
Nemuri turned to see, yet again, another person appear: a woman wearing a dressy black kimono with an outrageously large bow, and, for some reason, holding a parasol. The serene look on her face, along with the subtle smile she hid behind her sleeve, stood in stark contrast to the current situation.
The other person finally joined the two women standing over Nemuri, who still hadn’t gotten up from the ground in her shock and confusion, as she asked. “So, the Armed Detective Agency is here to help against the Paranormal Liberation Front?”
The woman (Akiko?) laughed. “Yes, but we’re not the only ones,” she said, her tone still amused. “Kouyou and Gin here,” she gestured to the red-haired woman and the mask-wearing individual respectively, “are members of the Port Mafia.”
Nemuri felt her eyes widen as she glanced at the two people, with Gin remaining emotionless while the woman (Kouyou?) looked as amused as Akiko sounded. “You…you two are —”
A sudden yell startled Nemuri out of her shock. “Die hero!” A man leaped seemingly from nowhere, hand pulled back in preparation to attack. Nemuri nearly activated her quirk, but it ended up unnecessary.
Faster than the blink of an eye, the redheaded woman twisted around to face the man, and suddenly he was down with a scream and in an arc of blood. Nemuri staggered to her feet, and she looked on in horror as the woman flicked blood off the blade that appeared in her hand. “How barbaric,” she sighed, resheathing it, which led Nemuri to realize that the blade was disguised in her parasol. “Are all these so-called ‘villains’ as stupid, reckless, and lacking basic decorum like this one?”
‘I’m trembling,’ Nemuri realized, staring down at the unmoving man on the ground. ‘My hands are shaking. My legs are barely keeping me on my feet.’
“You killed him,” she said, interrupting the conversation that had been going on between Akiko(?) and Kouyou(?). “You…you killed him.”
“Oh, relax, hero.” The woman had the audacity to roll her eyes, as if it were nothing special. “He isn’t dead, just unconscious. And even if I had killed him, so what? This is practically a war, darling. If you want to protect the innocent, you have to be willing to dirty your hands so they don’t have to.”
“As stimulating as this conversation is,” Akiko cut in before Nemuri could snap something back, “we have bigger things to focus on. You,” she turned her gaze onto the R-Rated Hero, “you still have students out there, right? What matters more to you: going to their aid, even if it means accepting our bloodstained hands for help, or trying to argue morality?”
Nemuri glared at the hidden insult in her words, but her answer was instant. “My students are my priority. I will go to them, whether you help me or not.”
Surprisingly, her words caused a small smile to form on the mafioso’s face. “Good answer,” she said, before a phantom-like…thing appeared behind her, a sword gripped in one hand. Nemuri remembered Shouta’s description of the thing one of the girls had used at the School Festival, and realized that this thing was practically the same.
Does that mean this woman and the girl were related?
“Well then,” Kouyou held out her hand, “let’s get going, hero.”
-
Momo could only watch in horror as the giant behemoth before her and her classmates began to change. His jaw became a visor, spines erupted from his back, and large, thick claws grew from his fingers. “No way…”
Nearby, Tetsutetsu unconsciously pulled Mina closer to him as he gaped up at the sight. “That is crazy…”
“This is insane,” Jirou gasped, grabbing Momo’s arm. “Momo—”
With a mighty roar, the giant being lunged forward, his arm coming down toward them. All of the work-studies students screamed and flinched back from the inevitable blow, and Momo could hear Majestic yelling something in her ear, but all she could focus on was the arm of death descending toward her and her friends.
She closed her eyes and braced for the painful blow…
…but nothing happened.
Momo heard Jirou’s gasp in her ear and warily opened her eyes, only to see a most astonishing sight.
The gigantic being was stuck in an invisible hold, an unnatural red glow engulfing him as he visibly struggled to break free. “What…is…this…?” his voice echoed around everyone, his grunts audible proof of his struggles.
Momo was confused, and a quick look around her showed that everyone else was in the same boat. What was going on here?
“I gotta admit,” came a voice from behind everyone, “you kids got balls. I can respect that.”
