Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Izuku emerged from the portal at the designated place.  Sure enough, someone was there waiting for him.

“You’re late,” said the man, dressed in a white, hooded cloak.  Under the hood, the beak of a birdlike mask projected out, while lenses glinted from the inside, indicating that said mask covered the entirety of the man’s face.

“I’m at the appointed time, according to my watch,” said Izuku checking his watch, just to be sure.

“Time is precious to the Boss,” said the man, turning to walk ahead of Izuku.  “Therefore, I recommend arriving at least five minutes early to any and all future appointments.  You must show proper deference to your seniors and betters at the very least.  That’s how you survive in this business.”

“A villain is never late,” said Izuku simply.  “Nor is he early.  He arrives precisely when he means to.”

“That isn’t your place here,” the masked man replied.  “Do not make the mistake of believing that you can hold yourself equal to us.”

Izuku sighed, settling his hands into his pocket as he walked.  “Quite the big talker for a bunch of relics of the pre-Quirk era.”

The man, Chronostasis, if Izuku remembered Overhaul’s name for him properly, turned.  Izuku could sense the glare coming from behind the man’s mask.

“You’re treading dangerous ground,” Chronostasis said, his voice a low growl.  “You do not have the luxury of disrespecting us.”

Izuku rolled his eyes.  “Yeah yeah…yakuza pride and honor and all of that…if you really were capable, you wouldn’t be scrabbling so desperately for All For One’s leftovers.  Just keep in mind who you’re dealing with.”

“Someone who has notions that he can stand above his station in the world,” said Chronostasis, his hostility rising.

“Someone who has the key,” Izuku replied.  “Kill me, and you can kiss any hopes of accessing All For One’s fortune goodbye.  You and your fellow yakuza can raise funds for Overhaul’s little project with a bake-sale then.  But if your pride is so important, go ahead and kill me…then start cooking.”

Chronostasis growled in the back of his throat.  But Izuku stood his ground, staring back patiently.  “Now who’s the one keeping Overhaul waiting?”

With a final huff, Chronostasis turned on his heel, stalking ahead.  Izuku walked behind him, his pace measured, every aspect of his body suggesting complete control.  Their trip took them down an alleyway, where Chronostasis opened an unassuming door.  Entering, they found themselves in what looked like a storage room of some kind.  Izuku saw buckets of chemicals, most of them looking like some kind of cleaning solution.  There was another door at the back of the room, this one protected by a much more advanced-looking electronic lock.  Chronostasis entered a code, and the lock beeped, the door opening with a click.

From there, Izuku followed the man down a flight of stairs.  When they reached the bottom, they found themselves in another room, which looked almost like some kind of lounge.  Three other men were there, all of them wearing masks similar to Chrono.  One of them stood up and picked up a metal wand-scanner, walking over to Izuku.

“Entry check,” the man said.

“So very cautious,” Izuku noted.

“We know full well that your gear is the key to your threat,” said Chronostasis, as the man ran the wand across Izuku’s body, starting at his right ankle, moving it up and over his head, and down the other side, before sweeping it over the front, and then the back.  “Without your little toys and implements though, you’re just some Quirkless child, pretending at being a villain.  As such, keeping you in check is simplicity itself.  Be grateful that Overhaul is giving you this chance, boy.”

The wand had beeped when it had run over Izuku’s watch, which was to be expected.  One of the other men held out his hand, and Izuku took off the watch and handed it over.  The man took the watch over to something that looked like the security scanner one would find at the airport.  After the watch was sent through on the conveyor belt, it was returned to Izuku, who strapped it back to his wrist.

“As you can see, I know better than to try anything,” Izuku said simply.

“You’ve already shown that your ambition is beyond your means,” said Chronostasis.  “Now follow me.”

They set out through a hallway, carved through concrete and earth.  Despite that, the walls, floor, and ceiling were scrupulously clean, almost to the point of being completely sterile.  Izuku followed behind Chronostasis, not saying a word, merely noting every twist and turn they took.  The layout’s changed since last time.

There were turns that didn’t exist where they’d gone last time, branches that were closed off, bends that had become straight.  I see…clever…they have someone who can manipulate the earth or objects…In addition to Overhaul himself, it must be that guy.

It was several more minutes, before they finally arrived at the office.  Izuku immediately went and sat down on the couch across from where he knew his host would be seated.  Chronostasis moved behind him, his posture as stiff as always.  On top of the table between the two couches was a small figure, almost like a doll, a diminutive humanoid shape of black cloth, with a white, beaked mask over it.  The little figure had a stack of money it was currently counting.

Mimic…was it…? Izuku mused, watching the toylike entity out of the corner of his eye.  The fact that he’s planted himself into something so small is probably to throw off estimates of what he can manipulate.  He’ll be the primary target then.

The door clicked open, and a familiar figure walked in.  It was a young-looking man in a green jacket with a fur collar, a beaked mask covering his nose and mouth.  His gaze was intense, yet his posture was remarkably casual, given his position.

Izuku’s mind flashed back to the first time he’d met this man.

“Meeting in an abandoned warehouse like this…” grumbled Hiroki, his wings buzzing against his back, “…it’s practically villain-cliche 101.”

“But we used to live in an abandoned warehouse like this,” said Kaede, sniffing.

Izuku looked over to where Mawata was leaning against a stack of crates, a faraway look in her eyes for a moment.  “Are you okay?” he asked softly, resting his hand against her forearm.

Mawata blinked, snapping out of her daze and looking at him.  Then she took a breath, shaking her head, making her cotton-ball earrings swing through the air.

“I’m okay,” she assured him.  “It just…brings back memories.”

Izuku nodded.  “If you need to…you can head back.  I’ll be okay with the other three.”

“Indeed!” declared a bombastic voice that bordered on pompous, a rakish-looking man, dressed in an elaborate outfit, sporting a black jacket with an enlarged collar and coattails.  His distinguished silver hair was combed back over his head, while a neatly-groomed mustache hovered just above his mouth, which was framed from below by an equally neat and groomed beard.  His blue eyes glinted, even in the dark twilight of the warehouse.  His left hand rested atop the crook of a silver cane with a gold tip that rested on the floor.  All told, the man seemed like he belonged more in a high-class social gathering, rather than a meeting between villains in a dingy warehouse.

“Worry not, milady Fuwa!” boomed Tobita Danjuro, known to the underworld as Gentle Criminal.  “We shall see to your paramour’s protection, and ensure that no harm comes to him…!  Not that he really requires such consideration.”

Mawata giggled, her smile hidden behind her mask, but apparent in how her eyes crinkled.  “Thank you, Gentle,” she said.  “But I’m okay.  I want to be here for this.”

“All right then,” said Izuku.  “Let’s keep things calm right now.  That’s why Striker’s not with us after all.”

“He’s still sore you left him out,” said Kaede.

“He’s a little bit on the impulsive side,” said Izuku.  “I get the distinct feeling we’re…me in particular…about to be disrespected something fierce.  I want people who can keep a cool head with me for this meeting.  I don’t want to start anything if we don’t absolutely have to, even if this guy winds up literally spitting in our faces.”

“Unless his spit is part of his Quirk,” mused Hiroki.

“If it is…we’ll deal with it,” said Izuku.

“You think this guy doesn’t have a good opinion of us?” asked Kaede.

“Those outside the yakuza view them as dusty relics of a forgotten age,” said Izuku.  “But from their perspective, they’re the old guard, the preservers of sacred tradition.  To them, we’re a bunch of upstarts with no real history behind us.  It’s like old money families looking down on the nouveau riche.”

“I guess I could see that,” said Hiroki.

“It’s a bitter notion to think that someone would be so crass with you, my dear leader,” declared Danjuro.

“We’ll deal with it,” said Izuku.  “It’s not that much of a surprise.  Given how long he’s been around, I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of people think that All For One croaked on his own, and I simply tripped over his corpse and planted my flag on it.”

“What do you think they want?” asked Mawata.

“That much is pretty obvious, from the proposal La Brava relayed to us,” said Izuku.  “They want access to All For One’s funds.”

“They want us to sponsor them monetarily?” asked Hiroki skeptically.

“They framed it more like they were giving us the privilege of allowing them to manage All For One’s wealth in our place,” Izuku replied.

“Like we’re kids being given an allowance,” grumbled Kaede.

A tone came from Izuku’s helmet, which he was cradling in the gauntlet over his left hand.  “Looks like he’s here.”

The others all stiffened slightly, before taking their places.  Izuku settled his helm over his head, feeling the seals lock into place with a mechanical hiss.  The warehouse flashed back into view, his HUD overlaying the scene.  It showed that Iori’s transponder was approaching.  One of his smallest feather-drones detached from the array over his left shoulder, heading out through a window and up into the air overhead.  A window opened on the screen, showing the an image from the drone’s position.

