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Izuku danced away from the blade, narrowly dodging the swipe even as he tried to keep an eye on both his opponent and the incapacitated Iida and Manual. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. He hoped that his classmates had received his message, but he was under no illusion; some of them would be too far away from Hosu to be able to help, and others might be too busy with the chaos happening around them to even look at their phones. His best hope was to make enough noise to attract attention and last long enough for reinforcements to arrive.
Stain was still talking—preaching really—but it was a good thing. The more he talked, the more distracted he was. If Izuku could just keep him distracted until reinforcements came, then maybe they would get out of this alive.
Seeing Todoroki at the mouth of the alley, dressed in his new uniform and scowling at his phone, was maybe the best sight that he’d seen. Todoroki was strong, and together they had a better chance to get out of this battle alive, maybe even win.
Turned out that it wasn’t enough. Even with their forces combined, they were losing. Iida was still paralyzed from the Hero Killer’s quirk, and Todoroki’s stab wounds were bleeding sluggishly. Izuku’s newfound proficiency with his quirk only helped so much. Stain, on the other hand, looked no worse for wear.
Suddenly, Stain’s eyes widened, and he leapt backwards mid-attack. A moment later would’ve left him looking like a pincushion from the barrage of throwing stars that embedded themselves on the ground where he’d been standing not a second ago. Izuku barely had the time to start turning his head to find where the attack came from when a strong gust of wind forced him to close his eyes.
A man wearing a green flak jacket and blue cargo pants was suddenly standing in front of them, a small knife trained in Stain’s direction. His jacket sported a red circle with a spiral between his shoulder blades, and under that jacket, sleeves covered his arms in the same navy colour as his pants. He had several pouches affixed to his outfit, likely concealing more weapons.
The man’s white gravity-defying hair was slanted to the left as if he’d blow-dried his hair only on one side. What little of the man’s face that Izuku could make out was covered by a navy mask, but he could already tell that this wasn’t any hero he’d researched before. Which meant that their saviour was either an underground hero or a vigilante. Izuku didn’t want to contemplate the possibility that he could be another villain. Surely their luck wasn’t that bad, right?
“Maa. Surely you can find someone your own size to pick fights with?” the newcomer asked with a mocking tilt of the head.
Stain’s face contorted into a snarl. “Who the hell are you? Another fake hero? Come here to die?”
The unknown man put away his knife into his thigh pouch while rubbing the back of his neck with the other hand.
“Hmm. Nope!” he replied cheerfully, “I only came here to ask for directions. You see, I seem to have gotten lost on the road of life. You wouldn’t happen to know how to get to Fire Country, would you?”
“I’m gonna kill you!” Stain gripped both swords and prepared to attack.
“You can’t let him drink your blood!” Izuku warned the stranger. “That’s his quirk, it allows him to paralyze someone if he ingests any!”
“Maa, maa. Don’t worry, small fry like that could never win against me,” he said, his only visible eye closing as if to indicate a smile.
Stain roared in anger and didn’t waste a moment to attack the stranger. He dashed forward with his sword, swinging in a wide arc. Izuku tried to scream to warn their saviour, but it looked like it wasn’t needed.
Seemingly without effort, the stranger blocked the blade with his knife that had magically reappeared in his hand (was that his quirk? unlimited weapons? or summoning weapons?), sparks flying where the two blades connected. They jumped back at the same time. A series of blows were exchanged, with neither of the fighters gaining an advantage.
Izuku began to realize that the stranger was herding Stain away from them. From the frustrated look on Stain’s face, he had come to the same conclusion. His strikes were becoming more agitated, almost desperate the longer the fight went on. In a last-ditch move, Stain surged forward and managed to nick the stranger’s cheek. His face split into a vicious smile as he brought the blade to his mouth. Izuku's heart sank.
“No!”
Poof! Where the stranger was standing, a log appeared in mid-air before falling on the ground with a dull thunk.
They all watched, dumbfounded, as the piece of wood rolled on the ground. Where does one even get a log in the middle of Hosu? Wait, was that his quirk? Being able to transform into a log? Even with his extensive knowledge of quirks, Izuku had never heard of one like this.
Before Stain could recover, another poof of white smoke appeared behind him. Their strange saviour had materialized from the smoke and sat crouched on the ground, his hands in front of him in a classic finger guns gesture. Then, in a cheerful voice, he cried out:
“One Thousand Years of Death!”
“What happened afterwards?” the detective asked.
“And then Stain was …” Izuku hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it, “he was incapacitated,” he settled on diplomatically.
“I think you mean that he was launched into the sun and fainted from embarrassment,” Todoroki corrected him drily. Any other person would’ve likely been rolling on the floor laughing, but Todoroki’s poker face was impressively blank, though his eyes glinted with mirth. Iida didn’t even attempt to hide the vicious satisfaction he felt over Stain’s defeat and humiliation.
Izuku didn’t have much sympathy either. And he had to admit that Stain’s face had been absolutely hilarious.
Bonus
An investigation into the man who captured Stain is opened by the police, but his identity is never discovered. Retrieved security camera footage shows the stranger leisurely walking all around Hosu, nose buried in a book. He enters several libraries where he browses books related to history, and physics, and geography. Another camera shows him leaving a bookstore with bags full of books. An inventory check reveals that he bought about a dozen trashy romance novels and twice as many porn books. The last known sighting of the stranger is a lone camera that shows him entering a dead-end alley and never coming out.
The case remains unsolved.