Everyone whirled around to see a man standing there, posture completely unbothered, with his hands shoved in his pockets, despite the current situation. He wasn’t a hero Momo recognized, and it was obvious he wasn’t a villain since his body was outlined in the same red glow that was still keeping the giant at bay. His ginger hair, blue eyes, and black hat triggered something in her mind, but it wasn’t until Kirishima was dropped down next to her that it clicked in her mind.
“Nakahara-san?” he spluttered, his eyes wide in disbelief. As soon as the name left the redhead’s mouth, the eyes of every member of Class 1-A present went wide in shock as well, including Momo’s, while the Class 1-B students looked on in confusion.
They recognized the name, of course. When Kirishima, Uraraka, Tsu, Shouto, Midoriya, and their teachers returned from their trip to Yokohama and told their stories, a few names stood out to them. Akutagawa and Nakajima, little Eri’s adoptive parents; their sisters, Gin and Kyouka; and their brothers, Dazai and Nakahara.
Nakahara was especially memorable outside of Akutagawa and Nakajima, simply because of Uraraka’s encounter with him. He was supposedly able to manipulate gravity to the point that Uraraka claimed he’d be unstoppable during a fight.
“Let…go…” the echoing voice of the behemoth still struggling before them slammed into their eardrums. “Release…me…now!”
He roared in anger, his struggle even more apparent as he tried to break free from Nakahara’s hold, but to no avail. In fact, the red glow around him flared, and he was suddenly slammed to the ground, his face, arms, and legs pinned down, unable to move.
All the while, Nakahara remained composed, hands still in his pockets as he observed what was going on in front of them.
“Sounds badass!” Kaminari exclaimed. “How do you think he would look in a fight?”
“Like a god,” Uraraka said, her confident answer stunning her classmates. “His control over gravity is way superior to my own. I’m pretty sure sighting him would be a losing battle.”
All these months later, Momo could finally see what Uraraka was talking about. It took all of them just to hold the giant in place, and it required advanced planning, backup plans, and the expectation that Pro Heroes would eventually come along to back them up.
But all Nakahara had to do was show up, and the battle was half won already. Just holding him in place seemed so effortless for him. What would he look like if he went all out?
“Momo! What’s going on?”
The young Hero Course student flinched at the voice in her ear. She let out a small curse and scolded herself for allowing her shock to override the mission at hand. Whatever reason Nakahara was here for, she’d have to ask later. “Majestic!” she said into her comm. “We have an ally on the field with us holding that person in place. His struggle to free himself should make the dose we gave him work faster. It shouldn’t be too long before he succumbs to it!”
“I see,” he replied, though he still sounded confused. “Then the other heroes and I will focus on the League members still on his back. Stay back and work on keeping the giant in place long enough for it to kick in, understand?”
“Yes, sir!” Momo turned to look at their sudden ally. “How much longer can you keep him in place?”
A smirk crossed his face. “Longer than this fight will last,” he said smugly. The red light around him flared, and the ground underneath the giant cracked as he was forced down even more. “No need to make a fuss. Backup will be here soon anyway.”
Dabi scowled as he observed the new person among the hero brats. He looked unremarkable at first glance, dressed in a plain jacket and a dumb black hat. But someone who can pin Gigantomachia to the ground with as much ease as he was doing was not the work of an unremarkable person.
A real wolf in sheep's clothing.
“What’s going on? Who’s attacking Gigantomachia?” Spinner demanded, clutching one of the spines near him, glaring at the red glow under his feet.
Mr. Compress peered over Machia’s edge and clocked what Dabi already saw. “It’s just a single person!” he exclaimed. “My, he must be powerful. But he doesn’t look familiar.”
“Wait, you’re saying a single person is holding Gigantomachia back?” Spinner asked. “How is that possible? No one should be that powerful! At least, not anyone we don’t know about. The Heroes would have flaunted his power to the media years ago!”
“He doesn’t look like an adult, however,” Mr. Compress said, still looking over. “Maybe he’s still a student.”
“I say we still woulda heard about him,” Spinner snapped. “No way someone powerful enough to halt the big guy woulda been hidden.”
“But he’s only got Gigantomachia in his grasp; he hasn’t managed to trap us in this red light. Maybe he went through some kind of quirk evolution as Shigaraki did, and he’s not powerful enough to hold us all.”
“I’m gonna stop you right there, Mr. C,” Dabi finally spoke up. “He’s absolutely powerful enough to trap us along with Machia. Look at him, he isn’t struggling. He looks bored.”