Iori was making her way down the street outside, followed by a masked man.  Iori’s expression was careful and guarded.  Izuku carefully lowered the drone’s altitude, allowing it to pick up what they were saying.

“This is where the infamous Rationals are hiding?” the man asked.  “With access to All For One’s funds, there should be no need for you to operate out of a dump like this.”

“Do you honestly think we would take you to our base of operations?” Iori asked in reply.  “This is just a convenient meeting point.”

“This place is so filthy,” the man grumbled.  “I’m gonna catch something.”

“You’re the one who called for this meeting,” Iori replied.  “Don’t get worked up because we didn’t book a three-star restaurant for you.”

As they approached, the drone’s sensors picked out additional presences.  The yakuza hadn’t come alone.  Using the drone, Izuku scouted them out, finding an assembly of rough-looking personages.  Much like the man, they were wearing beaked masks, though all theirs covered their faces completely.  They were keeping their distance.

“We’re not the only ones prepared, if things get ugly,” Izuku noted.

The door to the warehouse slid open, and Iori came in, quickly making her way over to join the rest of the group, a faint relief in her eyes as she settled in next to Hiroki and Kaede.  Meanwhile, behind her, the man she’d brought came to a stop, standing in front of them.

“Chisaki Kai…Overhaul, I believe,” said Izuku, his voice buzzing through his mask’s speakers.  “To what do I owe the honor of one of the old guard wanting to meet with me?”

“I wanted to see for myself the one who supposedly killed All For One,” declared Kai, looking at Izuku with a cold gaze.

“Your message to us indicated that you wanted a good bit more than that,” said Izuku.

“It would seem to me that, given the ruin he made of you fellows, you lot would be busy celebrating All Might’s retirement,” declared Danjuro cheerfully.  “Did you perhaps come to congratulate our leader on his success in putting an end to All Might’s career?”

“Nah,” said Kai dismissively.  “It’s not about All Might.  All For One’s a way bigger deal than that.

“The Demon Lord of the Underworld…that guy was practically an urban legend to my generation.  After All Might supposedly took him down, we’d heard rumors that he might be back.  But then you showed up, declaring that he was dead.  That hero backed up your claim.  So unless he’s gone back to pretending to be dead, and you’re the ones fronting for him, that basically means that both the light and dark sides of the world are leaderless.”

“Given that we took care of the ones that were actually fronting for him, I can assure you that he most certainly is dead,” Izuku replied.

“Then the question is who is going to step up to lead,” declared Kai.

“Very true,” said Izuku.  “I staked my claim.  But that doesn’t make it automatic.  That being the case, I assume that you’re aspiring to claim that throne for yourself.”

“You could say that,” admitted Kai readily enough.  “Just because you say that you killed him doesn’t make it true.”

“You’re not wrong,” Izuku admitted readily enough.  “You only have my and Aizawa’s word that I killed All For One.  And given his penchant for ‘rational deceptions’, it’s not as though Aizawa’s word is all that trustworthy.  Regardless though, I know well enough to know that I have something that you want.”

“I have a plan,” said Kai simply.  “You’ve pulled some impressive tricks, with those little toys of yours.  But they don’t change your inherent limitations.  You’ve taken on a great deal of power, with All For One’s resources…but can you really say that you know how to use them properly?”

Izuku said nothing.  He could feel the anger seeping from his friends, but could see they were keeping it under control.

“You’re a bunch of school kids, playing at being heavy hitters, who won’t accomplish anything in the long run,” said Kai.  “You managed to take down All Might…which just goes to show that he wasn’t as big a deal as everyone thought.”

“Taking down All Might isn’t an accomplishment?” asked Hiroki skeptically.

“We all saw it…that shriveled waste of a form of his,” said Kai.  “That just goes to show that he was making a big show, puffing himself up for the cameras, when, in reality, he was on his last legs.  Like a geriatric with osteoporosis at the top of a flight of stairs, all you did was give him a nudge…and the stairs did the rest.”

“…You’re not wrong,” Izuku admitted again.  “I could argue that that very same geriatric has been at the top of those stairs for quite a while, with plenty of folks giving him nudges the entire time…but that’s just splitting hairs.”

“Aside from that, all you’ve done is work to settle petty grudges with your old school,” said Kai.  “That’s hardly an effective use of the power that’s tumbled into your laps.  So I’ll step in and do you a favor.  I’ll take over managing for you, and I’ll take the lead of the underworld as well.  Unlike you, I have an effective plan, one that requires a great deal of financial backing.  So I’d like you to provide it.”

“I see…” said Izuku.  “And what’s in it for us?  You can talk all about your big plans.  But right now, all you’re talking about is how they benefit you.”

“I’ll show you a new world,” said Kai.  “I’ll show you a world that has been cleansed of that filthy disease called Quirks, cleansed of the disease of heroes and villains…a world where everything has been returned to how it should be.  I’m sure that someone like you would appreciate that…Prometheus.”

A plan to eliminate Quirks… Izuku mused silently.

“So…what do you say?” asked Kai.

The others were bristling again, clearly not liking Kai’s tone.  However, just as Izuku wanted, they were keeping their anger under control.  He could understand.  Kai was talking down about them pretty hard, and about Izuku in particular.  But that was all within expectations.

“We’ll have to get back to you,” said Izuku.  “I may be the leader, but I prefer not to decide such things unilaterally.  We’ll provide you an answer, after we thoroughly understand the costs and benefits of your little proposal.”

“That’s disappointing,” said Kai.  “You’ve gotten lucky, kid.  But luck only takes you so far in this world.  You need to let someone more qualified take the reins.”

“That remains to be seen,” said Izuku.  “But I want to know more first.  That being the case, let’s make arrangements to get in touch at a later date.  I want to know about your little plan in more detail.”

Kai’s eyes narrowed, and Izuku felt a flicker of malice.  Kai had just stopped himself from attacking Izuku on the spot.  The way his body shifted and his hands twitched…were all picked up by the sensors built into Izuku’s helm.  It immediately made notes about Kai’s position and posture, which Izuku correlated with what information Manami had dug up about the man.

He’s prepared to charge straight in, Izuku noted.  The way his posture shifted…it’s not all that different from Shigaraki’s tells.  I wouldn’t be surprised if his is another contact-based Quirk.  He doesn’t seem concerned about defense or evasion…which likely means that his Quirk has the means to mitigate damage as well…interesting…We’ll have to tread carefully with him.

Of course, Izuku had his Eraser Lights, which would shut down Kai’s Quirk before he even had a chance to use it.  But there were far too many unknowns for them to go picking a fight right now.  There were also Kai’s reinforcements waiting outside.  One of them was actually positioned near the upper windows of the warehouse, aiming what looked like a pistol at them, though the scanner linked to the drone’s camera indicated that it was actually an airgun of some kind.

Best not to stir anything up just yet, he decided.

Meanwhile, Kai settled, his animosity fading.  “Fine,” he declared, pulling out a business card.  “Get in touch with me, when you kids are done with your little meeting.  But we’re meeting in the place of my choosing, next time.  Give me a call, when you’re ready.”  He flicked it, allowing it to drift through the air, until it came to rest at Izuku’s feet.

Kai turned and walked out the door, shifting his body in a clear decision to avoid touching it.  As he set off outside, they saw the figures of Kai’s hidden bodyguards take up positions beside and behind him, following in his wake, a silent display of power, claiming that they had been there the whole time, without The Rationals realizing it.  Of course, the display fell flat, considering that Izuku had already been tracking them the whole time.

“You warned us he brought backup,” said Mawata.

“I was sure we weren’t being followed,” said Iori, unnerved.

“It’s likely one of their Quirks,” said Izuku.  “None of them are the overly stealthy type.  But whatever it is, it couldn’t fool mechanical sensors…a perception filter of some kind…Eh, I’ll think it over later.”

He recalled his drone and pulled off his mask.  “Good work, everyone.  Thanks for keeping your cool.”

“We’ve got your back, Boss,” declared Hiroki proudly.

“Let’s take back what we’ve learned,” said Izuku.  “Then we can figure out what to do about it.”

“I can already tell we’re not going to come to any kind of reconciliation,” said Iori, her eyes cold.

“Nope,” agreed Izuku.  “But when we strike…I want to cut them out at the root.  So we gather all the information we can…and we make it count.”

And so concluded their first interaction with the young leader of the Shie Hassaikai…

“On your feet,” Chronostasis growled from behind Izuku.  “Show some respect.”

“I’m not the one who needs to show respect,” said Izuku simply.  “You people are the ones who came to me, not the other way around.”

Chisaki Kai looked at Izuku, a flicker of hostility in his eyes, before he sat down.  “That’s enough, Chrono,” he said simply.

