Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Izuku did not realize his mistake until far, far too late. The several large cuts, a slightly less than ideal amount of blood loss, and being forced to become the sole bulwark between a rabid serial killer and a fallen friend while a possibly dead pro-hero lay slumped against the grimy wall of an alley lit with hellfire and the screams of civilians’ kind of too late.

Had Izuku known how his night would end, he might have formally ended his internship and immediately gone to Mr. Aizawa. He definitely would not have asked to go with Hawks to continue his internship only to find himself stuck in an alley with no easy way out.

But Izuku had not known, and perhaps he was lying to himself, about not going even if he had. 

Because Izuku hadn’t known but he’d had his worries and if he hadn’t gone, Iida would already be dead. Izuku would brave the cuts of a thousand blades before he let that happen.

His visit to Hosu had started out fairly normal, with only a quiver of unrest to be found in the tension of Hawks’ wings and his own fears to hint at what was to come. Hawks was serious about laying low and not letting the public get wind of his sudden departure to Hosu. As soon as Izuku had agreed, he’d set Ms. Akazawa to work and before Izuku had known it, he had been ushered into yet another discreet car alongside his backpack, a subtly disguised Hawks – apparently sunglasses and casual clothes actually did throw people off and Izuku had several apologies to make to countless hero movies – and a pack of snacks handpicked by Ms. Akazawa herself.

Her quirk had to have something to do with clones or perhaps minor time manipulation because Izuku could almost swear she had been out front of the Aerie handling the press and at her desk making quick arrangements with both the Hosu and the Musutafu police while also giving him the food. He would have to ask her, if he ever had the chance to see her again.

The drive to Hosu was a few tense hours of biting back questions and trying not to look too interested whenever Hawks’ phone – which had been a constant buzz ever since Izuku had agreed and the preparations had began – was out of the hero’s pocket. Hawks himself hadn’t said much the ride over, which Izuku didn’t know whether to be thankful or worried over, but he had begun laying down the ground rules about an hour out of the city limits.

By the time they were pulling up to the back of a hotel that officially catered to the very wealthy and unofficially kept the top three floors permanently clear for confidential hero-work, Izuku had the rules tattooed into his mind.

He was not to leave the hotel for the night without Hawks’ explicit permission, barring an emergency. He was to have food delivered to his room, rather than go down himself. Izuku was to keep the door locked and work on going through the readings Hawks had given him as well as the notes Ms. Akazawa had somehow managed to type out and send to him about their work that morning. Hawks would take him to Manual’s agency the next evening – Izuku had privately sent a word of thanks that Manual was the hero Hawks had decided to reach out to – because the man had already gone on his night patrol and was unavailable for a meetup. Izuku would have more freedom then, under the watchful eye of another hero, and he would move over to Manual’s agency for the rest of his nights in Hosu, which would either last until the end of their internship or until Hawks’ business was finished.

Izuku didn’t mind the rules. He had planned on bunkering down and immediately trying to contact Iida – the other boy was undoubtedly on patrol with Manual but certainly they had breaks and the news that Izuku would also be in Hosu would certainly not be ignored the way the rest of his messages had been. Even if they were, Izuku would see the boy tomorrow and Iida was far too polite to ignore someone to their face. There was no reason for him to leave the hotel and he had no desire to disobey Hawks.

That was his thought when Hawks had led him up the back stairs of the hotel and onto a floor completely empty except for them and brought him to a suite nearly as large as Hawks’ apartment above the Aerie. It was his thought when Hawks bid him goodbye and left – not back out the front door as Izuku might have expected but through the double-wide windows that must had been designed with quirks like Hawks’ in mind. It was what Izuku was thinking when his first, second, third, and fourth texts to Iida went unread. It was his thought when a soft knock sounded on his door and he had dutifully waited nearly a minute until the deliverer was gone before getting up to take the bag of food they had neatly set outside his door.

It, however, flew out of his mind when a loud, reverberating crash broke through the silence of the room. All the remaining dredges of it were washed away by the shaking of the floor and the panicked screams that followed.

Izuku didn’t think. He pulled the first weapon he could reach – his bo staff, thankfully – from his bag and shoved his phone into his pocket before ramming his feet into his shoes and sprinting out of the door.

The floor lurched under him again as Izuku flung himself down the hallway and towards the stairs and he nearly careened into the door before managing to wrench it open. Screams and shouts were echoing throughout the stairs and Izuku didn’t hesitate to barrel down towards the sounds of screaming.

The first three floors were empty, either because the heroes who used them were already on the streets in the midst of the commotion or because he and Hawks were the only ones present, but Izuku tore the door open on the fourth floor to the sights and sounds of several people trying to make their way to the stairs as the building tilted precariously further.

The ones nearest were terrified but uninjured and Izuku held the door open and yelled for them to hurry out. One woman with a toddler on her hip and water dripping from her burgundy hair nearly didn’t go without him, a terrified but determined expression on her face and the undisguised scent of a panicked but protective omega wafting off of her – she must not have had any time to reapply any scent blockers, or perhaps the strength of her emotions overpowered them. Izuku had been forced to assure her, grateful as ever that his scent was still one of a child and not nearly as strong as an adults’ and that his mother always splurged for the mild scent-blocking deodorant they both preferred and that, that he was a hero student and more than capable of helping evacuate a collapsing building.

It was a stretch of the truth, at best. While there had been a few classes that touched on proper rescue behavior, there hadn’t been a major attempt at full-on rescue training, let alone how to handle a collapsing building, since the attack on the USJ, but the lady didn’t need to know that. Izuku needed to at least seem confident and, more importantly, he needed to get as many people out of the building as possible. He had no idea what had happened to cause the hotel to begin falling, had no idea what was happening on the street, but anything had to be better than dying slow under a ton of rubble.

The woman had hesitated for another moment before, with one final worried look, she followed the stream of people racing down the stairs, her grip on her child tight. Izuku didn’t have time to think about the woman any further – already high-pitched shouts for help were drawing him further into the floor and towards a room with the door flung wide. 

He found two boys, no older than preschool, crouched down by a fallen man. The bed in the room had tilted with the movement of the floor, pinning the man between it and the wall and there was an ominous dark splotch underneath the man’s head that had Izuku’s heart thundering in his chest. The children were desperately tugging at the man’s clothing with their tiny hands, trying and failing to pull him away from the wall and towards the door.

Izuku didn’t hesitate to run into the room and gently push the two boys aside. He didn’t know what he said, his mouth moved automatically, but the words that tumbled out must have been reassuring enough because the boys quieted their frantic screams and pleads and stood as two shadows as Izuku knelt as close as he could to the man.

The man’s breath was steady and Izuku felt some of the terrified tension leave his body even as he moved to gingerly run his fingers along the back of the man’s head. There was a large bump already forming where his head had slammed into the wall and Izuku’s fingers felt horrifyingly wet when he pulled them back.

He didn’t know serious first aid but he knew enough to realize moving the man with an unidentified head injury was a truly awful idea. But leaving him slouched against a wall that could come crashing down or letting him bleed out was surely even worse. Izuku had to get him out.

Mind made up, Izuku was quick to stand and push against the bed. It was surprisingly light for how heavy the frame of it looked and it moved away from the unconscious man easily. The man slumped forward the moment the bed was pushed away and Izuku had to quickly turn and catch him before he could hit the front of his head against the bed frame. The room lurched again and Izuku had to brace his back against the bed to keep it from pinning him and the man while the two boys shrieked again.