“Then why hasn’t he?” Toga finally spoke up.
Dabi grinned wide enough that the staples in his face dug into his skin even more. “Because we’re not a threat,” he said darkly. “And while he handles the big fish, he’ll leave us little minnows to the heroes.”
Everyone looked to where he pointed and saw the rapidly approaching figures heading right for them. As the others prepared to fight them off, Dabi turned to Skeptic. “How long will it take for you to upload the video?”
“Too long,” he snapped. “You gave me something to add in to it, which just makes things-”
“Forget about it,” Dabi waved his words away. “The original video, how long would it take for you to upload it?”
Skeptic scowled at him but answered, “Ten minutes. Fifteen if you want it to be good.”
“Then you got thirteen.” Dabi turned and prepared to engage the heroes. “We’ll keep them busy for you.”
“What are you doing here, Nakahara-san?” Kirishima asked as heroes converged on the giant. Some of their classmates went to assist them, but many stayed behind, eyeing Nakahara in curiosity. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad you were here to give us a manly assist, but I thought you guys preferred to stay in Yokohama?”
“Yokohama?!” came the startled shouts of the Class 1-B students.
Predictably, Nakahara ignored the outburst. “Trust me, I hate being involved with heroes,” he said with an eyeroll. “But these are special circumstances. Not to mention your rat principal practically begged us to bail you heroes out of trouble.”
“Principal Nezu contacted you?” Momo asked, shocked. Did he willingly contact the Port Mafia for assistance? Were things really that bad?
“And what do you mean you hate being involved with heroes?” Tetsutetsu demanded angrily, before realizing just who he was talking about, and backed off almost instantly. Even without the confirmation that Nakahara was in the mafia, Momo remembered how her classmates reacted to Yokohama when the trip had been announced for the work-study students involved with Eri’s case. Despite being informed about the Armed Detective Agency, everyone still assumed that the people they would meet would be mafiosos.
Anyone coming out of Yokohama would automatically be assumed to be part of the mafia, especially if they’re an ability user.
Nakahara merely gave Tetsutetsu an annoyed look before looking back at all the activity going on in the distance. “Looks like this fight is nearly over. You brats can all calm the hell down now.”
A few of her classmates bristled at his comment but were cut off from saying anything when the behemoth of a man let out a final roar as he continued to struggle. But Momo noticed his movements were slower than before. “The sedative!” she exclaimed. “It’s slowing him down!”
Everyone watched as he continued to struggle against the gravity holding him down while a battle raged on his back. Soon enough, his struggles dwindled down to nothing, and he stopped moving entirely.
“Yes!” Kirishima cheered, along with everyone else. Momo laughed as Jirou glomped her in a hug, relief nearly causing her legs to give out. True, they still had the League members on his back to deal with, but compared to what they had been struggling with, this should be way easier.
She finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
Dabi grinned as he allowed his blue flames to engulf another hero. Skeptic just told him that the video upload was successful, so it didn’t matter that they were becoming overwhelmed. It didn’t matter that there was no chance for them to win. It didn’t matter that they wouldn’t be able to join Shigaraki, wherever the hell he was.
It didn’t matter that the R-Rated Hero suddenly appeared out of nowhere, floating in front of the rest of them in the grasp of some sort of female phantom, her quirk activating and flowing around him.
None of it mattered.
Because it was finished.
‘Too bad we never got to have our dance of damnation, Old Man,’ Dabi thought gleefully, even as he succumbed to unconsciousness. ‘Ah, but you’ll still be dragged to hell anyway. My only wish is that I could be there to see you finally fall apart.’
-
(Meanwhile, at the same time in Jaku City)
“SHIGARAKI! You are the one person I can’t forgive!”
Aizawa watched as Midoriya attacked Shigaraki, who was still in Ryukyu’s hold. He still hated the fact that he and Bakugo were here facing down this villain, but he couldn’t deny that they were helping.
If not for Midoriya intervening earlier, Aizawa might’ve already been taken out of the fight, and Shigaraki would’ve been free to continue his rampage. If not for Bakugo, Endeavor wouldn’t have been able to catch him off guard, as brief as that was.