Several other figures filed in through the door.  Izuku took them in at a glance.  There were a pair of impressively hulking specimens, as well as thinner, lighter men…all of them wearing masks of some sort or another.  Six…seven…eight…Including the shateigashira and saiko-komon, that’s all of them.  All of Overhaul’s heavy hitters are here.  I figured he’d bring in at least half of them.  But to get the whole lot will be perfect.

He resisted the urge to break out into a smirk, instead making his lips curve down into a frown.  “Quite the reception,” Izuku noted.

“My apologies for the heavy-handed measures,” said Kai, folding his hands in front of him.  “You were rather…defiant and flippant last time.  I simply wish to make sure that we can conclude our negotiations smoothly.”

“By which you mean you want to strong-arm me into giving you what you want with a show of force,” Izuku said casually.  “Pretty sloppy.  I’d thought the yakuza were supposed to be classier than that.”

“Shut your mouth, brat!” snapped the doll-like figure in the corner.  “Don’t look down on us Yakuza!  We’ve been in the business before you were a gleam in your father’s eye!  A runt like you should be glad to be of service to the Young Master!”

“You can prattle all you like about the yakuza’s honor and prestige,” said Izuku, folding his hands together.  “But all I see are the same two-bit tactics I’d expect from any group of thugs.  If you want this deal to go through, you need to demonstrate how it is going to be of benefit to me and mine.  And no, claiming that I get to live or avoid torture or beatings or whatever other threats you plan to leverage do not count as benefits.”

He could hear growls of frustration and grinding teeth.  Mimic and Chronostasis were particularly furious with him.  The only real exception to that was…

“Ha!” barked the biggest and burliest member of the group that had been identified as Overhaul’s Eight Bullets.  “I like this kid!  It feels like he could go a round or two with me!”

“Quiet, Rappa,” admonished the man beside him, dressed like a monk.

In front of Izuku, Kai sighed, lowering his head.  “I genuinely apologize for my subordinates’ lack of proper decorum,” he said, raising his head.  “However, they are understandably upset that someone like you is daring to claim the kingship of the underworld.”

“‘Like’ me, huh…?” said Izuku.  “Let’s not mince words, Overhaul.  By that, you mean…a Quirkless person, right?”

Kai said nothing, but his eyes narrowed noticeably.

“There’s something that doesn’t add up about this, Chisaki-san,” said Izuku, now breaking out in a smirk.  “What you tried to sell me on last time…this Quirk-destroying drug…you talked a great deal about how it would make everyone equal, about how it would return humans to how they were supposed to be.  You even paid me that lovely compliment by describing me as a ‘paragon’, as one of the ‘un-diseased’.  And yet…in the same breath, you insinuate that same status makes me unfit for my position, that I should submit to you…implying that you are naturally superior to me…not by virtue of history or experience, but by virtue of the fact that, for all your talk about how Quirkless are supposed to embody the way the world is supposed to be…you still look down on people like me all the same.”

“And yet, what I offer is genuine,” said Kai.  “A world where the disease is cured.”

“Save for a select few…I imagine,” said Izuku, canting his head.

“I offer you the opportunity beyond merely settling petty grudges with individuals,” said Kai.  “I offer you the chance to take revenge on the foundation of this world itself.  I offer you the chance to destroy the things that you hate the most!”

“How odd…I don’t recall saying anything about hating Quirks,” said Izuku.

“…Huh?” grunted Kai.

“Personally, I love Quirks,” said Izuku.  “I appreciate them a great deal.  That’s why I’ve made a point of studying them so thoroughly, understanding how they operate, and how their capabilities can be even better utilized.  Quirks fascinate me.  There’s so much to them that fully understanding their nature could completely change our fundamental understanding of the world, maybe even reality itself.

“What I hate…what I want revenge on…is the stagnant, primitive state that society has gotten itself stuck in; the state where Quirks are practically worshiped with a blind reverence, where a person’s entire life trajectory can be decided by a complete accident of birth, where people are held up as inherently better or inferior, simply based on what Quirk they were born with…or being born without one.

“I have no intention of destroying Quirks.”

“Then what is it that you intend to do?” asked Kai.

Izuku’s smirk widened.  “I don’t plan to take my revenge by destroying Quirks…I’m going to trivialize them.  With my technology, I will create the means to make even the most unique and powerful Quirks something that could be utilized by anyone.  That is the promise of technology after all.  Hundreds of years ago, a pair of brothers first truly developed the means to perform powered flight.  Their ‘plane’ was nothing more than a shaky contraption of wood and cloth with an engine stuck in it.  They managed just a few seconds with their first attempt.  But within a few decades, that technology saw explosive development.  Now, we have planes that are capable of traversing the gap between entire continents, crossing oceans, turning journeys that would have taken days or weeks into just a few hours..  Traveling through the sky, a domain once thought to belong solely to the gods, became an everyday occurrence.  And yet, it all started with those few shaky seconds.

“I will take the power that individuals are so proud of, and so firmly believe makes them superior, and make it into something completely mundane, available to everyone.  I’ll develop the means to easily do so, no matter what kind of Quirk it might be, so that, the next time some overgrown brat marches into a junior high with a chip on his shoulder and the belief that the world owes him, simply because he can shoot lasers from his eyes or deadlift a city bus, the response he’ll receive is complete apathy, because someone will be able to do the same thing after a quick trip to the local hardware store.”

Izuku leaned back in his seat, folding his arms.  “And in the process, I’ll guide humanity into a new age.  The promise of this development will lead to untold advancements in, not just technology, but our understanding of physics, biology, and even reality itself.  I will restart the clock that stopped with the Advent of the Exceptional…and show mankind the way into the future.

“I think that vision far surpasses the vision of a bunch of dusty old crooks, who are actively looking to turn the clock back, simply to regain some sense of relevance in this world.”

“YOU FUCKING PUNK!!!” howled Mimic, bouncing towards Izuku.  A muscular arm, far too large to naturally fit in such an object, suddenly jutting out from inside the doll-like figure, holding a gun, which was pressed up against Izuku’s head.  “DON’T YOU LOOK DOWN ON US YAKUZA!!!”

He wasn’t the only one.  Behind him, Chronostasis, and one of the other masked figures, also pointed guns at him.  The others seemed to look on dispassionately or ready themselves for a fight, according to their nature.

“You think that, just ‘cause you lucked into the Demon Lord’s inheritance that you can talk down about us yakuza!?” Mimic continued.  “You’re just a fucking worm with backwards genes, who was given the chance to be part of something great!  But you’re talking like you’re above us, you worthless freak!”

Izuku sighed.  “There’s that attitude again,” he said, shaking his head, unconcerned by the weapons held up to his head.  He raised his right hand in a dismissive gesture.  “Despite all your talk about hating Quirks, and viewing them as a disease, you’re insulting and mocking me for being Quirkless.  I thought my state was an ideal, something for you to aspire to.  And yet, here you are…

“And for all your talk about the pride and dignity of the yakuza, all I see and hear are a bunch of mangy mongrel dogs, scrabbling about desperately for All For One’s scraps.  You all can bark as loudly as you like, but that doesn’t suddenly equate to true pedigree, simply because you have a high opinion of the pack you’ve joined.”

“I’LL KILL YOU!!!” Mimic howled.

“That’s enough, Mimic,” said Kai.  “Control yourself.  This boy is our guest.”  His eyes narrowed.  “You just need to be made to understand your place.”

Izuku chuckled, flexing the fingers of his raised right hand slightly, bending in his pinky-finger.  “My place…?”

“You are more clever than expected,” said Kai, notably not dismissing the men holding guns to Izuku’s head, nor gesturing for the rest to stand down.  “But I offer you the opportunity to be part of something greater here.  You may have access to All For One’s fortune, but you do not have the capacity to make the best possible use of it.”

Izuku sighed.  “And here we go yet again.”  He looked at Kai through narrowed eyes, while curling his ring-finger.  “Ironically, you think that your disease makes you superior to me, despite, again, considering it a disease.  The leper whines bitterly about the disease, yet mocks one who is untainted by it.”

Kai’s hands flexed.  “I do not wish to force this issue,” he said.  “But you have entered into our domain.  Bereft of your technology and your toys, you are nothing but a powerless child.  You believe this to be a negotiation.  But what you have really done is surrender yourself into our custody.  It seems we will have get forceful after all, and see what means can be utilized to make you more…cooperative.”

Izuku’s middle-finger curled next.  “You seem to think you have the capacity to force me to do anything,” he mused idly.

“You have none of your tools or toys,” said Kai.  “You are alone, amongst those with means you lack.  You were the one who foolishly walked into this without a second thought, thinking that you would be able to talk your way out.”

“Talk…?” asked Izuku, folding his index-finger.  “Oh no.  I knew there was going to be no way to talk this out.  You’re a hypocrite, who babbles on about saving the yakuza and restoring their honor, while smearing shit over your faces.  You claim to be upholding the dream of your old head, but you were the one who put him in that coma to begin with.  At the end of the day, you forsook what the yakuza were supposed to stand for, in order to get your way…just like any other villain.”