“Both of you, out!” Izuku’s voice came out far stronger than he currently felt, his fear morphing into a false tone of confidence as he ordered the two children. Both of them hesitated, their dark eyes shining with tears as they took in both the man and Izuku. Izuku knew he should be comforting, reassuring, but all he felt was a cold kind of terror. He couldn’t let two kids get trapped with him and this man, no matter what. But it didn’t seem the two would leave without the man, either.

Knowing it was beyond reckless and could easily do more harm than good but also knowing time was running dangerously close, Izuku stood and hoisted the man up, trying his best not to jostle the man’s head in the move. “Go!” He shouted to the boys, unable to gesture with his arms full. Finally, he had done enough. With one last look at Izuku, the boys grabbed each other and fled from the room. Izuku followed as quick as he could, trying and failing not to think about the warm blood dripping from the man’s head onto him or the way the man’s head dangerously jostled with every rushed step Izuku took.

The stairs were empty now – it must have taken Izuku longer to grab the man than it had felt or perhaps anyone left were unable to leave themselves, a thought that had Izuku’s heart aching even as he raced down the stairs on the heels of the two boys.

The foyer of the hotel was a mess of panicking people all either fleeing from the hotel or running around calling and screaming the names of loved ones they couldn’t find. Izuku desperately wanted to help them but the man in his arms and the two little boys were his current priority. He could come back and help others once he found them a safe place. First responders must have already arrived by now, Izuku just needed to give the man to one of them and then he could help more people.

That’s what Izuku had thought but once he pushed his way out of one of the entrances, he was met with an even worse sight.

Hosu was burning.

“Over here! Bring ‘em over here!” A voice loud enough to pierce through the screaming and crashing all around them, broke through the shock that had shrouded Izuku’s mind and he turned.

Izuku recognized the woman on sight as a newly debuted sidekick of Manual – their agency must have been running point on the evacuation measures – and he ran to her, the little boys trailing after him. “He’s got a head injury, ma’am.” Her hero name was escaping him but she didn’t seem to notice or care as she carefully ran a gloved hand across the cut on the back of the man’s head.

“Set him down over here,” her voice didn’t sound too worried as she gestured towards a makeshift triage that had been made under the relative safety of a still-stable building across the street. “Then you need to take those kids and –“ her words were interrupted by an ear-splitting screech.

Izuku’s blood froze. He recognized that sound; it haunted his nightmares in the dead of the night.

But that was impossible. Nomu was imprisoned; had been ever since the failed attack at USJ. The monster hadn’t even put up a fight, had he escaped somehow?

Were there more of him?

Was the League attacking Hosu?

“You need to go!” The woman yelled, and Izuku caught sight of her face, pale and terrified underneath a thin mask of confidence. She took the man from him easily with one hand – she had a minor weight changing quirk, his mind recalled distantly, - and pushed him forcefully with the other.

Izuku wanted to argue. He knew at a glance that the triage that had been set up was being run by a skeleton crew of sidekicks and a few paramedics who had been able to make it through – if that was Nomu or some other monster, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Izuku wasn’t much but he had at least faced Nomu before, he could share some information or exploit a weakness or –

Two, shaky hands clutched at his legs, tiny fingers clenching his pants in death grips.

Izuku’s arguments melted instantly. He knew the Nomu was dangerous, but he couldn’t abandon two little boys to fend for themselves amidst the chaos. He couldn’t.

“There’s an evacuation center being set up five streets down, go!” Izuku nodded and didn’t hesitate. With a quick thanks to the woman – he really needed to remember her name, it was awfully rude to keep referring to her like that – he took only a moment to scoop up both children, trying not to dwell on how badly they were shaking or the fact that the one in his right side was being smeared with the still wet blood on Izuku’s uniform, and began running.

“Don’t look, don’t look,” Izuku tried to keep his voice calm, quiet, steady even though his heart was thundering a staccato rhythm of danger, fear, guilt. The boys burrowed their faces into the crook of his neck in response and Izuku could only hope they had closed their eyes as they ran.

The streets were pure bedlam. Even taking the ones furthest from the disaster area, Izuku could hear screams and shouts and the flashes of fire were blinding, causing him to nearly stumble into others fleeing. But Izuku was determined and he caught himself every time, his arms briefly tightening on the two children to keep them secure.

They were whimpering, tiny little cries that had Izuku’s heart clenching and, almost without him thinking about it, he began murmuring. Soft little nothings at first, the way his mother used to do to him, but soon it morphed into indiscernible little titters.

Everyone could do them, little almost purring chits designed to comfort children, but it was an almost exclusively omegan habit and Izuku had rarely ever had reason to. It was dangerous, if the boys recognized what they were and told people, but Izuku didn’t have time to care. Keeping the boys as calm as possible was his only priority at the moment, so that’s what he would do.

Izuku kept a steady stream of the noises up as he ran, thankful as ever that Mr. Aizawa had drilled in the importance of endurance as his breathing and voice remained steady even as he pushed himself to go faster, ignoring the burn in his legs. The boys settled as much as they could, their tiny whimpers growing more faint, and they hardly seemed to notice even as Izuku had to abruptly cut the noises off as a police officer suddenly loomed in front of them.

“Got some kids here!”

Izuku flinched back as hands came out to grab at one of the boys; unbidden, a growl escaped his lips and the hands immediately retreated. “It’s alright, kid, I’m not going to hurt you.” The voice was soothing suddenly and Izuku recognized the uniform of the Hosu police.

“So-sorry,” he tried not to stutter but it came out as he blushed. Izuku didn’t growl, really. Some people did – Kacchan practically always had a growl in his throat – but Izuku’s mother never did, and so he had never really developed the habit. Not since he had been very small anyway, and still invited to playfights with Kacchan and the other children. But here he was, growling at police officers.

It was an embarrassing slip and Izuku tried not to think too hard about the fact that a second one was poised in the back of his throat, ready to strike, as the officer tentatively held out his arms again, purple eyes cautious but open. “Lemme take one of these little guys, I’ll help you bring them into the center. You’ll all be safe here.”

Izuku realized, belatedly, that he recognized the way the officer was speaking to him.

His tone was slow, cautiously nonthreatening. The officer had held his arms out but made no move to actually take either of the boys; his stance was open, careful. As though he was worried Izuku might attack him if he tried to do anything too sudden.

Izuku recognized it, although he had never had it directed at him, from various videos he had watched of rescues and fights. And from a single, half-forgotten memory.

He had been very small; still friends with Kacchan, when Uncle Masaru had decided they were ready to go on their very first errand and had sent them to the little corner store to pick a few ingredients for the lunch he was making them. They had gone, hand in hand – Kacchan pulling Izuku along as he always did, determined as ever to be at least one step ahead in everything but reluctant not to wait for anyone either – and Izuku remembered the feeling of pride that had gone along with the fear of suddenly experiencing the world all alone, with no adult by his side.

He had learned, just a little later, that they actually hadn’t been alone. Uncle Masaru had followed along, at a far enough distance that Kacchan and Izuku hadn’t seen him, but close enough to help if they encountered any trouble. That had proven a smart decision when, just across the street from the store, a figure had loomed in front of them.