And honestly? If Shigaraki hadn’t undergone the surgery that modified his body to make him stronger and more durable even without his quirk, Aizawa believed that those two would’ve been exactly what they needed to turn the battle in their favor.
But nothing any of them did seemed to affect Shigaraki. Not Ryukyu’s strength, not Midoriya’s Black Whip. Only Aizawa’s Erasure was keeping them from getting completely annihilated.
“A quirk deleter!”
And even that might not be enough. But it needs to be. Erasure was needed in this fight, to keep this monster from moving on to innocent people who can’t fight back. He refused to allow this to be as far as he got.
Midoriya was already in the process of trying to prevent Shigaraki from firing it, and Aizawa could see Endeavor and Bakugo approaching from the corner of his eye, but he could sense that none of it would stop it. Shigaraki was being held back by Ryukyu and Midoriya, but he didn’t look like he was struggling in their hold. In fact, he looked calm. Despite all the chaos surrounding him, he wasn’t faltering.
Which meant Aizawa couldn’t either.
As soon as he registered what Ryukyu was saying, Aizawa pulled his blade from the sheath on his hip, his actions steady and sure.
And when Shigaraki fired the quirk deleter at him, Aizawa was already moving.
‘Thanks for the warning, Ryukyu,’ he thought as he felt the bullet pierce his leg. He changed his grip on his knife in preparation for what he was about to do next. ‘Now I won’t hesitate. I’ll be rational. And do what I must!’
Aizawa thought of his students. The two here on the battlefield with him. The ones during their work studies and involved in other areas of this conflict. He refused to leave them behind. He will see them graduate. He will see them finally become heroes, ones this society needed.
With those thoughts running through his mind, Aizawa brought his knife down and sliced his leg off. He ignored the pain, ignored the horrified gasps of Rock Lock and Manual, ignored Midoriya shouting his name, and focused all of his attention on keeping Erasure aimed at Shigaraki.
But all of a sudden, there was a huge shockwave. Everyone was blasted back by the villain, Midoriya, Ryukyu, Endeavor, Bakugo; they all fell away from him.
And that was all the chance Shigaraki needed before he lunged for Eraserhead.
Time seemed to slow as Aizawa locked eyes with the villain headed straight for him. The white-haired man looked positively gleeful as he came closer to the Erasure Hero, a hand outstretched.
‘What a ghastly expression,’ Aizawa couldn’t help but think as Shigaraki got closer and closer. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever faced a villain with such a manic look on their face.’
Shigaraki’s hand was inches from his face when suddenly a loud growl echoed around the battlefield, and something slammed into the villain, knocking him away, not just from Aizawa, but from everyone else.
Aizawa quickly glanced to the side to follow Shigaraki’s movements, but there was a loud BOOM! and a giant dust cloud erupted, obscuring both Shigaraki and whatever had knocked into him.
He took this opportunity to finally blink.
“What just happened?” Midoriya was suddenly by his side, his body lighting up with green lightning. His voice was tinged with a bit of hysteria. “Are you okay, Sensei?!”
Aizawa was about to reassure him (and remind him to stay focused on Shigaraki) when a voice came from behind him, one that Aizawa recognized, even though months had passed since he heard it.
“And once again, you show exactly why you are one of the few heroes that have our respect.”
When he heard the new voice, Midoriya whirled around, as the others did the same. But when he saw who was there, his spine stiffened.
“Cutting off your own leg without a moment of hesitation, all so that you can remain here to see this maniac brought down,” Akutagawa Ryuunosuke said as he walked up. “You have conviction Eraserhead, I’ll give you that much.”
Midoriya’s jaw dropped as the mafioso came to a stop next to them. What was he doing here? What business does the Port Mafia have with all of this? Was…was he here to help? But…but why? What does he have to gain from helping them?
There was no doubt he was here for a fight, though. The last time Midoriya had seen the man, he was dressed rather casually, which wasn’t unusual since they were at the man’s home. Not now though. Now, thrown over a white dress shirt and form-fitting black pants was a long black coat with a high collar. Midoriya would’ve thought it a normal coat if not for the minute rippling along the fabric and the subtle sparks of red lightning, similar to the way Midoriya’s quirk would look when he activated it.