Kai’s shoulders hunched slightly, and Izuku could sense the hostility rising from the other members in the room.  He marked their positions in his mind’s eye, already plotting his next move.

“You talk so dismissively about my equipment,” Izuku continued.  “You act as though I’m some helpless child without it.  But your attitudes show that, despite your professed disdain for Quirks, you still possess that same, ‘When all you have is a hammer…’ mentality that so many other heroes and villains possess.

“It’s true…I might not be carrying my gear on me.  But I still have this…”  Izuku raised his left hand and tapped his temple with his index-finger.  “And this is worth a hundred, or even a thousand Quirks.  I’m more than the tools that I use.  I’m the mind that made those tools, the mind that understands the principles that make them possible.  I’m the connections I’ve forged and the bonds I’ve created.  Who needs a Quirk, when I have all of that?”

“You are alone…with no one to help you,” said Kai.  “You won’t be thinking yourself out of this.”

“I won’t…” agreed Izuku, before curling his right thumb, making his hand into a loose fist.  “Because I already thought it out a while ago.”

There was a flash of blazing red through the room.  It originated from one of the few unoccupied spaces, issuing from directly behind Overhaul himself, washing outwards and engulfing all of his soldiers in the room.  They were all shocked and stunned.  But Mimic was especially affected, letting out a scream of surprise as he was suddenly evicted from his doll-like hiding place, his heavily-built form suddenly tumbling out into the open.

At the same time, there was something attached to Izuku’s right arm that wasn’t there before.  It looked like some kind of triangular shield.  However, even as the yakuza watched, the “shield” opened up, forming small angular fragments, which practically vanished as they detached and flew throughout the room.

Within seconds, the room was painted with lines and splatters of vivid red.  The Shie Hassaikai’s leadership, including Overhaul’s elite enforcers, the Eight Bullets, along with his second and third-in-command, where left in a state of dismemberment, scattered throughout the room.  Even those with guns hadn’t had a chance to fire them.  In a matter of seconds, what had once been a tense session of the yakuza attempting to intimidate Izuku into submission was now the scene of a massacre.

The only survivor was Overhaul himself.  Kai was where he’d been a second before, caught mid-lung, hands reaching across the table for Izuku…except that his hands were no longer there, having been severed, along with his arms, just above the elbows.  Blood now spurted freely from the stumps, but splattered across some kind of shimmering shield that Izuku had produced between them.

“And that’s game,” said Izuku.

Kai slumped back into his seat, blood still flowing freely, mask tumbling from his face.

“Ah, can’t have you bleeding out just yet,” said Izuku, moving around the table, and producing two bands.  A simple swing caused them to each wrap around one of Kai’s arms, like those slap-on bracelets, except these ones tightened to serve as tourniquets, reducing the bleeding down to a trickle.

“Impossible…!” Kai wheezed, staring up at Izuku in shock and horror, as his mask fell askew.

“Remember…”  Izuku reached up and tapped his temple again.  “This is the most powerful weapon that I…that any of us have.  It’s all about making the most of what you have, and what the people around you are capable of.  For all that you ranted about Quirks being a disease, you were still counting on yours at the end.”

“How?” demanded Kai.

“Ah, let me introduce you to our newest member,” said Izuku, gesturing to the beacon of red light that had flared up from behind Kai.

The red light died away, leaving a young woman standing in place.  She was a beautiful sight, sporting long, wavy hair that tumbled down past her shoulders; primarily chartreuse-green, but also shimmering with streaks and ripples of blue, pink, and yellow, which danced across its length in iridescent shimmers, changing with each small movement of her head, creating a haunting display.  Her eyes were similarly colorful, sporting rings of green, blue, pink, and yellow, which shifted and changed with each twitch and blink.  Aside from that, her face sported rounded cheeks and prominent eye-lashes, giving her a soft, inviting appearance.  The pastel blue and pink of her body-suit did virtually nothing to hide her appealing figure.  All told, Hagakure Toru was someone that men and women alike were likely to fall for on-sight.

“This is Theia, our own goddess of light,” said Izuku with a smirk.  “Thanks to her, I don’t need to bring an Eraser Light, since she can become one at will.”

Toru had followed Izuku into the Shie Hassaikai’s compound, mere paces behind him, always careful with her placement and steps, not making a single sound; flawless stealth.  The entire time that Chronostasis and the rest of Kai’s underlings had been searching Izuku, Toru had been just a meter or so away, keeping his actual weapon concealed.  Then, once he had made his gesture with his right hand, Toru had taken the presented opportunity, and slipped his weapon onto his arm, while still keeping it invisible, before taking her position behind Kai.

Izuku’s weapon was essentially a more-compact version of the array that covered his shoulder, as part of his main costume.  It mounted his remote-controlled feather-drones, which could be deployed with lethal speed and precision.  It was actually this version of his tech that he had utilized during the League’s forest attack, which had helped him bring down Aizawa…not that that was particularly relevant here.

When it came to Toru’s part in the plan, the greatest threat had been Mimic.  Izuku had reasoned that, so long as he remained within the confines of whatever object he was inhabiting, Mimic was untouchable to Erasure’s emissions.  The rest of the Eight Bullets, along with Chronostasis, had all at least had some kind of place in their outfits sporting exposed skin.  Chronostasis and the one known as Nemoto were the ones with the most-comprehensive covering, but even they had left their hands and arms uncovered…for some reason, which had ensured they would be affected by the light Toru gave off.

Fortunately, during his last visit, Izuku had gotten a front-row seat to how fervently Irinaka Joi embraced his pride as a yakuza, and their desire to regain their prominence in the underworld.  It was child’s play to provoke the man into ultimately threatening Izuku, exposing a portion of his real body in the process, and rendering him vulnerable.

Glancing up at Toru’s face, Izuku could see her mouth pressed into a thin line.  He decided to not keep too much attention on her, given how much effort she was putting into preserving her composure.  Instead, he retrieved his drones, which attached themselves to the buckler-like shield he was carrying.  Reaching over to his left arm, where his watch was waiting, Izuku tapped the face a few times, and a small tone sounded.

“But…security…” grunted Kai, staring at Izuku with shock.

“Please,” scoffed Izuku, “as if I couldn’t build my tech to fool those bargain basement scanners your people bought with the last dregs of funding leftover from whatever you hadn’t already funneled into your little…experiment.”

He chuckled as he thought back to his previous visit to this place…

The hallways smelled heavily of disinfectant.  Despite being an underground yakuza lair, the atmosphere reminded Izuku more of a hospital wing…quiet and sterile.

Upon arriving at Overhaul’s office, Izuku took his seat, waiting patiently for his host to arrive.  The white-garbed and masked man, who’d, rather reluctantly, introduced himself as Chronostasis, took up a position behind Izuku.  Aside from that, there was a strange, doll-like figure seated off to one side of the room.  However, as Izuku had entered, the doll’s head turned towards him, and Izuku could see eyes appear in the sockets of its beaked face, staring at him intently.

Izuku pretended to ignore it, instead settling into the seat, leaning back, and crossing his right leg over his left.  In a sense, he should have felt completely naked, having been divested of all his gear, and even his phone, upon entering the compound through one of its concealed entrances.  Still, Izuku carried himself constantly.  Right now, this wasn’t a full operation.  It was merely recon.

“I see you came,” said Kai, entering the room as well.

“Get on your feet,” Chronostasis barked from behind Izuku.

“No thanks,” Izuku replied, glancing over his shoulder at the white-garbed man.  “My legs are tired, given that you all led me around and around, before actually bringing me here.  I’m not here to pledge fealty to your boss.  I’m here for negotiations.”

“Shut up, you filthy runt!” snapped the doll in the corner, with a voice far deeper and more masculine than such a small object should have contained.  He bounced over, landing on the edge of the table between Izuku and Kai.  “You’ve got a lot of nerve, claiming that you have any right to negotiate with us!  You should be grateful you get to help us with our young leader’s grand ambition!”

“Yeah yeah,” Izuku replied, waving a dismissive hand at him.  “Whatever floats your boat…Who are you anyway?”

“Irinaka Joi, going by the alias, Mimic,” said Kai.  “He’s our saiko-komon.”

“That makes sense,” said Izuku.  “You’d want him on hand, when monetary matters are being discussed.  Seems a bit unstable though.  You trust someone like that with your books?”

“You little freak…!” growled Mimic, his diminutive body trembling.

Izuku examined it more closely, taking in its movements.  That’s not an organic body.  No…it’s an inanimate object…His Quirk must allow him to inhabit it.  Or is he controlling it remotely?  Depending on how it works, he could be a serious threat.