It had been a stranger, some person that had their face covered – or perhaps they had a quirk that made them hard to recognize, Izuku didn’t quite remember. What he did remember was an oily, almost pleased voice, asking what two little kids were doing all by themselves and didn’t they know how dangerous it was, with all these people around.

Izuku, who hadn’t liked the voice the person spoke with and who liked strangers even less, had immediately burst into frantic tears while Kacchan, brave Kacchan who feared nothing even then when they were so small and the world so impossibly large, had rather rudely and loudly declared the only strange person was the one in front of them before asking who the hell they were.

Quick as lightning, it had seemed, the person’s hand had come down on Kacchan before either boy had been able to say anything. And then, suddenly, Uncle was there, a terrifying, loud noise echoing from the back of his throat as he bodily pushed the person away.

Izuku didn’t remember much after that, just the feel of Uncle’s arms strong around him and Kacchan as he scooped them up and that weird, crackly sound that colored Uncle Masaru’s voice as he spoke to a series of adults and the way all those adults had kept a careful distance between their little group.

It had been the only time he had ever seen his uncle angry and the first time he had ever witnessed anyone treat an omega as though they might actually be a threat.

It was a rare thing, an omega exerting the type of power most still seemed to believe belonged to alphas, but it did happen. Particularly when children were involved, heroes and first responders alike were taught to treat an omega on the verge of a panic reaction with caution lest they lose a finger.

Izuku had not expected himself to have that kind of reaction when it came to two little children he didn’t even know the names of, but more concerning, he had not expected anyone to recognize the panic in him and react accordingly.

Had the man heard him tittering at the children? Could he just see it in Izuku’s face?

Was Izuku reading too much into it? Was the officer just reacting the way he would have reacted to any stranger who growled at him in an emergency situation?

Izuku didn’t have time to dwell on his sudden fears because just then, as though the universe had decided this situation wasn’t messed up enough, a loud crash had erupted on the street and a Nomu, different from the one he had seen several streets down which confirmed the worst of his nightmarish suspicions about the Hosu attack, was screeching as it came barreling down the street.

Heroes were following it, lashing out before the Nomu could get too close to the center, and the officer who had been talking to him so cautiously moments before was now shouting at him, urging him to come into the center, swearing they would be safe there but they had to leave now.

Izuku knew that would be the smart decision. He was just a hero-in-training, after all; he didn’t even have his provisional license or permission from his mentor to fight. In fact, he had been explicitly warned off fighting or doing anything besides getting himself to safety. He had done so, and taken three people out of a dangerous situation with him – assuming the man at the triage center had also been brought into safety. Hawks would say that was enough; so would Mr. Aizawa. Izuku knew that. Knew that the fight against the horde of Nomu – and the League that must have brought them there – was not one he should have a part in, not with his limited training. Knew that to do anything else would earn him the ire of Hawks and likely spell the end of his internship.

Going into the center was the correct decision – he might even be able to help bring more people in once he explained to the police that he was a hero student, or at least help calm people down and administer the limited first aid that he knew – and Izuku had been about to follow the officer when a shout rang out that had his blood run cold.

Izuku didn’t even really know how he had been able to hear the voice, over the clamor of the disaster, but he did, clear as day, and he recognized the voice that had made it.

That was the Normal Hero: Manual. And he was calling Iida’s name.

Izuku didn’t think. He pushed two boys he’d carried across Hosu into the officer’s arms and took off, completely ignoring the shouts of alarm from the officer and the sudden cries of the two newly frightened boys, only sparing a single breath for a half-shouted plea for the officer to take the boys into safety.

It took only moments to reach Manual but those were moments too long; by the time he was close enough to call out to the hero, he had already said Iida’s name three more times, each call a little more frantic than the last.

“M-Manual, sir –“ The hero turned at the sound of his name, a look of hope quickly turning into thinly veiled dismay as he realized his name was being called by the entirely wrong boy. Before the hero could say anything – most likely an immediate admonition for Izuku being out in the midst of the violent attack and a demand for him to retreat into the evacuation center – he continued speaking in a rush of words. “I’m a hero student with Iida – I came with my mentor, Hawks,” it was a gamble to mention the number two although his presence in Hosu had to be known by now, the man wasn’t the type to sit out of an attack like this even if it jeopardized the original mission, Izuku was almost positive, and it was sure to anger the hero even more, but Izuku was already destined to be in a heap of trouble and Iida was more important anyway.

Recognition flashed across Manual’s face. “Midoriya? But you’re supposed to be in the hotel –“ he must have spoken to Hawks then, recently, probably the moment the attack began, but his information was dated. He didn’t know that the attack had reached that far.

“A Nomu destabilized it, I had to leave. But that’s not important, where’s Iida?” Manual looked like he wanted nothing more than to argue that a hotel collapsing was in fact important but he seemed to latch onto Iida’s name as quickly as Izuku had.

“I don’t know, he darted off once the attack began, into one of the alleys, I don’t know why but I have to –“

Manual, perhaps, didn’t know, but Izuku did.

The Hero Killer always attacked in the dark recesses of a city; dead ends, hidden alleys, abandoned buildings. And he was the exact type to take advantage of a city-wide disaster to continue his sick games.

Iida undoubtedly knew that but would he really have left so many civilians and his own mentor behind in the middle of a horrendous attack to take advantage of that knowledge?

Izuku was terrified about how quickly the yes came to his mind.

“I’ll help look for him,” Izuku volunteered immediately. Perhaps he could find him before he met with the Hero Killer; drag him back to safety before he crossed too many lines.

Manual looked unsure, taking in Izuku’s appearance. His lack of hero costume was all too obvious and Izuku knew that not even the uniform of a UA hero student would look too convincing in this situation.

Behind them, the Nomu roared and a building crashed, the reverberation nearly knocking both of them to their feet.

Izuku only felt a tiny bit guilty of pushing the sudden advantage. “Please, Mr. Manual, sir! You’ve got to focus on the Nomu, I’ll find Iida!”

It seemed the destructive strength of the Nomu was enough to finally convince Manual and he turned to join the fight, not even pausing as he called back to Izuku over his shoulder. “I’m giving you permission to be out here only to find Iida. Find him and bring him to the evacuation center. Lead civilians to the center if you find any but don’t stay out looking for them, it’s too dangerous. Do not engage with anyone.” Perhaps Manual did know more about the Iida situation than he had let on but Izuku didn’t have time to consider the emphasis of his words.

He was already running into the dark recesses of Hosu City before Manual had even fully finished speaking. 

It was strange, how muted the city seemed, the moment Izuku entered one of the dark alleyways. The screams were still present, but suddenly much further away, as the walls of the buildings seemed to compress against Izuku. The shadows, long and thin, seemed to reach out to him as he raced through the dark recesses, the light of the fires illuminating just enough that Izuku could see the barest outline of the dirty ground below him.

The first few turns led to empty alleys as if even the stray cats had fled from the attack. Izuku’s heart pounded harder and harder as every turn led him deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine alleys that made up the seedy underbelly of Hosu.

The buildings grew grimier, the streets grew ever quieter until the echoes of screams seemed little more than haunting whispers. Or perhaps it was just Izuku’s erratic heart thundering away in his chest, the blood roaring in his ears, that chased away the clamor of the city. The ground underneath Izuku’s feet grew more uneven, the aged asphalt cracked from neglect and overuse but Izuku didn’t dare slow down.