There was also the air around him too. This last time Midoriya was in his presence, he seemed uninterested in anything other than his family and the other Yokohamans. But now, the hair on the back of his neck was prickling as he stared at the mafioso. The silver-eyed man’s presence reminded him of Stain’s aura, but more refined, not as explosive, but still deadly. Honed, so that it was more pointed.
The familiar sound of ice forming across the ground rang out from behind him, and Midoriya knew just who showed up without having to turn around.
“Ryuunosuke?” Todoroki stepped up beside Midoriya, eyes wide in shock.
The hard lines around the man’s face seemed to soften as he glanced at Shouto. “Nice to see you again, Shouto,” he said. Even his tone was different than how it was when he spoke to Eraserhead.
Also, Shouto?! Since when was his friend on close terms with this man?
The boy with the half-cold, half-hot quirk quickly glanced towards the slowly dissipating dust cloud. “If you’re here, does that mean…?”
There was another loud Boom! before a body leaped from it and skidded back towards them.
Midoriya gasped as he finally saw who it was, even if their look changed a bit.
“Atsushi!” Todoroki cried out.
Nakajima Atsushi glanced at him with a slight smile, though it looked more like a snarl due to the tiger features upon his face. “Shouto,” he greeted, his soft and gentle tone at odds with the air about him. “Nice to see you in person again, despite the circumstances.” The pupils of his eyes were fully purple and slitted, glowing faintly yellow. There were three thick, black lines on each side of his face, and fangs peeked out from his lips. His arms and legs had been transformed into tiger ones with white fur and black, jagged lines, and there was even a tail swishing furiously behind him.
Midoriya remembered how he had speculated about Nakajima’s quirk all those months ago, in what felt more like a lifetime ago. He had thought that he had some sort of animal quirk just based on how the scars on Endeavor’s face looked, but to see it confirmed, to see what it was in person, was a bit awe-inspiring.
Was his quirk like Ryukyu’s? Can he fully transform into a white tiger, or is it only his arms and legs? Midoriya saw how he was able to knock Shigaraki away from his teacher, does he have that strength even when he’s not transformed? What about other abilities? And what-?
“Now is not the time, Deku,” came Kacchan’s growled voice as he appeared next to him. “Shut the hell up with muttering, eyes on Shigaraki!”
Midoriya blushed, realizing that he was muttering. His face burned even more when he saw Nakajima looking towards him with a raised brow.
Heavy footsteps announced Endeavor’s arrival. “You,” he said lowly, narrowed eyes locked onto the tiger-man.
Somehow, Nakajima’s glowing eyes seemed to blaze a bit hotter, even as the smile remained on his face. “Endeavor,” he greeted, his voice like ice. “Nice seeing you as well.” His head tilted as he stared at him. “That’s a pretty bad scar on your face. Looks pretty painful.”
Midoriya and Kacchan joined Endeavor in looking towards Todoroki when they registered what was just said, just to see a small smile flit across his face for a brief second.
Even Akutagawa snorted at his husband’s comment.
How did they know about that? Wait, was Todoroki…
“How interesting.”
Immediately, everyone’s focus was back on Shigaraki. He was walking through the dust cloud towards them, stopping a good distance away.
Midoriya noticed that the villain seemed more guarded than before, and that he kept his eyes focused on the two newcomers. “I recognize you two,” Shigaraki said, a cruel smirk crossing his face. “The Weretiger and the Black Hound, yes? Why would two ability users oppose me? You should know as well as I how broken this society is. No matter what you do, they will never accept you. I bet they’ll still reject you even after you’ve played the hero to their damsels in distress.”
“You’re not wrong,” Nakajima admitted. Midoriya looked at him in shock, and he saw Kacchan and the other heroes tense. All except Todoroki, who remained calm as he watched the Weretiger(?) speak. “Hero Society is not as great as it's made out to be, and definitely has things that need to change. However,” Nakajima’s eyes narrowed, and he crouched slightly, the air around him humming with a kind of energy that made the hair on Midoriya’s arms stand up, “causing a tragedy on this big a scale is not something I can forgive.”
“Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs,” Shigaraki drawled. “A pity. I had hoped you two would face reality alongside me. But I’m used to disappointment.”
Quicker than a flash, Shigaraki grabbed a large chunk of concrete near his feet with both hands and hurled it at the heroes.
“Shit-!”