“Mimic sometimes lets his enthusiasm get the better of him,” said Kai.

“He needs to learn how to rein in his temper,” Izuku replied.  He looked Mimic in his “eyes”.  “You keep flying off the handle like that, and people are going to start questioning your organization’s class.”

“YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!!!” Mimic roared.

His head tilted back and a rather large and heavily muscular arm, one that was longer than the doll was tall, extended out, seizing Izuku by the collar of his shirt.

So he is inside the doll, Izuku determined, keeping himself from grinning at the discovery.

“Mimic,” Kai said in a simple, calm tone.  “Release him…now.”

There was an angry growl from within the doll, before the beefy hand relinquished its hold on Izuku, and drew back inside.

“Anyway…where were we…?”  Izuku returned his attention to Kai.  “Oh…right…negotiations…If we’re going to have any kind of proper deal, I want to know more about this ‘plan’ of yours.  A few vague promises and grandiose speeches do not a plan make.  You spoke of a world without Quirks.  I want to know how you plan to achieve that.”

“You think you have any right to make demands of us?” asked Chronostasis angrily.

“I think I have every right,” Izuku replied.  “You lot are the ones who came to us.  If we’re going to be putting our hard-earned resources behind this operation.  We need to know what exactly it is we’re funding.  Transparency is the key to a proper working relationship after all.  Show me this isn’t isn’t just some cheap marketing scam meant to siphon off our money.”

“You have no right to question us!” snarled Mimic.

Izuku ignored him, instead keeping his gaze firmly fixated on Kai, who stared back.

Finally…

“Very well,” said Kai, getting to his feet.  “Let’s go.”

Izuku got up and followed him.  Chronostasis brought up the rear, with Mimic riding on his shoulder.  Their walk took them through another sequence of tunnels, often seeming to take completely pointless turns and detours.  At one point, Izuku was fairly sure that they had actually looped around and doubled back through a particular intersection, crossing through a point they’d passed through before.

As they walked, Kai began to speak.  “Have you heard a particular theory about the origin of Quirks?” he asked.

He thinks of Quirks as a disease, Izuku recalled.  “You’re talking about the one where Quirks might have originated from a virus, carried by rats?”

“The very same,” said Kai.  “For a long time, I’ve believed that this world…is fundamentally sick.  It isn’t just Quirks…Heroes…Villains…All of it…It’s all so nonsensical.  Grown adults, putting on costumes, playing an amped up game of cops and robbers…eroding institutions that have stood strong since ancient times…the values and understandings that carried us as a society falling to the wayside.

“And all of it is just a symptom of the disease that we call Quirks.”

“Interesting…” said Izuku.  “So…if Quirks originated from an infection…does that make them an immune response?”

Kai glanced at Izuku over his shoulder.

“And if that’s the case,” continued Izuku, “a Quirkless person like me must be immunocompromised…or perhaps I’m an asymptomatic carrier instead.”

“…Perhaps,” agreed Kai.  “However, the key to overturning this society lies in controlling the power of Quirks.  That means having the means to eliminate them.”

“You want to create a weapon to destroy Quirks?” asked Izuku.

“Beyond that…you could say that I already have,” replied Kai.  “The initial products are making the rounds, and going through trials.”

“You’re selling them to various gangs, and using that as a testing ground,” Izuku guessed.

“Precisely,” agreed Kai.  “The product’s appeal also means that it serves as a source of additional funding for us, besides the Trigger trade.

“Much as you and your clients discovered, when your Eraser Lights hit the market, most heroes tend not to last long, when their Quirks are no longer functional.  But both the current iteration of my product, and your toys, have a similar limitation.  They just don’t last very long.  The effect of your lights ends, as soon as your target is no longer illuminated by it.  Our current iteration of the deleter rounds last only a few hours, before the affected recovers.”

“So you’re looking to stabilize it…make it permanent,” said Izuku.  “That would make it a true Quirk destroyer.”

“Correct,” said Kai.  “Actually…we’ve already reached the point of being able to create rounds with a permanent effect.  The issue lies in the production.  Until the process is fully streamlined, the cost is exorbitant.”

They arrived at a door, and Kai pushed it open.  Izuku followed him in.

The room sported a lab setup, centered around a single chair.  Strapped into the chair was a little girl.  Her silvery hair was messy and tangled, running almost all the way down to her waist.  Her ruby-red eyes quivered and quavered, fixating on Kai, as soon as he entered the room.  Her most prominent feature was the slightly-curved horn that extended from the right side of her forehead, sporting a light curve and a spiral groove running up its length.  Izuku’s eyes widened as soon as he saw her.  Behind the chair were tanks filled with large quantities of red fluid…Izuku not needing to guess what said fluid was.

They’re extracting blood from her, he realized.  But that’s far more blood than her body can hold.  So then…

“Our guest is here to see the process,” said Kai.

“Who is this?” asked Izuku.

“This is Eri,” replied Kai.  “She is the cornerstone of my plan.  She’s nothing more than a child.  But her Quirk is unique…one with the potential to truly change everything.”  He looked to another member of the group, manning a console behind the chair.  “Begin the extraction.”

Izuku noted that, in addition to being strapped down, the girl was gagged.  The reason became apparent when, as soon as the machines connected to the myriad tubes and pipes linked to the chair hummed to life, blood and other fluids began to flow through those tubes, some flowing out, others flowing in, while the girl’s body spasmed, her eyes rolling wildly.  The gag muffled the screams that tried to tear their way out of her mouth.  She was clearly in excruciating pain, forced to endure the feeling of her very lifeblood being siphoned away by the machines.

Izuku’s jaw clenched so hard, it was a miracle he hadn’t ground his teeth down to nubs.  His hands clenched so tightly, his fingernails began to break through the skin of his palms.  Every ounce of his being burned with the desire, the compulsion, to rush in and pull that girl away from those ghastly machines.

But he couldn’t…not with Overhaul and his goons deployed all around him.  One false move, and Izuku would only wind up getting himself killed.  And then there would be no one to help Eri.

Eri’s spasms and muffled screams grew in intensity.  The heart monitor linked up to her beeped wildly as her fear and pain reached a thundering crescendo.  Then, with a final jolt…her body threw itself against her bindings…before falling limp.  She slumped down in her seat, eyes staring blankly forward, unseeing…the life completely gone from them.

“A paltry result,” said Kai, striding forward and holding out his hand.  He touched it to Eri’s face, and…

Eri’s body suddenly seemed to explode into a red mist, before instantly reassembling.  A second later, she sat in the chair, her eyes alight with new life, darting about fearfully, her body trembling and quaking, her breathing coming in heaving, panicked breaths, all the worse for the fact that she could only inhale through her nose.

From the angle he was standing at, Izuku was able to see Kai’s eyes.  Looking into them…Izuku saw them crinkling slightly as he stared at the helpless girl he had just ruthlessly victimized.  It was a gaze Izuku was intimately familiar with.

He’d seen those eyes on Katsuki, on Aizawa, on so many of his past bullies, on the teachers who had shamed and belittled him for his Quirklessness.  They were the eyes of someone taking genuine delight in the suffering of another…a specific, targeted malice, which only emerged when a tormentor’s chosen victim lay helpless before them.  Izuku was self-aware enough to think he’d probably had those same eyes himself…when he had been standing over Aizawa in All For One’s warehouse.  Those eyes told a clear story.

There was more to this than ruthless pragmatism, necessary actions undertaken to achieve a specific end.  Kai took a sick joy in this work.  He enjoyed watching Eri’s suffering in particular.  He wasn’t just using her…he wanted it to hurt.

“As you can see, the extraction process only provides a limited amount of material.  Afterwards, I have to reset her and begin again.”  Kai nodded towards the operator at the console, who started the machine again.

The whole process repeated itself again, Eri writhing and screaming, while Kai looked on.  Izuku fought as hard as he could to keep himself under control.  Instead, he forced himself to clinically note the nature of the apparatus.  Not every tube was taking material out.  Others were bringing material in…some kind of fluid.

Raw material, Izuku guessed, his gaze going back to Kai, watching as, after Eri collapsed and went still again, he reached out and…reset her.  His Quirk allows him to alter matter, both living and nonliving.  Destruction and reconstruction.  He’s pumping in some kind of substance that he then converts to replace the biological mass his machine is siphoning away.  So it’s not a Quirk that can create something out of nothing.

That gave him a great deal of information.  However, aside from that, the one thing that Izuku also noted was that Kai seemed to use his Quirk through his hands.  If I can eliminate those…However…Can he use his Quirk on himself?

That was an important question to answer, before proceeding.  Izuku knew he would have to observe carefully, and work out the particulars of Kai’s Quirk.  After all, he knew what he needed to do now.