It felt like he had been racing through the streets for years, chasing after a ghost of a monster. Had it been minutes since he had left Manual in the midst of a Nomu attack? Seconds? Hours?

Izuku had no idea. Time was irrelevant, here in the belly of the city where a monster lurked. All that mattered was Iida; finding him and bringing him back to safety before he was caught by the Hero Killer.

A sound like a crack broke through the hushed quiet and Izuku pivoted, his heart pounding, and sprinted towards the entrance of another alley.

Relief and terror flooded his body as one when he took in the sight.

There was Iida, his gleaming uniform tattered and stained, dark blood dripping from a gash on the shoulder, his dark eyes brimming with hatred behind cracked glasses and his face gnarled into a snarl.

A man stood above him but Izuku didn’t have time to take in his appearance – the gleam of a blade caught his eye before anything else, poised above his friend and ready to strike a finishing blow.

Izuku didn’t think. He had the advantage of his sudden appearance and he pressed it. He ran headfirst towards the Hero Killer, pulling his staff from his pocket and pressing the button to fully extend it.

He had barely made it in time – even the fact that he had was more because the man had been too distracted by his appearance than any action of Izuku’s own merit – and the reverberating crash of his staff against the man’s blade was almost enough to send his staff flying from his hands.

But Izuku couldn’t lose his only weapon, no matter how much his arms tried to buckle under the oppressive force of the man’s strength. He couldn’t let that blade lower into Iida, no matter the cost.

“Oh, what’s this? Another brat?” The Hero Killer – for certainly that was who stood before Izuku now, with swords strapped across his back and a half mask like ragged bandages across the top of his face – sounded amused more than surprised. The rasp of his voice was grating with its obvious condescension and Izuku had never seen someone with eyes so cold. Izuku couldn’t even summon a single breath of relief even as the man stepped back, pulling his sword away from Izuku’s staff.

“Midoriya!” Iida’s voice was a gasp behind him, a mix of fear and outrage that felt wrong coming from the boy. “Leave! This is my fight, mine!”

Izuku had never heard such stupid words. He had feared Iida had gone after the Hero Killer but having it confirmed in those words was like a blow worse than any the hero killer could inflict.

“Hear him, boy? He doesn’t want you here. You should listen.” The Hero Killer’s voice was calm and his stance relaxed. Whatever he saw when he looked at Izuku, it wasn’t a threat.

Izuku couldn’t fight the Hero Killer – even just blocking that single strike had sent spasms of pain throughout his arms – but he could use the man’s underestimation of him. He had been doing that all of his life.

“I won’t.” Izuku spoke, his voice shaking despite his best attempts at remaining calm. He risked casting a glance around the alley and barely bit back a gasp as he saw another form slumped against the alley wall mere feet behind the killer. Native, another hero from Hosu, sat dead or unconscious and of utterly no help. Another person Izuku would have to save.

“Midoriya!“ Iida’s voice was sharp with rage, but the boy made no attempt to get up. There was nothing he could do, even if all he wanted was to force Izuku out of the fight.

“He knows you. You must be friends,” the Hero Killer sounded amused again. “It’s admirable, you coming for him, boy. But it’s no use. Your friend has chosen his path and it is not one of a hero. I do not kill children, normally, so I will let you go. Run away from here with your life, boy, and leave me to my business.”

“If you don’t kill children, won’t you spare him?” Izuku knew the answer, even before it had fully left his lips, but the actual answer to the question didn’t matter as much as the distraction it presented. He mimicked the man’s more relaxed stance and slowly slid one of his hands from the bo staff, aiming to reach for his pocket without taking his eyes from the killer before him.

The question served well enough; the Hero Killer threw his head back in a humorless laugh and Izuku seized the moment to slip his phone out of his pocket and pull it behind his back. “There is no place in the world for a violent, vengeful, fake like him.” The Hero Killer’s gaze fell back on Izuku as he spoke, all traces of laughter gone, leaving only the heavy rasp of the man’s voice. The weight was nearly buckling but Izuku fought to keep his stance even as he blindly tapped on his phone.

A message was beyond him, like this; his location sent to all his contacts would have to be enough.

It would have to be.

Someone, anyone would come.

Izuku just needed to make sure he gave them enough time.

“He’s not a fake.” Izuku’s voice cracked but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to pretend to not be afraid, he only needed to keep the man talking. Needed to keep that sharp, oppressive gaze locked on him.

He was gambling with his own life, bartering with the barest promise that the Hero Killer would not kill him.

“And what would you know of fakes, boy?” A sharpness to the tone now, but the Hero Killer’s body was still relaxed. It didn’t mean much, that stance. Certainly, the man was fast enough to attack Izuku within a blink of an eye, if he so chose, but it was something. A thin veneer of comfort was better than absolutely nothing. “What horrors have you seen? Safely tucked above the masses on the pedestal of that school of yours, what do you know of corruption, of fakes, of monsters masquerading as heroes?”

Izuku thought, rather unhelpfully, of Todoroki and Endeavor, of the Hero Commission, of Hawks’ late night calls.

He knew a rather lot more than he should, and practically nothing at all.

“I know Iida. I know he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Doesn’t deserve? Do you know why he came? What led to him being thrown on this alley floor like trash?” The Hero Killer’s voice was cold now. Izuku was fast losing his interest.

“No one deserves this.” Izuku responded, his voice more resolute than he had expected.

The Hero Killer hadn’t been expecting that response and he let out another bark of short laughter, the coldness in his voice slightly lessened. “Perhaps that is true, my methods are messy, I’ll admit. But the world does not care what is deserved and what is not, so neither do I. I do what is necessary to cure our society, nothing more.”

“Murder is never necessary!” And now it was Izuku’s voice that rang with anger.

The Hero Killer seemed truly amused now and his gaze, still impossibly heavy, seemed considering. “You speak like a true hero, boy. But I tire of this. Leave now, I won’t be lenient much longer.”

It hadn’t been enough time, not nearly enough.

Izuku braced himself and sent a silent apology to Manual. “I won’t let you hurt them!” He still didn’t know whether Native was unconscious or worse, but he wouldn’t leave him behind either.

The Hero Killer’s gaze darkened. “Then you have chosen, boy. Do not condemn me in your next life.” And without another word, the Hero Killer was upon him, sword raised.

Izuku deflected, barely, and used all his weight to force the Hero Killer back.

The man wasn’t expecting the strength hidden in Izuku’s arms and he had to take a step back, away from Iida.

Izuku pressed the advantage, and pulled the bo staff back, aiming for a sweep of the man’s legs but the Hero Killer jumped smoothly out of the way, raising another blade up.

Izuku pulled back too slow and couldn’t help but let out a hiss of pain as the sword glanced a stinging blow against his arm.

He raised the bo staff again, but the Hero Killer didn’t come after him again. The man grinned instead, raising the blade he’d used against Izuku up to his own face before licking a wide stripe on the bloodiest part of it.

Izuku tried to brace himself for the next attack but he stumbled unexpectedly, every muscle in his body seizing in a screaming burn of pain as he dropped to his knees. The Hero Killer merely grinned, again, before turning away.

“No!” A scream was all he could push out even as he struggled against the weight of his own body. He needed to move, needed to stand up, needed to run. The Hero Killer was taking his time, unbothered, as he stalked towards the prone body of Iida. Izuku could see that his friend was also struggling to stand but he was pinned by the same invisible voice that had trapped Izuku.

