Chapter Text
Stain leant over his unconscious son’s shakily breathing body. It was a lame attempt at protecting him, but there weren’t many other options left right now. Because it wasn’t just Dabi here. Dabi needed the most help right now, needed the most protecting, but Magne was holding onto the little girl, Izuku was staring at the hero with wide eyes, And Stain wasn’t dumb enough to think they were safe just because this hero had done his job.
It was a good thing this hero had done, but that was it. All it was, was what was expected. What he was supposed to do. What they were all meant to do.
Far from the first time that day, Stain found himself a little horrified, very surprised, and overall not perfectly happy with what happened next.
“You should all get out of here, before the heroes come and try to arrest you for something. Who knows, maybe it’ll be murder, maybe it’ll be trespassing, it could even be for something as stupid as being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Stain, feeling something stuck between the sickening sense of relief that only a parent could understand and the flustered brainstorming of a Vigilante trying to figure out how to get the civilians out of here safe and sound without being arrested, found himself angered by the bird’s implications.
“You say that like you’re not one of them.”
The ‘hero’ smiled, a disgustingly coy smile, before placing his finger in front of his mouth in a universal ‘shut up’ sign. If it had been more sincere, more joyful, maybe it would have reminded him of Van instead of becoming a nauseating reminder of every time she came up with a hairbrain scheme but refused to explain the details.
Damn. He’d been doing relatively well with not thinking about all of that recently, too. If one didn’t count the attempted murder on Ingenium and Endeavour at least.
Despite the crowd of heroes running frantically around the burning building, he didn’t see either of them on the scene. He wondered if that meant he succeeded in killing them.
The thought churned his stomach.
That was new.
“That would be telling, Stendahl. Just trust that I’m on your side.”
Izuku jumped up from where he had been glaring at the ‘hero’. “Like hell! First you drag me through that portal, then maybe you saved Dabi, but where’s Kacchan? Why isn’t he here ?”
It sounded like the red winged man was about to say something, but his “I was trying to keep you safe-” was drowned out by Izuku’s ‘What the fuck are you-’ followed closely by the exploding of the building next to him.
In the middle of the rubble and the newly formed crater stood a man. Everything would have been so much easier if there hadn’t been anything special about him, but just from seeing him at a distance, Stain knew he was looking at someone powerful, confident, and charismatic. That was a dangerous combination. He was properly dressed, his fine suit looking tailored, fitting him perfectly. He had a mask covering his face, but it was apparent that he was glaring directly at Izuku.
“I don’t like that kind of language. It’s unbecoming; Absolutely filthy.”
The words in and of themselves weren’t scary, but the way they were delivered were terrifying. Honestly, Stain didn’t think any kind of tone or word choice could petrify him as much as he was right now, because what had been so scary about it all was the fact that in his hand was a familiar head of blonde hair.
They were a good 15 feet away from the man, hidden behind rubble and sunken into the shadows, but the man was looking Izuku directly in the eye, and even from here, Stain had heard Kacchan’s neck snap and his son whimper.
When the man let go of the boy, he crumpled into an unmoving heap on the ground.
Stain’s hand grasped on Izuku’s arm, knowing that if he let go, even for a moment, his son would rush the monster in front of them to try to get vengeance, for his assumedly no-longer-alive, friend.
He was about to try pulling Izuku away, but the man’s attention quickly flitted away from them, like they were mere bugs not worthy of his time.
At any other time, in any other circumstances, Stain might have felt offended, but right now he was grateful for the chance to pull Izuku back and mumble “Grab your brother, we need to get out of here now.”
Izuku, through his justified tears, looked like he was about to argue back, but Stain refused to budge on the issue. They were leaving as soon as possible. They were getting the hell out of dodge and the heroes could deal with this. And then they could all mourn Kacchan together.
When they were safe and alive.
“Eri, dearest, why don’t you come back to me now. It’s not polite to run away from the hero that saved you, now is it.”
…
…
…
Or that had been the plan…
But this… thing?
A hero?
Ha.
*
Sai was playing taxi for his daughter, a pro hero, an ex-hero-student and an unidentified, though probable, villain.
“You’re great, mister mutant-dude! I’ll kill you if you crash and kill us all!”
Now, Sai didn’t like to judge others based on appearances or first meetings, but he didn’t need a degree in psychology to tell that there was something seriously wrong with that kid in the mask. His remarks were repeatedly contradicted -by himself- -…- -probably- mere seconds after they were made. He would ask questions, then demand that nobody cared about the answer, declared that blue was the best colour, then said that red colours were the best. It was strange, and disorientating, but nothing could be more concerning than what happened during the drive back to Tokyo, back to Vanish.
Because nothing happened.
In all his years working alongside his Vigilante Duo, he’d never been a part of a getaway that went by so flawlessly. Typically, he was followed by cops. Usually, he ran into a snag either here or there. Maybe they’d have to ditch the vehicle, maybe they’d have to do the last part of the journey on foot.