It had been obvious from the beginning that there wasn’t any real hope of a cooperative relationship between The Rationals and the Shie Hassaikai.  The yakuza clearly had no intention of being anything but in charge.  They would force Izuku and his group into a subordinate position, and lay claim to everything.  Still, Izuku had been uncertain of just how to deal with them…until now.

But now, watching as Kai unmade Eri again, and put her back together, Izuku made a single promise.  You…are a dead man.

There was no going back now.  There was no negotiating.  There was no ambiguity.  They would wipe out the Shie Hassaikai in its entirety, and rescue this little girl from them.  All this, Izuku resolved in that moment.

But not yet.

As much as he wanted to act, as desperately as he wanted to slaughter everyone currently in the room and pull Eri off that machine, he knew he couldn’t act now.  He had disarmed himself, treating this visit as a recon run…which it was.  As much as he hated the very idea of leaving, after watching this happen, Izuku knew that he needed to fall back, and come up with a plan.  Eri needed him, and he couldn’t afford to fail her.

So he kept it all inside, the utter loathing, he now felt for Kai and his grand ambitions.  Fortunately, Izuku had plenty of practice in that.  Back in junior high, and elementary before that, whenever Katsuki or someone else had attacked and beaten him, he had ultimately learned to keep his anger on the inside, knowing that that would only just drive them to greater levels of violence.

He also had practice, when dealing with his teachers, who would scold and berate him for the things that others did.  Whenever Katsuki’s antics resulted in the destruction of school property, it was Izuku who was punished for it.  And he couldn’t protest, could’t fight back…because that would just make it worse.  Truth didn’t matter.  They had already condemned him in their minds.  Any show of anger at the injustice being heaped on him would only make them double down.

Thanks to that, Izuku’s mask was firmly in place, not betraying an iota of the rage and hatred he felt.  Instead, he kept calm by continuing to note everything he could, about the procedure, about Eri…

One thing he noticed was her horn.  After each restoration, Eri’s horn got shorter, gradually losing its curve.  By the very final time Kai restored her, Eri’s horn had been reduced to little more than a tiny nub.  Once it reached that point, Kai nodded to himself.

“She’s done for the day,” he declared.

The man running the console set about to unbuckling Eri from the chair, removing the tubes connected to her.  Eri let out small choked sobs through her gag.

“Get her back to her room,” said Kai dismissively.

“Yes, Overhaul,” replied the underling, pulling the gag out of Eri’s mouth.  “Come on, brat.  And keep your mouth shut!”

With that angry utterance, Eri clamped her mouth shut as tightly as she could.  The man roughly grabbed her wrist and towed her out of the room.  As he did, Izuku caught her eye.  There was only so much he could do with a single look, but Izuku tried to convey his desire to help her as clearly as he possibly could.  All too soon, the moment passed, and Izuku watched them go out of the corner of his eye, fighting to keep his mask in place, fighting the urge to lunge out and wrap his fingers around Kai’s throat on the spot.  Instead, he settled into a silent resolve.  Your time will come, he thought, looking back to Kai.

“As you can see, the process is inefficient,” said Kai.  “It will require substantial funds to streamline the whole affair, so that we can produce the serum in a consistent manner.  Once we do, we will turn the tables on the heroes.

“Without their Quirks, the heroes are less than useless, and we will be able to leverage that to our advantage.  With the disease finally being managed, the yakuza will be able to rise once again.”  Kai turned and fixated his eyes on Izuku.  “I am giving you the honor of helping to facilitate this.  You have every right to be grateful.”

“I’m sure I do,” Izuku said skeptically.  “But we’ll have to see if you can really put that backing to proper use.”

Kai and his two lieutenants growled and bristled, clearly not happy that Izuku hadn’t automatically acquiesced to Kai’s overtures.

Get used to disappointment, Izuku thought.  He would use the remainder of this visit to gather all the information he could.  He was already at work though.  The first stage of information gathering was complete.  Izuku would watch and learn…and he would prime Kai and his allies with his behavior.

It’s not just Overhaul, and these two chuckleheads, Izuku thought, looking at Chronostasis and Mimic.  There were others…like the ones who had accompanied Kai to the meeting the other day.  He remembered seeng Chronostasis and Mimic, and the rest were likely members of Overhaul’s “Eight Bullets”, who were supposed to be Kai’s most dangerous enforcers.  If Izuku didn’t account for them, any plan he came up with would be dead in the water.

The next time Izuku came though…he resolved to be prepared.

It had all been readily clear to him, when Izuku had come last time for their first round of “negotiations”.  Besides Kai gladly explaining his grandiose plans and proudly showing Izuku the means he was going to use to accomplish them, he had also unwittingly displayed his mindset, and the limitations both he and the Shie Hassaikai were dealing with, when it came to realizing their little ideal.

Kai’s research into his Quirk-erasing bullets was an extraordinarily expensive process, one that had eaten into the Shie Hassaikai’s funding at an alarming rate.  Even increasing their distribution of Trigger and turning the incomplete version of his Quirk-erasing serum into a product had only done so much to stem the financial hemorrhaging.  To compensate, Kai and his underlings had skimped in other areas, such as the scanners they had used to investigate Izuku, when he’d first arrived.  Perhaps a better scanner could have picked up on the presence of the transmitter concealed in Izuku’s watch.  But that had clearly been too much for the Shie Hassaikai’s remaining budget, Kai’s obsession and desire to see results as quickly as possible overcoming his awareness of the holes in their security.

“You showed me everything, last time,” said Izuku, as a black portal appeared in the air behind where he’d been sitting before.  “You let me into your midst, and allowed me to see everything I needed to know in order to plan your downfall.  You thought that, because I didn’t have a Quirk, if you could just keep me from accessing and using my tech, you could control me.  But you failed on that front as well.  A pathetic hypocrite to the very end.”

Several people emerged from the portal, Mawata at the lead.  With her were Toshiro and Danjuro.  They were accompanied by Manami, along with a strike team of The Rationals’ elite combatants.

Izuku turned away from Kai to address the group, who were carefully stepping around the bodies of Izuku’s victims, while the portal coalesced, forming into the mist-clad form of Kurogiri, hovering at the very back of the room.  “The leadership and most dangerous members of the Shie Hassaikai have already been neutralized.  The remainder are leaderless, and only a small number of them are actually loyal to Overhaul.  If they can be made to stand down, there’s no need to kill or inflict severe injuries.  But keep your guard up regardless.  Also, some of the Hassaikai are likely armed with firearms, and there is a good chance that these may be carrying his new Quirk-erasing bullets.  Make sure you have your anti-ballistic measures ready at all times.”

The members of the strike teams nodded solemnly.

“Team One, under Striker, will search for Eri.  Her safety is your top priority.  Make sure you protect her, come Hell or high water.  If she gets so much as a scratch, I will find out who’s responsible, and that person will have litter box duty for the next month.”

Izuku saw several throats bob nervously, followed by solemn nods.

“Don’t try to retrieve her yourselves, let me get there first.  We met last time, so I can hopefully make use of that connection to make sure she isn’t too frightened by all of this.

“Team Two, under Gentle Criminal, your job is to escort La Brava and locate Overhaul’s lab.  Once there, secure his data, along with any samples he might have produced.  Once you’ve fully ascertained the best way to do so, destroy everything that remains.”

Kai grunted, his eyes widening with horror.  The members of the strike team nodded in acknowledgment of Izuku’s orders, and filed out of the room, leaving Izuku, Mawata, and Toru behind with Kai.

Izuku turned back to Kai, as Mawata handed him what looked like a gray block of clay.  Izuku made sure to position Kai’s legs together, before pressing the block against his ankles.  It seemed to soften and flow around Kai’s legs, binding them together, before hardening.  Kai felt the weight, feeling as though his legs were encased in cement.

“You, I have the ideal punishment for,” Izuku told him, standing back.  “As recompense to the absolute Hell you put that little girl through, I’m going to make your end something truly horrific.”

Kai grit his teeth, forcing his way through the pain and shock at the realization that everything he had worked for was being dismantled in front of his eyes.  He mustered every ounce of defiance that he could bring to bear.  “What could a child like you possibly do to me?”

Izuku smirked, sending a chill down Kai’s spine.  “It’s rather simple really.  I investigated the local sewage-treatment facility, before coming here.  And wouldn’t you know it…their main holding tank is nice and full.”

“No…!” Kai whispered, his eyes going wide with horror.

Izuku’s smirk became a vicious grin.  It was all perfectly apparent, from the moment they’d had their initial meeting with Kai to his first visit to the compound.  Izuku had seen everything; the obsession with cleanliness to the point of sterility, even outside the confines of his lab; Kai’s aversion to physical contact, to the point that he broke out into hives, and subsequently murdered one of his underlings, who’d made the mistake of brushing against him; to his constant references to filth and contamination.  Chisaki Kai was a massive germaphobe…and Izuku had made sure that he’d prepared an appropriately filthy death for someone like that.