It was the Hero Killer’s quirk, it had to be. Some sort of paralysis, brought on by the consumption of blood.

It was a horrifyingly clear moment. This was how the Hero Killer immobilized so many pros so easily, so quickly. One nick from one of his blades, and the fight was over.

Izuku struggled to move but it was worthless. He could barely summon another shout as the man stood above Iida, his sword poised perfectly to drive into the neck of the boy below him.

Suddenly, like a gift from the heavens, the alley became illuminated with fiery orange and searing heat flooded the alley. The Hero Killer was driven back, his blade moving away from Iida as he rushed to escape the sudden stream of flame that had been aimed at his chest.

“Midoriya.” Izuku could have cried as the voice of Todoroki, stoically calm even in the face of this latest disaster, echoed throughout the alley. “Be more specific next time, I was almost too late.”

“Another brat, is it?” The Hero Killer’s voice was hardly more than an annoyed hiss – he was used to quick battles and swift getaways and the constant interruptions must have started grating him. Todoroki showed no outward fear as he stalked into the alley, his mismatched eyes making quick work of taking in the scene. “You have good friends, Ingenium.” The name was mocking on the man’s tongue and Izuku could see how it hit his friends. Todoroki’s eyes narrowed as a pained whimper made its way from Iida’s throat.

“Todoroki! This is my fight, leave me to it –“

“Shut up, Iida.” Todoroki’s veneer of calm cracked slightly as cold anger seeped into his voice and the look he shot Iida was pure disdain. “If this is your fight, stand up and fight it.” The words were cruel, although Izuku knew the reasoning behind them. They were cruel despite – or perhaps because of – their truthfulness and the wrath behind them was understandable.

Part of Izuku, the part buried deep underneath all the terror and fear and adrenaline and protectiveness, was angry too. Angry that Iida had decided to throw away his life so easily, angry that the boy was still trying to get them to leave him behind to face certain death as though they would ever actually dare.

Part of him was really angry.

But that anger wouldn’t help right now, as Todoroki faced down the hero killer, the only obstacle in the alley that could keep all of them alive. Izuku would deal with it later – and there would be a later, there had to be – but now, he needed to do all he could to help his friend.

His body was useless, but at least he could still speak. The paralysis didn’t seem to be strong enough to completely freeze its prey – a good thing, surely, as otherwise they might not have been able to even breathe, or even keep their hearts beating, if the paralysis was strong enough to truly halt all muscle motion and if –

Not now. Izuku cut his thoughts of abruptly. He needed to think only about what would help Todoroki now, not all the what-ifs of the Hero Killer’s quirk. “Don’t let him lick your blood, Todoroki!”  He yelled out as loud as he could, ignoring the way his chest burned from the effort of even that much. “That’s how he paralyzes!”

Todoroki didn’t glance away from the Hero Killer even as he nodded minutely at Izuku’s words. “I won’t allow him to cut me.” He vowed as he braced himself to summon another attack.

“That one’s a smart one!” There was that odd approval in the Hero Killer’s voice again even as he didn’t take his gaze from the latest threat. “And you’re a bold one. Are you sure you can do even that much?” The Hero Killer struck as he spoke, and Izuku barely bit back another shout as he was suddenly upon Todoroki.

Ice erupted between them and the Hero Killer was forced to jump back, his sword glancing off the edges of the spikes and sending bits of hardened ice everywhere.

But the damage was already done. A thin cut lacerated Todoroki’s cheek, small droplets of blood already begin to well up from the broken skin.

Todoroki looked shocked, surprised at the speed of the Hero Killer and Izuku wanted to scream as once again, the Hero Killer lunged at his friend.

Get up.

Fire this time, saved Todoroki from the attack but the Hero Killer had gotten even closer, nearly managing to lick the blood slowly spilling from Todoroki’s face. He must not have gotten enough on his blade – or perhaps it had been a piece of ice that had cut Todoroki, something the Hero Killer hadn’t had immediate access to.

Get up.

Todoroki landed a hit on the Hero Killer and the man grunted in pain as part of his shirt went up in flames. It didn’t do nearly enough to stop the man, and he was on Todoroki again.

Todoroki wasn’t fast enough with either hand and Izuku screamed as the Hero Killer’s hand clenched  Todoroki’s uniform, forcing their faces dangerously close, tongue already rolling out from his mouth.

Get up.

Pain laced through Izuku as he struggled against his clenched muscles. He needed to move. He needed to stand, to run.

And then, quite suddenly, the strain against his muscles was gone and Izuku was up.

One step, two steps.

Izuku was moving.

He didn’t dare stop, even as his mind ran wild with the implications his sudden ability to move made.

He brought up his staff in a wide arch, pressing the advantage of surprise by slamming the hard metal into the tender side of the Hero Killer. Without a thought, Izuku pressed the button on the side and the Hero Killer let out a pained grunt as electricity poured into him.

It wasn’t enough, Izuku knew immediately as the Hero Killer wrenched himself away from the staff and turned to Izuku with a growl on his lips. Todoroki had been released once the Hero Killer had been struck but the way he slid bonelessly to the ground, his mismatched eyes wide and his body trembling, told Izuku all he needed to know.

He had been too late, by just a fraction of a second.

The Hero Killer had gotten Todoroki’s blood and once more it was Izuku alone against the Hero Killer.

“H-how?” That was Iida who spoke, still trapped by the weight of his own muscles, straining to even look up at Izuku.

“There must be a time limit,” Izuku’s mind was running rampant but his gaze never left the Hero Killer. He knew, quite well, that the only reason the four of them were still alive was because the man wasn’t taking them seriously. Even now, after having landed a decent hit to the man, the killer was grinning at Izuku as though he was nothing more than a particularly entertaining pet.

Izuku didn’t think anyone else would be coming, not with the Nomu tearing Hosu into pieces. And he didn’t think, either, that the Hero Killer would continue playing for much longer. At some point, his need to kill would win out whatever interest he and Todoroki had managed to pike. And currently, Izuku was the only one able to move.

But the fact that he could move meant that it was possible that Iida or Todoroki could join back into the fight. Izuku just had to figure it out.

“Can’t be!” Iida grunted, some of the anger in his voice giving way to desperation. “You were struck after me!”

This was true. “There must be another component,” he muttered, considering. The Hero Killer was still grinning, apparently content to watch Izuku struggle but who knew how much longer that would last. Izuku didn’t know if he even had the strength to ward off another sudden attack. “The amount, maybe?” He didn’t know how much blood the Hero Killer had gotten from Iida but the burgundy stain on his armor wasn’t exactly small. That would mean Todoroki should be free soon, the Hero Killer had barely gotten any from him.

“You need to curb that habit, boy. Dangerous to let an enemy know your thoughts.” The Hero Killer forced Izuku from his thoughts and before the horror of having spoken aloud could even set in, the man was attacking.

Pain laced through Izuku’s arms as once again, his staff clashed against the Killer’s blade but that didn’t matter as the Hero Killer brought up another blade, in his free hand, and tried to slash at Izuku’s midriff. Izuku barely moved his staff in time to meet it. He was entirely on the defensive and there was no guarantee he would be able to withstand the flurry of blades for very long.

Not long.

Izuku bit back a scream as a brutal hit from the Hero Killer knocked his staff from his hands and fell to one knee to try and avoid the swing of the second.

He dodged, just barely, but it left him unprotected and he found himself staring up as the Hero Killer’s blade came down on him, too fast to evade.