But he made it to Tokyo, in decent time, without the cops pulling him over. He didn’t even need to park in an alleyway for five minutes to avoid a hero on patrol or a detective on a coffee run. It was clear.
And that was terrifying.
Because he kept waiting for the second shoe to fall.
Like he always did nowadays.
If only he’d been ready.
Maybe, just maybe he’d have realised what was happening before he got everyone sat in front of a TV watching the live news.
Because turning on the news was horrifying.
Not just for Sai, but for everyone.
Even Twice had been oddly quiet behind his Spiderman-Noir Rip-Off mask.
It was a little strange.
Sai’s head felt floaty and his eyes were sore.
His chest felt like it had concaved, and his stomach was flipping over on itself like a restless child that was too excited to go to bed and dream a million wonderful things.
And God, did Sai want this to be a dream. Because for what God-awful reason would Stain let his family be stood, backs to the heroes, facing off with a villain. Villain that, by his feet laid what was hopefully an unconscious body. There was another stranger standing with them, someone older, with a scraggly beard and a pink crop top. Someone that looked far too much like one of the applicants Vanish had received for a new identity recnetly. They had some sort of monster with them big and bulky, dark in colour and harnessing what almost seemed like absolute control over fire.
And there was a child.
A young child, no older than Himiko when Sai had first met her. He didn’t know why, but just knowing that small child, looking so infinitesimally miniscule in comparison to the crater she was crouched in, red eyes wide with fear, but her face set into a determined grimace-
It reminded Sai so much of Himiko it hurt.
But what hurt him more, was knowing that he had turned around and driven away, rather than staying to help.
Because maybe, just maybe, if he’d stayed, things wouldn’t have been so disastrous. Maybe there wouldn’t be a body count in the corner of the screen, conveniently placed underneath the scrolling headlines and social media messages posted in relevance to the situation.
Deep down, however, Sai knew none of this would have been different had he really been there. Because that thing they were fighting was more a demon than a villain. And even with a monster on their side, they didn’t seem to be making any leg-way.
Sai pulled Himiko into his side, hugging her tightly, simply grateful that she was here, a safe distance from the battle. He looked at the small group with him: His daughter, a pro hero, an ex-hero-student, and an unidentified, though probable, villain.
He had, at least, managed to save them.
He’d have to live with that.
*
Himiko didn’t know the full plan.
She knew she didn’t. Kacchan hadn’t wanted to tell her everything, something about it being dangerous for anyone to know the full plan because if they were caught then it would all be for naught.
Still, she didn’t think this was part of it. And if it was, it wasn’t a good plan.
Because Eri, the little girl. The one with the white hair and the red eyes and the cute little horn on her forehead... She looked super duper scared. And that was really really sad.
But then something weird happened.
The big black monster thingy, the one with the beady little heterochromatic eyes, it roared. Fire exploded around it as it leapt forward super-fast, punching the man in the suit.
The man didn’t move an inch.
Even so, the flames from the surrounding buildings wove around the villain, enveloping him in a layer of fire that should have turned him to a crisp. Instead, he waved but a hand that created a large gust of wind, dissipating it in a second.
It was scary. And she found herself reaching out a hand to her Pops. She didn’t stop herself from doing it either. She was happy to be away, but in the background of the footage, caught by some stupid reporter, was the rest of her family. She used to get along with Izu a lot when they were younger, and she’d always looked up to Mr. Stainy, ever since he saved her, but she was closest with Dabi.
Dabi, who she’d spent so much time with over the last couple of months.
Dabi, who was lying unconscious after being burned within an inch of his life, if he was even still alive.
Who had Stain hovering over him, despite his hand firmly clutching the back of Izu’s loose fit hoodie.
Who Eri, after being put down by Magne -and why Magne? Why would you do that?- was walking over to.
Dabi, who in the span of a second, was enveloped with a glowing light that originated from the little girl.
Dabi was okay.
It was a quirk, or a miracle, but it didn’t really matter.
Because it was that moment that would stick in everyone’s minds.
*
The Nomu was hit back by the man, but it broke its fall by carving its path into the dirt and rubble of the crater. It landed itself firmly beside Eri, opposite to the side where Magne was standing defensively.
In front of them, staggered, stood three people: a father and two sons.
Eri had successfully healed Dabi who was now disorientated, but unharmed. Izuku was still livid, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice, but Stain stood, head held high, breath held, and eyes narrowed as he surveyed the situation.
Because of this, he noticed the hero trying to creep up on him from the side, handcuffs in his hands, and premature glory reflected in his eyes. He also noticed, when the hero with the wings clocked him over the head and mentioned that this was ‘neither the time nor place to try to arrest someone that’s currently on our side!’.
Stain made a mental note that the ‘hero’, as fake as he was, at least seemed to be a good guy if nothing else.
He tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that the heroes seemed to have accepted him, even if just temporarily, under a truce. Whether that was because they knew they needed his help, or because they thought he’d taken the small child hostage was not something Stain wanted to think about too much.
There were more important things to focus on.