“Yes,” Izuku replied.  “For everything you did to that girl, I’m dumping you in…and you’ll spend the final minutes of your pathetic life…literally drowning in shit.”  Izuku glanced behind him.  “Kurogiri…”

“As you wish, Izuku-sama,” the nomu said flatly.

“No!”  Kai began to struggle, trying to escape.  However, the cement block that had been molded around his feet kept him from getting anywhere, as Kurogiri’s mist crept closer.  “You can’t do this!  I can’t die!  I can’t die like this!  I have to rebuild us!  I have to pay him back!”

“You sealed your fate, the very first time you used your Quirk on that girl,” said Izuku.  “You treated her as a tool-No!-a resource to be mined.  Now it’s time to suffer the consequences.”

“I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN CURE THIS DISEASED WORLD!!!” Kai roared.

“No…” Izuku replied, as Kurogiri’s mist curled around Kai’s body.  “You are the disease.  And this is my cure for you.  Goodbye.”

The mist swallowed Kai’s body.  He let out a wordless scream that was followed, and cut off by, a sick-sounding plop, before Kurogiri’s mist dissipated, leaving nothing but the bloodstains from Kai’s injuries.

Izuku breathed out.  “Well…now that that’s taken care of…”  He looked to Toru, seeing a faint tremor in her body, her face flickering with unpleasant shades of green and yellow, her throat bobbing.

Izuku turned to Mawata, their eyes meeting.  The pair exchanged a nod.  Then Izuku turned to Kurogiri.  “A portal over one of our toilets, please.”  He gestured to the space in front of Toru.

“As you wish, Izuku-sama,” said Kurogiri, producing more mist, which streamed over, forming a swirling circle in front of Toru, while Izuku and Mawata moved to either side of her.

“It’s okay, Hagakure-san,” Izuku told her, resting a gentle hand between Toru’s shoulders.

Toru looked to Mawata, who pulled down her mask to smile at her, then nod.  Toru shuddered, then spasmed, lurching forward.  Mawata quickly moved to steady her as Toru retched, then vomited.  Izuku moved his hand up to Toru’s hair, lifting it up and away from her face as she unloaded the contents of her stomach into the portal that Kurogiri had created, which would deposit her vomit into one of their toilets, back at the base.

Toru continued to heave and retch, while Mawata held her steady with one hand, and gently rubbed her back with the other.  Meanwhile, Izuku made sure her hair was clear.  Finally, the spasms passed.  Toru made a few more gagging noises, before she managed to regain herself.

“Yeah…I was worried it was going to be intense for you,” Izuku said softly, producing a handkerchief, which Toru gladly took, wiping at her lips.

“Y-Y-You…You warned me,” Toru stammered, shaking.

“I did,” Izuku agreed.  “But me saying that doesn’t come close to the realization of experiencing it for real…does it?”

Toru shook her head slowly and reluctantly.

Mawata wrapped her up in a hug.  “It’s okay, Toru-chan,” she assured her friend.  “This is normal.”

“…I don’t know how to feel about that,” said Toru.

“Well…we can process that later,” said Izuku.  “In any case, your part in this is complete, so I’m sending you back home.”

Toru flashed him a confused and worried look.

“You’re not being punished,” Izuku said.  “You did your part perfectly.  This went off without a hitch, because of you.  But your part in this is done, so there’s no need to stick around.  I’ll have Kurogiri send you back.  Wash your mouth, take a bath, try and eat something…we have a stock of your caramels in the kitchen.  Just relax and rest.  You did great.”

Toru gave Izuku a wobbly smile.

Izuku reached out and gently patted her shoulder.  “We’ll talk about this later,” he said.  “And we’ll try to figure out what works best for you.  You have nothing to be afraid or ashamed of.”

“Okay…” said Toru.

Izuku might have been inclined to have that discussion as soon as possible.  But the rest of the mission was still progressing; not to mention that having a discussion about how Toru felt about people being killed wasn’t the kind of discussion to be had in the midst of all the corpses she’d had a hand in, however indirectly, producing.

“I’ll go with her,” said Mawata, giving Izuku a nod.

Izuku nodded back.  “Hold down the fort.”  He turned to Kurogiri.  “Portal home, please.”

“Yes, Izuku-sama,” said Kurogiri.

Black mist streamed off his arm, spiraling to form a black portal, which Mawata and Toru headed through, before it dissipated.

After that, Kurogiri held out his arms.  “The rest of your kit, Izuku-sama.”

“Thank you, Kurogiri,” said Izuku, taking a visor that curved in front of his eyes and was mounted on pieces that went over his ears, along with a gauntlet that he put over his left hand and arm, which shifted, clicking, to make room for his watch, the components joining together.  Finally, his sword-belt, which he strapped around his waist, buckling with a click.  “Now…how about-?”

Before he could even finish his question to himself, Izuku’s watch beeped.  Holding it up in front of him, it produced a holographic image, showing Toshiro’s face.  “Hey, Boss,” said Toshiro.  “Striker reporting…we’ve located Eri.  We’ve got the scene locked down, and she’s waiting for you.”

“That was quick,” Izuku mused.  Just like I thought.  Overhaul can probably change around the connecting hallways at will.  But the trip always took so long because my ‘guides’ were deliberately leading me on roundabout routes to try and confuse me.  “I’m on my way.”

Izuku set out down the hallway, walking at a brisk clip.  As he walked, he saw several prone forms.  Some of them were unconscious and/or restrained.  Others were lying still amidst splatters and pools of blood.  It seemed that, depending on their degree of loyalty to Chisaki, they either submitted or fought to the bitter end.  As Izuku walked, his watch beeped again.

“Greetings, Esteemed Leader!” proclaimed a familiar, bombastic voice, accompanied by a roguish visage on the screen.  “It is I…Gentle Criminal!”

“What have you got for me, Gentle?” asked Izuku, lips quirking in amusement at Danjuro’s showmanship.

“We have located the lab,” declared Danjuro proudly.  “The lovely La Brava is hard at work, mining Overhaul’s secrets, even as we speak!”

He was nudged slightly to the side, and Iori forced her way into the frame.  “We’ve secured just about everything that Overhaul has produced.  Besides, the temporary versions, it looks like he managed to create a small number of bullets that can erase Quirks permanently.”

“How many?” asked Izuku.

“Six,” Iori replied.  “Apparently, it takes over a month, and several ‘sessions’ with Eri-chan…just to produce one of them.”

Danjuro was trying to sidle his way back into the center of the frame, but was bumped back with a yelp, when Manami suddenly inserted herself.  “I’ve got the data!” she declared.  “What’s with these supposedly genius villains, who don’t know the first thing about proper encryption?  The only smart decision Overhaul made was making sure that he kept the computers containing his data offline.”

“Does that mean that’s the only repository of data he has?” asked Izuku.

“That’s right,” said Manami.  “There’s no record of it being copied or offloaded.  Everything is here…and nowhere else.”

“Good,” said Izuku.  “Do what you usually do.  Wipe the files, then physically destroy the hard drives.  Trash the equipment.  Make sure that nothing can be put back together to give anyone who investigates later a hint of what they were doing here, and how they were doing it.”

“““Yes, Boss!””” all three voices sounded through the screen, making Izuku chuckle.

The screen cut out.  Izuku continued walking.

“FOR THE YOUNG HEAD!!!” screamed a shrill voice.  Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku saw someone come lunging out of an intersecting corridor, holding a knife.  He barely got within a meter, before his legs were cut by Izuku’s feather-drones.  As he dropped his face landed directly in the outstretched palm of Izuku’s left hand, with Izuku triggering the emitters to unleash an explosion on the hapless yakuza’s face.  The man was blown backwards, trailing blood and smoke, collapsing to the floor, unmoving.

Looks like there are a few stragglers, Izuku mused, continuing on.  We’ll have to keep our guard up, until we make it home.

Turning a corner, he saw an especially large number of downed yakuza, most of them seemingly dead, most of them wearing masks.  It seemed that the highest concentration of Kai’s loyalists had been around Eri, just like Izuku had expected.  He stepped over their bodies easily, finding the first team arrayed around a door, facing outwards.  Only Toshiro remained in the door himself, glancing inward at the person within.

“Good of ya to make it, Boss,” said Toshiro with a grin.

“Thanks for holding down the fort,” said Izuku.

“I heard something from down the hallway.”

“Straggler.  There might be more of them, so keep your guards up.”

“You got it, Boss.”

Izuku turned and stepped through the door…and found himself in something that was almost a parody of a child’s bedroom.

There were piles of toys and stuffed animals up against the walls.  However, a single glance indicated that very few of the toys were used, if they were used at all.  Many had never been removed from their boxes.  The stuffed animals were likewise seemingly untouched, with no concern being made for the fact that many of them lay on the floor of bare concrete.  The only real piece of furniture in the room was a single small bed, and the toys and plushes had been cleared back, leaving a wide swath of empty space between the bed and the walls.