A grunt of pain was forced from the Hero Killer’s lips as something silver and blurred slammed into him.

Iida was back on his feet. Izuku nearly cried out in relief at the sight of his friend, bloodied but stable, standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Midoriya. Todoroki.” Iida’s voice was completely devoid of anger as he stood, staring down the Hero Killer. “I let my own grief cloud my judgment and I got you hurt. I will not make that mistake again.”

“You speak prettily, little Ingenium,” The Hero Killer was the one to respond, his wrathful graze directed entirely on Iida even as Izuku struggled back up to his feet, panting heavily. “But a man who reveals his true colors cannot change so easily. You will always be corrupt, imperfect. There is no place for a fake hero like you in this world!”

The Hero Killer did not leave any time for the boys to mull on his words; before he had finished speaking, he was upon them again, aiming for Iida.

Iida barely dodged in time, his speed lower than it should have been. Whether it was the blood loss or the stiffness from being paralyzed for so long, Izuku didn’t know. It didn’t matter, Izuku wasn’t going to let Iida fight alone.

Fighting two people was a tougher challenge, even for the Hero Killer. He was aiming for Iida; he seemed to still hold no real malice against Izuku, and that slowed him down a bit because Izuku kept popping up in front of his blades, kept deflecting with his own staff, kept giving Iida just enough time to dart out of the way or aim his own kick at any unprotected area of the Hero Killer he could find.

Izuku was used to stepping in between people and danger and he was even more used to evasion. He knew how to use a larger opponent’s size against them – the vast majority of opponents he’d ever had were larger after all. He knew how to land a hit at a man’s weak points and he wasn’t above exploiting every single one of them.

Izuku had even thought, for just a moment when the Hero Killer had turned towards him too sharply and hadn’t been able to swerve away as Izuku dropped to the ground and sent the Hero Killer tumbling above him and into the hard alley wall behind Izuku, that perhaps they would win. It shouldn’t take too long for Todoroki to be able to move again and once all three were mobile, it could be quick work of grabbing Native and making a break for it.

They weren’t too badly injured; they could do it.

Izuku had never once considered overconfidence to be a weak point for him; but with thoughts and hopes of actually successfully fleeing crowding his mind, he made a terrible error.

Izuku had assumed some honor from the Hero Killer. The man operated on a series of twisted morals only a depraved mind could fully understand, but they were still morals. He claimed to not want to kill children and he had been directing his most brutal attacks towards Iida and had only even started to attack Izuku because he kept getting in the way.

Izuku had assumed, then, that Todoroki was safe. At least while he was paralyzed on the ground, the Hero Killer wouldn’t target him.

Or so Izuku had assumed.

Until the man, who made quick work of getting back up after his spill, dark blood dripping from his forehead where his head had scraped against the rough exterior of the wall, took one look at Izuku and Iida, both tensed for the next onslaught and grinned before darting – not for either of them – but for Todoroki.

Izuku shouted; his feet were already moving but he knew that he would be too late. He wasn’t fast enough nor strong enough and although he could see the tremble in Todoroki’s body as the boy strained against the Hero Killer’s quirk, he knew the other boy had yet to regain movement.

The Hero Killer’s sword was raised, poised to strike a devasting blow.

And then, suddenly, with a thud accompanied by the sick squelching sound of a blade tearing into supple flesh, the Hero Killer was forced back, and Iida was bent in front of Todoroki, his breath heavy.

He’d had one burst left, it seemed, but he hadn’t gotten there in time.

He’d saved Todoroki, but the cost, Izuku could see with dawning, dreadful horror, had been high.

A burgundy stain was blossoming on Iida’s arm, blood quickly drenching his armor.

The Hero Killer laughed. As he did so, he raised his blade, dark and wet from Iida’s blood, to his tongue and Izuku saw the moment it made contact. Iida’s body froze and he fell, unable to support his own weight on trembling muscles.

The Hero Killer stood over, not one, but two of Izuku’s friends, his blade poised once more to end their lives.

A piercing growl ripped out in the still air and Izuku would have been surprised, had he been capable of thought beyond the roaring in his ears, that it had come from him.

He didn’t stop to think, to strategize. Every instinct in his body screamed to protect, to keep Todoroki and Iida safe from harm.

Adrenaline rushed through him as he raced towards the Hero Killer, uncaring that his staff still lay abandoned somewhere in the dark corners of the alley. This time, the man barely had time to turn before Izuku was upon him and he could do nothing but grunt as Izuku poured every ounce of strength he had into a vicious upper cut. The man stumbled from the surprise hit and a bit of blood – the Hero Killer’s own, for a change – trickled from his mouth as his own teeth tore through his bottom lip from the force.

Izuku didn’t wait – before the man had time to regain his bearing, Izuku’s left fist was buried in his stomach and the man was gagging.

It was brutal, unrefined; every carefully honed skill he’d learned after years in the dojo was forgotten in the wave of his fury.

All that mattered, in that moment, was stopping the Hero Killer, any means necessary.

And for several glorious moments, Izuku was successful. But he was just a boy; he did not have super strength or the ability to harden his fists or enlarge them. The Hero Killer was a man, with experience and strength and a quirk Izuku couldn’t even begin to overpower.

Eventually, the Hero Killer regained his footing and the raw, desperate fight turned into a deadly dance as Izuku was forced back onto the defensive, evading the Hero Killer’s blade with no weapon to deflect it.

It had only been a few moments, but it had been enough. Just enough.

Ice, cold enough to crystalize Izuku’s breath into a cloud in front of him, slammed into the Hero Killer and flung him down the alley, away from Izuku.

Todoroki was back on his feet, a thunderous expression on his normally impassive face.

Had it been minutes since he’d fallen? Seconds? Hours? Izuku had no idea. Had the time limit run out? It must have, but how? Iida had been down for a much longer time, but had Todoroki been down for a longer or shorter time than Izuku?

What controlled it? What was the limit?

The Hero Killer was struggling against the hard ice Todoroki had shot at him but he wouldn’t be for much longer. Izuku needed to figure out the constraints of the killer’s quirk if they stood a chance.

The Hero Killer had taken more blood from Izuku, he was almost positive. But it had certainly felt like Todoroki had been down for a longer amount of time.

What else could it be? What other difference could be in their blood that the limit was based on?

The realization hit him just as the ice surrounding the Hero Killer shattered and the man was free once more.

“It’s blood type!” Izuku yelled even as Todoroki and him both swerved from the rushing onslaught that was the Hero Killer. “That’s what dictates the amount of time you’re paralyzed!” That was the only guess that made sense.

“Smart boy,” The Hero Killer said, confirming Izuku’s words even as he flung a blade out at him. Izuku twisted away just in time, and the sword clattered against the wall behind him. Having one less blade didn’t deter the man in the slightest and it was only another blast of ice that kept another of the Hero Killer’s blades from spearing him. “I’m getting tired of this.” The man growled, turning towards Todoroki.

If Izuku had been thinking clearly, he never would have dreamed of what he was about to do. But clear thoughts had fled his mind ages ago and it was without a thought that he picked up the blade the Hero Killer had disregarded and flung it at the man’s exposed back as he slashed at Todoroki.