Like the fact that All Might was standing in front of the setting sun, his body silhouetted perfectly in the pinks and golds of the golden hour and the still blazing remains of the building.
Stain wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or impressed.
Which in and of itself was impressive.
All Might, as everyone knew, was the only true hero. He fought to protect others, before he so much as thought for himself. He was so self-sacrificing that in his young years he had often given his packed lunches to starving homeless people he met on the streets during his patrols and field work.
But here he stood, fashionably late to the party, and absorbing the villain’s attention.
The villain, who had started to edge towards Stain, his charges, and the people he’d planned on protecting, turned so suddenly to All Might that not a soul missed his appearance.
His appearance that made him look like an Adonian God wrapped in Aphrodite’s fineries, wielding Ares’ wrath and ready to wage war.
It was beautiful.
And very theatrical.
Stain really hoped, for everyone involved, that he wasn’t trying to make himself look good for any reason other than to spread a calm sense of surety. As opposed to good ratings in the next poll.
Not that All Might would ever lose a poll.
Especially a popularity poll.
Despite his hope for such an outcome, he knew it was wrong.
Because he wasn’t alone.
On his left was a boy, a young hero by the looks of it. Across his chest he had 100000000 scrawled across his costume. On his right was an old face that Stain hadn’t seen in a very long time.
It was Sir Nighteye.
Which meant one thing.
This was the ‘Big Bad’ that Nighteye had always been so stressed about when they’d worked together, back for those measly few years they shared on the same scene. The one Stain had always assumed to be the catalyst for the two to pull apart from one another.
It was strange, and scary, but not at all surprising.
Because it made sense.
A lot more sense than Stain would like to admit. But it explained who had been strong enough to raid the ‘bad place’ so quickly all those years ago, it explained who would be willing and able to keep someone as ferocious as ‘Kacchan’ under lock and key for so many years. It explained who could kidnap not only himself, but also a pro hero, and keep them captive for months at a time, without the rest of the heroes coming to save, at least, Eraserhead.
And, for the first time since it happened, maybe because of what had just happened with Dabi, maybe because it was such a current and present thought in his mind at the moment, Stain considered something that made him want to throw up.
Maybe the fire hadn’t been an accident. Maybe it had been a warning. Maybe Van had been murdered, and it had all been orchestrated by the prick in front of him to warn Stain and Izuku off from searching for Kacchan, from finding the truth.
Because if that had been the purpose, it had been a perfect execution.
It had killed their emotional stability for the next God knows how many years.
Their motivation to work had suffered a horrific blow, and sometimes, the only thing that got Stain throughout the day was finding out as much about the Pro Heroes he had thought had failed him and his family as he could.
But maybe Stain had been wrong.
Maybe everyone had.
And maybe, this man was responsible for it all.
*
It wasn’t complete synergy, but the small group of Vigilantes seemed to be in complete agreement.
This man wasn’t walking away.
No-one was sure quite who moved first, even the cameras couldn’t pick that up, but in a, quite literal, flash, the Nomu and Dabi both leapt forwards towards the villainous man, one creating fire out of thin air, and the other syphoning it for its own use.
The three heroes that had appeared on the rooftops moved with ease and practice, two with an amazing burst of speed and power, and the other with a precision that suggested foreknowledge of what concrete to avoid, where cracks would appear, and when the villain would strike.
Izuku knew their quirks though. All Might’s speed and strength were less demanding than usual, potentially to stay aligned with his allies, to make sure it didn’t turn into a 1-on-1 battle between big bad and big good.
Sir Nighteye’s quirk, probably, didn’t allow him to see an entire battle in detail, and Izuku didn’t know about the activation requirements, but nothing he was doing was incredibly inhuman, and honestly could have been achieved quirkless with the hero’s years of experience in the field.
The third, younger one, was more of a challenge, but Izuku was at least a little familiar with Lemillion. His quirk had at one point been permeation, but had mutated, or he’d realised a new way to harness his power. Izuku was willing to bet that, much like how he was ejected from the ground with the power let out from using the permeation ability, his strength could be linked back to a similar approach.
He had considered it a lot, that permeating his elbow or legs through his clothing could potentially open up the opportunity to strike harder and faster. It would also explain why he doesn’t seem to sink into the floor as often anymore, if he had to change how his costume was made to facilitate such a usage.
Never before had Izuku seen this though, because there was lighting flying around the boy’s body, and his ‘original’ quirk couldn’t explain this. Not when the sparks hit dry wood and set them aflame.
At least all it was really doing was giving the Nomu extra fodder to help fight All For One.
All For One, the villain that was still unharmed.
The man that was being pushed back a little bit more with every attack.
The monster that was holding back Sir Nighteye, Lemillion, Dabi and the Nomu without a second thought.
The murderer that was focusing his attention on All Might.
All Might that just got thrown through a building.
Everything, for just a moment, was lost in a flash of red and gold lights, the flames flickering around the warzone becoming eerily still.
For just a moment that was promptly broken by something unexpected.