But Akutagawa had already reacted. “Rashomon.” With the familiar sound of crackling lightning, his ability had activated, rushing forward and slicing through the large piece of concrete as easily as a knife through butter, leaving the rest of them gaping.
And before the separated pieces could fall to the ground, Akutagawa grabbed them with his ability (Rashomon?) and threw them back toward Shigaraki.
They connected with a loud crash, but Akutagawa didn’t rest on his laurels. “Atsushi!”
“Right!”
It was quick. One moment, Nakajima was standing beside them, and in the next, a large white tiger was in his place, a blue glue surrounding its body. With a roar that somehow sounded like a challenge, the tiger launched itself towards the recovering Shigaraki, and their bodies colliding generated a shockwave.
“Listen, I’m only going to say this once,” Akutagawa’s voice caught Mdoriya’s attention. He looked back to see everyone staring at the mafioso as well, even Kacchan and Endeavor. The Yokohamans had everyone’s attention from the moment they arrived, fending off Shigaraki with their incredible abilities and their calm demeanors. “We’re here because your rat principal sent us to help you. I shall remain back here with Eraserhead to support the rest of you, while Endeavor shall lead the attacking team. We just need to hold Shigaraki here for twenty minutes and then, on my signal, back away from him. Understood?”
“Shigaraki called you two ability users,” Rock Lock said immediately, obviously suspicious as he tried to stem the blood coming from Eraserhead’s leg. “That means you came from Yokohama. How do we know we can trust you?”
“I bet they’ll still reject you even after you’ve played the hero to their damsels in distress.” Midoriya couldn’t help but recall Shigaraki’s words from earlier. He hated that he was right, even if it was only a little bit.
“Because they’re here,” came Todoroki’s voice. He was glaring at the stunned hero as he moved towards Akutagawa. “They didn’t have to come and stick their necks out for us. They were safe in Yokohama. Show some basic gratitude, we don’t have time for paranoia.”
Midoriya spluttered at Todoroki’s words while Endeavor stared at his son as if he’d never seen him before. Strangely enough, Kacchan looked a little amused at how chastised Rock Lock looked at the moment. “You heard the half and half bastard,” Kacchan said as he ran toward where Nakajima and Shigaraki were locked in battle. “Let’s go! Move your ass, Deku! You too, Old Man!”
“Tch!” Endeavor leveled one last look toward Akutagawa before he followed after Kacchan. “Let’s go, Shouto!”
Todoroki hesitated a moment, casting a look back towards the mafioso, who smiled at him before placing a hand on his head, what the hell-!
“Go,” he said.
With a nod, Todoroki raced towards the fight, snagging Midoriya’s wrist as he did to get him to move.
The last thing Midoriya saw before he put all his focus into the fight was Akutagawa using his ability to tie off Eraserhead’s wound.
He didn’t completely trust the Yokohamans, but Aizawa trusted that they were here to help them.
And they were. The fight against Shigaraki didn’t feel one-sided anymore.
Nakajima’s ability was amazing; it gave him speed and strength that was probably on par with All Might before he lost his powers. It even had regenerative properties as well. Aizawa witnessed it when the tiger intercepted an attack meant for Shouto, and the tiger had its leg ripped off as a result. But it came back almost instantly, like it was never gone.
Akutagawa’s distance didn’t keep him from participating in the fighting. His ability, Aizawa heard him call it ‘Rashomon’, was used to fling Shigaraki around, into debris, into the ground, and even right into incoming attacks. Akutagawa had even flung some of their comrades right at Shigaraki to maximize their offensives, and rescued them from Shigaraki’s retaliation. And like Nakajima, Akutagawa’s ability did something he hadn’t expected.
Shigaraki had broken through Endeavor’s guard, had dodged the attacks from Midoriya, Bakugo, and Todoroki, and had made a beeline straight for Aizawa. Rock Lock had moved to intercept him, but Akutagawa had been faster. Rashomon(?) had suddenly wrapped around him, forming some kind of armor, before he met Shigaraki with a punch to his face, one that actually sent the villain back a bit before Nakajima’s tiger was there to throw him back further.
Still, even with their help, Shigaraki was a powerful foe. He could see Endeavor tiring from giving all he’s got, and his students weren’t any better. But Aizawa recalled what Akutagawa had said earlier.