Izuku had barely practiced with blades – Hawks had given him one during their training, just to see what he could do, and had just as quickly snatched it back when Izuku had very nearly impaled himself with it – but he knew the theory of them. The short sword the Hero Killer had thrown at him wasn’t ideal for throwing, too long, too heavy and unbalanced, but Izuku made up for that by sheer force.

By some small miracle, Izuku’s desperate act worked and the blade sunk deeply into the flesh of the Hero Killer’s shoulder.

It wasn’t enough, Izuku realized with dawning horror, as the man simply snarled and ripped the blade out, uncaring of the way blood flowed freely from the torn skin. The Hero Killer turned back towards Izuku, bloody blade still in hand; his expression was cold, colder than it had been all evening and Izuku felt his body freeze as though it was his own blood dripping down onto the Hero Killer’s blade.

Todoroki raised up another sheet of ice, seemingly hoping to freeze the man in place, but it was too late. With a small jump, the Hero Killer was in the air before the ice could trap him and then he was back on the ground and careening towards Izuku, swords in both hands outstretched as though to tear through Izuku.

The man wasn’t playing anymore and the ice only made him faster. Izuku knew there wasn’t enough time to escape.

Distantly, he heard something that sounded like his name, choked out in Iida’s panicked voice, and a warning shout that might have been Todoroki but it was all background noise, nearly as far away as the continuous sounds of Hosu’s destruction. Izuku didn’t even have time to brace himself as the Hero Killer narrowed in on him – the Hero Killer’s swords were mere inches from him now and all Izuku could do was turn away and raise his arms in a desperate bid to deflect the blades from his vital spots and brace himself for the blow.

Hopefully, Todoroki would be able to keep going long enough for Iida to get back up. He hadn’t had a chance to ask the other boys’ their blood type, but he was sure Iida wouldn’t be down for too much longer.

Izuku doubted he would be able to get back up from this last blow. It would all be up to Todoroki, but the boy was strong. If any of them could do it alone for long enough, it was him. He’d just need to keep the Hero Killer at bay until Iida could get up again. Then they could flee, get help.

Izuku wanted to tell them to leave him behind – the Hero Killer had expressed some weird fascination for him, so it was likely that he would be left alone, after this final blow, might even survive it – but he found his voice wasn’t quite working, his words were caught in the back of his throat.

He could only let out a wordless scream as he felt the first of the blades sink deep into his arm, mere inches from the first cut the Hero Killer had given him.

His eyes closed, despite his best efforts, in preparation for the following wound and the pain that would follow

It proved a good decision as – rather than the excruciating pain he was expecting from his midriff – scorching heat flared to life, burning away the remnants of his sleeves and searing into the exposed skin of his raised arms.

Todoroki had summoned more fire. Had saved Izuku just in time and forced the Hero Killer and his blades back once more.

But the flames were hotter than Izuku had ever felt from Todoroki and, even as he took a staggering step backwards and used his left hand to press against the gash in his arm, he worried that the boy had overdone it. Todoroki was susceptible to quirk exhaustion and he wasn’t immune to his own fire. If he burned himself out, they would be dead.

Izuku forced his eyes open, ready to see a pale Todoroki with red-hot flames flickering around him.

Flames greeted him but they weren’t the fiery red and flickering orange he was used to.

They were blue.

And they weren’t coming from Todoroki.

“What the hell is this? Another distraction.” The Hero Killer had been pushed further back than Izuku had expected and he could see from the ugly pink of his arms and a good portion of his chest, that he hadn’t been quick enough to escape the electric blue flames. His tone was furious but his gaze – for the first time since the battle started – was not focused on any of the boys but on the entrance of the alleyway and a shadowy something that stood in the center of it.

Izuku bit back a shout of alarm as the something took several slow steps into the alley. He was a man, of relatively average height, in a pair of worn black jeans and a plain, low-necked t-shirt with a ratty, long dark blue coat thrown over it all. He would have been unremarkable, perhaps, if he hadn’t been casually strolling into the alley with flames flickering from his palms.

And if his face, arms, and what Izuku could see of his chest hadn’t been mottled with dark, ruined skin held up by shoddily lined medical staples.

And if his eyes, nearly the exact shade of electric blue as the crackling flames that seemed to mirror his every step into the alley, didn’t spark with a manic gleam that sent shivers down Izuku’s back.

“Well, well, well.” The man’s voice was deep and rough but his tone was calm, bordering on bored as though he hadn’t stepped into a battle. As though the city around them wasn’t under attack. His eyes flickered around, dancing between everyone. It took only a moment for his searing gaze to land on Izuku, who stood nearest him, but it felt like an eternity before the man looked away. A horrific mimicry of a smirk tugged the ruined skin of his jaw up as the man’s gaze landed on the Hero Killer. “Attacking children, are we? Gotta admit, I pegged you as a bit more than a schoolyard bully, Stain.”

The man’s tone hadn’t shifted; it was still casual, calm, as though greeting an acquaintance or an old friend.

Izuku didn’t know what to make of this; and from the way Todoroki stood tense, ready to attack at any moment and from the way Iida’s body was trembling as though the boy was struggling even now to stand despite the blood still steadily dripping from his arm, he knew the others felt the same.

The Hero Killer snarled at the newcomer. “Who the hell are you? What business do you have here?”

“Ah come on, you don’t recognize me?” The man’s voice was playful now and the flames dancing on his palms were unceremoniously snuffed out as he shoved them into his pockets, seemingly without a care in the world. “I’m a big fan of your work, you know. Ridding the world of corruption, culling fake heroes, all that shit.” Izuku’s body tensed with those words.

Was this man going to help the Hero Killer? They were barely holding their own against the Hero Killer, another opponent would be the death of them.

But if that was the case, why had the man sent flames towards the Hero Killer? And why, even now, was the Hero Killer looking so absolutely furious?

“I do not need fans or anything else. I do not care who you are or if I am supposed to recognize your hideous face. Leave me to my business or I’ll cut you down too.”

“Oh, ouch. Don’t you know I’m sensitive about all this?” The man made a joking motion towards his face, evidently unfazed by the threat. “Besides I can’t leave you to shit. You pissed off the boss man, with your little stunt back in the bar, you know? And now he’s sent me to clean up the mess.”

Izuku had no idea what was going on. What bar? What boss? Was this man a friend or foe?

The Hero Killer, unlike Izuku, seemed to finally recognize the man. “That brat sent you, did he? Why don’t you turn tail and tell your boss I’ll deal with him later. After I take care of this.” The Hero Killer seemed almost amused, as though the realization of who the figure’s boss was suddenly lowered his threat level.

The man seemed unfazed. “Nope.” He popped as he leaned back, hands still buried in his pockets. “Even if I could stand to listen to him bitch about letting you go, we wasted too much firepower on this. Kind of a once in a lifetime opportunity, you know? Those things out there aren’t exactly a dime a dozen.”

Izuku’s entire body ran cold.

Those things.

He was talking about the Nomu, he had to be.

But if he was talking about the Nomu, that would mean his boss was –

“You tell Shigaraki to rot in hell!” The Hero Killer was furious again, all traces of amusement gone and a new blade was in his hand.

“Nah,” The man’s voice was still casual even as fire erupted all throughout the alley.

Izuku barely jumped back in time, the heat scorching as the tips of the brilliant blue flared white-hot. He couldn’t see Todoroki or Iida or even Native through the flames but he had to find them while the two men distracted each other.

The man was from the League of Villains; he wasn’t going to help them.

There was a good chance, even, that he would finish what the Hero Killer had started, if he won.

Izuku fumbled, trying to pull the fabric of his blazer up to his mouth to curb smoke inhalation. The flames weren’t spreading, somehow, so he wasn’t in danger of burns but who knew how long that would last. Even without being too near them, the air was almost unbearably searing, as if he had found himself in the middle of a crematorium.

“T-Todoroki!” He gasped out, searching for even a hint of his friend. Had the other boy been hit? Was he in the midst of the flames? “I-Ida!”

All he could see was the man, his tattered coat almost floating from the force of his fire. The Hero Killer was lost to the flames but it would only be a matter of time before he made his way through. A monster of a man like that wouldn’t be so easily defeated.

But the Hero Killer was gone, for the moment. But the man was there; the man was looking at him.

Izuku braced himself for a blast of flames. How easy would it be, for the villain to make quick work of him?

How much of a massacre would it have been, at the USJ, if this man had been present?

Burned, charred bodies rose up in Izuku’s mind, unbidden, and he gasped as he stumbled back, suddenly terrified of electric blue eyes locked onto him.

An attack would come, he was certain.

But the man merely smirked, his ruined skin straining against the metal staples, and tipped his head to his left. “Whatcha waiting for, fledging hero? A handwritten invitation? Your friends are that way, seems that white-haired brat put up some ice or some shit. Get the fuck out of here.”

Izuku was stunned at the man’s words. He was letting them go?

But he was a villain, and a part of the group that had tried valiantly to turn Izuku and his classmates into corpses, and he hadn’t seemed to care about nearly burning them with his own quirk.

But there wasn’t a lie in the man’s voice; and the flames seemed to rescind, just slightly, in the direction he’d nodded to, as though something was eating away at them from that corner and the man wasn’t bothering to fight it.

And something about his words, about what he had called Izuku, seemed to nibble at the back of his mind, as though he had heard it before, somewhere.

But who would have called him a fledging hero?

Izuku didn’t have time to hesitate anymore as, with a shout, the Hero Killer broke free of the flames and the man’s attention was, almost mercifully, pulled away from Izuku as he turned sharply to evade being impaled.

Izuku knew it was stupid to trust anything about the man but he found himself barreling past the fight in the direction the man had pointed out.

The heat around him plummeted as he made out a thick sheet of ice breaking the alley into two pieces. The flames were eating away at the ice, melting it into thick puddles along the alley ground and Izuku nearly tumbled as he slipped through it but he didn’t dare stop. The ice didn’t go all around – Todoroki probably only had time to throw up just enough to keep the fire from hitting him – and Izuku breathed his first sigh of relief as he skidded through an opening between the wall and the ice.

Todoroki was there, pale-faced and panting, a bit of a frozen sheen across his cheek, but he was alive and crouched protectively over Iida, ready and willing to attack whoever broke through his ice.

“Midoriya,” there was relief in his voice, quiet as ever, and it was almost enough to calm Izuku’s still racing heart. “Who is that man? Is he a really a part of the attack?”

“I-I’ve no idea,” he was panting, struggling to catch his breath even as he fell to his knees and placed a concerned hand on Iida. Iida was conscious – his eyes were wide and regretful as he caught Izuku’s gaze – but he was still frozen, his body straining and trembling. “But he’s not good news,” he pushed aside his confusion and the fact that the man had technically saved him. None of that changed the fact that the man was dangerous. “We’ve got to get out of here while we have the chance. Did you see where Native was before the fire started?” Izuku was trying to remember how far away the man was but it was hard. The sounds of fighting beyond the ice – of clattering swords and rushing flames – seemed to be getting louder, as though the men were drawing closer. Was that on purpose or accidental? Was the Hero Killer still trying to target them even with such a more dangerous threat close by?

“No.” Todoroki’s word was accompanied by a shake of his head and another sheet of ice. He was trying to reinforce the small glacier he had made but Izuku could tell he had well-surpassed his limit.

“He was against the wall, by that dumpster towards the back of the alley.” Iida’s voice was quiet, weak, apologetic. “Once I –“ his voice became strained and the trembling of his body grew rougher as he tried to break free of the Hero Killer’s quirk – “once I get up, I’ll retrieve him. I have another burst left, I’m sure of it.”

Izuku quite doubted that. The blood had finally stopped flowing from the gash in his arm, but his friend looked pale and pained, his breath labored although whether that was from the smoke inhalation or the blood loss was hard to tell.

“That won’t work.” Todoroki was matter-of-fact as he cut down Iida’s words and Izuku almost shot him a reproaching look as he tore part of the ruined sleeve of his blazer off and quickly crawled over to Iida’s arm to bind his wound.

“Maybe if –“ Izuku began, his mind racing as he tried to control the trembling in his fingers long enough to securely tie a knot against Iida’s red-stained armor. Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as, with a crack like a thousand gun shots, something tore through Todoroki’s ice. Izuku didn’t even think as he pulled Iida towards him and away from whatever had come through.

It was a person, Izuku was nearly certain as he looked up to see something sprawled loosely across the hard ground where Iida had lain moments before. The figure was so charred, it was nearly impossible to make out any features; his clothing had melted into his skin and only the empty hilts still strapped to his back and his face, untouched from the brutality of the fire, were recognizable.

“I-is he?” Izuku felt like he was going to vomit as Iida spoke up from his side, voice shaking with disbelief and fear, and even Todoroki – who had raced to his feet with both hands raised to attack when his ice had first broken – looked shaken as he took a hesitant step forward and knelt over the man.

“He’s still breathing.” He announced, after a moment, but the words were no relief.

The Hero Killer had murdered seventeen fully-fledged heroes and critically wounded twenty-four more. It had taken all three of them just to keep him temporarily at bay.

And that man, within minutes, had utterly destroyed the Hero Killer.

Was he still out there?

Was he coming for them next?

Izuku wanted to do nothing more than to stay seated on the ground, Iida’s body protectively held close to him. Wanted to do nothing more than to take hold of Iida and Todoroki, find Native and flee this nightmare.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave a man like that out there; he was beyond dangerous and had admitted that he was part of the Nomu attack. If he rejoined with the Nomu destroying the city, Hosu wouldn’t survive the night.

On shaking legs, Izuku stood, careful to nudge Iida off of him, and made his way to the massive hole the Hero Killer’s body had left in the ice.

With a terrified breath held deep in his chest, Izuku peered out over the broken shards that had been their only defense.

He was weaponless, bleeding, and beaten.

He was prepared to fight anyway.

 But none of that mattered.

Nothing but an empty, destroyed alley, with flames weakened by the loss of their master flickering feebly in the corners, greeted him.

The man was gone.

Izuku fell to his knees, relief crashing into him. He couldn’t even summon a word of reassurance to ward off Iida’s immediate shout and the slamming of Todoroki’s feet on the ground as the boy ran towards him.

The Hero Killer was defeated.

The man was gone.

Hosu was quiet around them. Izuku didn’t know if the fighting all throughout the city was over or if he was going numb with shock, unable to hear or feel anything around him.

Suddenly a shout, movement, in the alley in front of them.

Red was suddenly all around him. Red feathers, shining bright in the alley, nearly blinding to Izuku’s eyes.

Hawks.

Hawks.

The Hero Killer was defeated.

The man was gone.

Hosu was quiet.

Hawks was here.

They were safe.

The world went black.