“We just need to hold Shigaraki here for twenty minutes and then, on my signal, back away from him.”
He didn’t know how much time had passed; the throbbing pain from what was left of his leg and the strain on his quirk was making him exhausted, but still, he held on. He held on as he watched everyone else fight against Shigaraki, as he saw the villain’s body begin to break down but still fight on, as Nakajima’s tiger protected everyone, as the mafioso beside him kept the villain away from him with ease.
But still, how much longer?
“Now!”
Akutagawa’s loud yell, the loudest Aizawa had ever heard him speak, practically rattled his eardrum as it rang out across the battlefield. “Get away, now!” he yelled again.
His students did as he said, darting away from Shigaraki, Endeavor doing the same as Nakajima’s tiger moved fast enough that it blurred, appearing near instantaneously next to Akutagawa. The tiger transformed back into Nakajima’s human form as the others gathered around the four that had been staying back.
“So?” Endeavor demanded, eyes on the still standing villain across from them. “What now? What is your plan?”
“Wait for it.”
Laughter echoed from Shigaraki as he slowly lumbered towards them. “Try all you like,” he said, his voice a bit breathless but his tone filled with glee. “Nothing you do will work; One For All will be mine. Now die!”
He lunged at them.
Aizawa tensed. “Akutagawa-!”
Black tendrils erupted from the ground, grabbing at Shigaraki’s arms, legs, and even his head, and hoisted him high in the air.
“That’s your big idea?” Bakugo demanded. “Putting him in the fucking sky where we can’t reach him? What good will that do?”
Aizawa looked over at Akutagawa for a quick second, and was surprised to see him smirking as he gazed up at the villain.
So was Nakajima.
A dark chuckle. “Excellent work, Ryuu.”
An eye peered through the scope on his gun, able to see Tomura Shigaraki clearly despite being a good distance away, hidden from the nomu and the other heroes fighting them.
“Got him right where I want him.”
A finger pulled the trigger.
“Checkmate, All For One.”
Shigaraki’s body suddenly jerked in his position in the sky. And then he began to spasm, as if he were having a seizure.
“What is happening?” Aizawa demanded. He still had his quirk activated and aimed at the villain suspended in the air. “What did you do?”
“Do?” Akutagawa repeated, sounding amused. He was completely relaxed as he stared up at the man they’d all been fighting. “If you want to get technical, I helped put an end to this. But personally? All I did was hoist him into the air.”
Nakajima chuckled, his remaining tiger features fading from view. He was the only one besides his husband who didn’t tense when Shigaraki was suddenly lowered to the ground. “Don’t worry,” he said. His voice was warm and welcoming, in complete contrast to earlier, when he first arrived. “He won’t be a problem.”
What?
Aizawa didn’t understand what was going on. What happened to Shigaraki? He was right in front of them, no longer restrained, and yet he was moving as if he had been drugged. His hands were covering a spot on his neck as he mumbled to himself.
Finally, he snapped his eyes up and looked toward Akutagawa. “You,” he hissed, but even that sounded weak. “What did you do to me?! What did you inject into me?”
Inject?
The Erasure Hero looked closer at where Shigaraki’s hands were and saw what appeared to be a dart from a tranquilizer gun.
And Midoriya had noticed it too. “Wait, that’s a tranquilizer dart!” he exclaimed. He looked back at the Yokohamans, taking note of their smug and satisfied faces. “You injected him with some sort of sedative?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” Rock Lock repeated, incredulous. He waved a hand towards Shigaraki, still on the ground and struggling to move. “Then what the heck was in that dart sticking out of his neck?”
“No Longer Human.”
That was a new voice, and it came from behind them, causing all but Akutagawa and Nakajima to jump in shock. Leaning heavily on Manual for support, Aizawa turned and saw another familiar face walking up to their little group, a rifle resting casually against his shoulder.
“Dazai?” Todoroki said, eyes wide.
“Yo!” The brown-haired man held a hand up in a hello, eyes shut and mouth stretched into a wide smile, as if he were greeting an old friend in a cafe, not marching onto a battlefield with a gun in hand. “Been a while, Shouto! You’re doing well, I see.”
Aizawa was starting to think he needed to sit his student down and ask just what his connection was with the Yokohamans if the amount of familiarity he was seeing was any indication.
“What did you mean,” Endeavor interjected, casting a glance at his son as he did, “when you said ‘No Longer Human’?”
“Hm?” Dazai looked back at the hero, and Aizawa noticed a flash of something in the man’s eyes before it was gone. “Oh! That’s what was inside the tranquilizer.”
“Right…and what is that, exactly?”
“My ability, of course!”
That didn’t exactly clear anything up. What kind of ability is called ‘No Longer Human’? That sounded…not great.
“Oh.” Todoroki sounded as if he had a revelation. He looked back at Shigaraki with a new understanding on his face. “I see.”
“See what?” Bakugo snapped, glaring at Todoroki. “What do you know that we don’t, Half-and-Half?”
“You.” Shigaraki suddenly sat up, his actions injecting a tension into the air that wasn’t there before. It was obvious that the villain wasn’t exactly capable of more than that, but he was still emanating a madness that set their teeth on edge. “You did this to me. What was it?! What was in this thing?!”
The smile on Dazai’s face shifted, turning more sinister as he approached the fallen villain and kneeled before him. “No Longer Human,” the ADA man said softly. Unconsciously, everyone leaned forward to listen to the man’s words. “That is my ability. The power to nullify and quirk and ability as soon as I come into contact with them.”
Aizawa’s eyes widened. ‘That’s like my Erasure quirk. But it sounds like his ability requires physical contact.’
“My ability is always on,” Dazai continued explaining. “It cannot be turned off, because I am No Longer Human. It’s my skin, my hair, my heart, my blood. I am the ultimate Deus Ex Machina on the planet, a fact that you just experienced first hand.”
“Your blood,” Midoriya said faintly, an equally shocked Bakugo staring hard at Todoroki at his side. “You put your blood into that tranquilizer dart, didn’t you?”
The smirk on the brunette’s face was cutting. He stood up, staring down at the powerful villain that was now looking small. Horrified eyes were staring up into dark brown ones. “As long as my blood is in your system, your quirk will not come to you. And the body you were so proud of, whose enhancements came from quirk boosters and adjustments, will fail you too. It’s over, Shigaraki. You’ve lost.”
“No!” the villain shrieked. “No! I refuse to believe that!” He started yelling about how it was impossible, how the man had to be lying, screaming and screaming and screaming out his denial.
A quick pinch to the head from a tiger’s fist knocked him out.
For a moment, nobody moved. Aizawa finally let his quirk go, sagging against Manual as his exhaustion caught up to him.
It was…it was over.
Dazai took a hand out of his pocket and held a phone to his ear. “Chuuya,” he said after a moment. “Shigaraki is down. I’m assuming things are taken care of on your end? Great! Meet us at Central Hospital. Love you~!”
The ADA member cackled as he hung up his phone and turned to face everyone else. “Well!” he clapped his hands together, startling the three UA students. “Most of you are injured, so you should be heading to Central Hospital right now. Everyone else involved with the raids are headed there now if they’re not already dead.”
“What about the other Nomu?” Endeavor spoke up. Surprising Aizawa, the man didn’t sound hostile, merely curious. “You plan to handle them as well?”
“It already is,” Dazai replied, shocking them yet again. “Right, Atsushi?”
The Weretiger closed his eyes and tilted his head. “Yes,” he said after a moment, clearly listening to something further away. “It seems Kyouka and Kenji were successful in helping neutralize them.”
Relief flooded through Aizawa’s body. It really was over. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a moment to appreciate everything before opening them again and looking towards his students. “You heard him,” he said dryly. “Hospital. Now. Let’s go.”
Midoriya and Bakugo were quick to agree, despite grumbling on Bakugo’s part. It was Todoroki who hesitated, and Aizawa was surprised by how unsurprised he was when the teen glanced towards the Yokohamans.
Nakajima smiled at him. “We’ll meet you there, Shouto. It’s fine.”
“…alright.”
Despite the confusion, everything seemed to be cooling down. Shigaraki was in custody, his students were safe, and they didn’t lose any more people in the fight.
Too bad none of them were aware of the coming storm.
All it took was the sound of a phone turning on.
-
Three pairs of eyes stared at the video playing on the phone held in shaking hands, two pairs in horror while the other one was grim.
“Oh no,” one of them whispered. “Shouto…”