There was literally nothing else…no decorations, not a closet, not even a bathroom.  Eri likely couldn’t even use the toilet without being monitored, and it seemed unlikely she had anything more than the faded, white hospital gown she was currently decked out in.  There was nothing to make this room a true home for her, nothing to make it her own.  It was merely a place where she resided, when she wasn’t being used by Overhaul.  She didn’t have a closet because, in a sense, this room was a closet…and she was being stored away here.  The toys and plushes weren’t truly hers…merely tokens that were given to her as a means of ensuring good behavior, with the fact that she showed no apparent interest in them indicating she understood that much herself.

She’s lived like this for over two years, Izuku thought, recalling Kai’s explanation from his previous visit.

As he stepped into the room, Izuku saw her, resting on the bed.  She was curled up against the wall, where the top of the bed rested, hugging a pillow to herself, almost like she was trying to keep it as a shield between her and the strangers who had appeared out of nowhere, amid a cacophony of combat.  Her eyes quavered as she saw Izuku enter the room.

Doubtless this whole experience was frightening to her.  Given the number of bodies outside, it was doubtful that the strike team’s securing of the room had been a quiet affair, and Eri would have had to listen to all of that from her current position on the bed.  After that, a bunch of strangers had forced open the door to her room, leaving her wondering just what was about to happen.

Izuku took one look at her, then himself.  He removed his feather-shield and explosion gauntlet, handing them over to Toshiro, who took them without complaint.  Finally, Izuku removed his visor, setting it aside, so that he could look Eri in the eyes directly.  As he did, her eyes widened in recognition.

“Hi, Eri-chan,” said Izuku softly, taking careful steps closer.  “Remember me?”

Eri stared at him, swallowing.  She slowly nodded.

“We’re here to save you,” Izuku said, taking another step closer.

“S-S-Save m-m-m-me…?” Eri stammered, barely able to form the words.

Izuku nodded.  “It’s all over, Eri-chan.  Overhaul and his people…the ones that hurt you…they’re gone.  And they’re never coming back.”

“Th-They are…?” Eri asked, her gaze nervous and disbelieving.

Izuku nodded slowly.  “We’re going to take you away from this place,” he said.  “You’ll be with people who actually care about you.  No more experiments, no more breaking you and putting you back together.”

“No more…” Eri said, her voice a breathless whisper.  “Is…Is it true?”

“It is,” Izuku assured her, taking one more step, bringing him to the bottom edge of her bed.  He crouched down, and held his hand out across the bed to her.  “Everything’s going to be okay, now, Eri-chan.  We’re here for you.”

Eri opened her mouth, a hiccuping sound forcing its way up her throat.  Her hands were practically blurs, reflexively clamping over her mouth tightly, sealing it shut, even as her eyes started to overflow with tears.

“Eri-chan…?” Izuku asked, worried.

“I-…I’m gonna…”  Eri let out a hiccuping sound again.  “I can’t be bad!  I won’t be loud!  I-!”

Eri stopped as Izuku held up a finger.  “Eri-chan…” he said, keeping his voice soft and calm.  “Do you need to cry?”

“I’m sorry,” said Eri.  “I’ll be good!”

Outside, Izuku could practically hear his comrades’ teeth grinding and their hands clenching.  The implications were obvious.  Eri was doing her utmost to keep from crying because, whenever she did, she was punished for it…and probably severely at that.  Overhaul and his goons had clearly operated according to the “children are meant to be seen, not heard” train of logic…with the added attribute that Eri wasn’t meant to be seen most of the time either.  There wasn’t really a practical reason for it.  This far down underground, there was little to no risk of someone unrelated to the Shie Hassaikai hearing her.  Her room was far enough from the main workplaces of the compound that she wouldn’t distract anyone there.

No, it was simply a matter of convenience.  They had found her crying annoying.  Worse, it was a reminder that they had a human child locked up, and were treating her like a pile of material, taking parts of her body, piece by piece.  Overhaul used his Quirk to literally rip her apart on a regular basis, before putting her back to together.  That was practically repeatedly killing and resuscitating her.  They didn’t want her to remind them that she was human, that she had feelings.  They just wanted her to be a piece of meat to be dissected.

“Eri-chan…” Izuku said again, a firmer tone in his voice.  “…remember…Overhaul isn’t here anymore.  None of them are.  They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Eri gasped softly.

“You can cry now,” Izuku said.  “You can cry as loud as you want.  Cry, wail…scream, if that’s what helps you feel better.  No one is going to punish you for it anymore.”

“I…I…” Eri stammered, her restraint cracking.

“It’s not about being good,” said Izuku.  “It’s about what’s best for you.  It’s okay to cry, if you need to.”

He held his hand out to her.  Nervously, Eri reached her own hand out, her fingers nervously touching his palm.  As soon as she made contact, she rapidly pulled her hand back, as though she were afraid it was a trap that would snap shut around her fingers in an instant.  But Izuku’s own hand didn’t twitch.  He merely waited.

Eri reached out again, this time resting her fingertips against his palm a little longer.  Izuku let her get accustomed to the contact, before slowly, and gently closing his hand around hers.

“Just let go,” Izuku said softly.  “I’ve got you now.”

Eri’s eyes spilled over with more tears than ever, and she stumbled across the bed.  Izuku guided her in, wrapping her up in his arms, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.  The next thing he knew, Eri’s body was wracked with sobs.  She cried.  She wailed.  She shrieked.  Her voice, right next to his ear was definitely exceeding the safe decibel limit for his hearing.  But Izuku would gladly deal with any and all future cases of the tinnitus that resulted, if it helped Eri.  He stood up, gently bouncing her in his arms, one hand going to the back of her head, gently stroking through her hair.

“That’s it,” Izuku said softly, as Eri clung to him, crying with all her might.  “Let it all out.  Get those bad feelings out…and we’ll fill you up with much better ones.  You’re with us now…and we’ll protect you with everything we have.”

If Eri was able to hear his reassurances over her own wails, he couldn’t tell.  But she felt his touch, felt his warmth, felt his acceptance.  She came completely undone in his arms, releasing all the pain and anguish built up inside of her over the years she’d spent enduring Overhaul’s torture.

Izuku simply held her, weathering the storm of emotions, and offering what comfort that he could.  After a little while, Eri’s cries petered out, her voice dying.  Her grip on him slackened, her body going limp.  The emotional drain had tired her out, and she was falling asleep.

“It’s okay,” Izuku assured her.  “Rest.  I’ll protect you.”

He felt one more breath leave Eri, a soft gasp of relief, and she went quiet and still, only the faint stirring against his neck indicating that she was still breathing.

“…I remember the fate you planned for that monster,” said Toshiro, watching from the door.  “And now I’m thinking you went easy on him.”

“So am I,” Izuku replied.  “But it doesn’t matter.  Overhaul got what was coming to him.  Eri-chan’s what matters now.  Let’s get this cleaned up and head out.  Someone get in touch with Gentle’s team.”

“We have already arrived, oh esteemed leader!” Danjuro declared with his usual bombast, only to be hushed by everyone else in the hallway, so that he didn’t disturb Eri’s rest.  “Oh…my apologies.”

“We good to go?” asked Izuku.

“We’ve got all the data,” said Manami.

“The equipment’s trashed, including the computers,” said Iori.  She held up a small briefcase.  “This has all the samples and finished doses that we found.”

“Good work,” said Izuku.  He turned to Manami again.  “Do we have anything inbound?”

“Police scanners are indicating reports of a disturbance,” said Manami.  “There’s a hero on their way to investigate.”

“Okay,” said Izuku nodding.  “In that case…once we’re evacuated, Adamant and Kurogiri will return and make some noise upstairs, in the main compound.  Give the heroes a pretext to enter.”

“You want them to come?” asked Toshiro.

“Someone should get to clean this up,” said Izuku, drawing chuckles from the rest.  “Also, the former-head is upstairs on life support.  He was made like that for trying to stop this before it started.  So he shouldn’t be left unattended for too long.  The heroes will find him and take him to a proper hospital.  Maybe they’ll find a way to wake him back up.”

“Understood,” said Iori.

“Should we torch the room?” asked Tatsuya.  “I mean…it might cause us more problems than we’re ready for, if the heroes think we’re holding a little girl prisoner.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” said Izuku.  “The heroes will find out about her.  Even if they tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, nearly all the members of the Shie Hassaikai knew that Eri was here.  One of them will talk about her sooner or later.  The only way to prevent that would be to comb through the compound and kill every last one of them.”

No one was keen to follow through on that.

“Will it be okay though?” asked Tsuyoshi.

“We’ll make do,” said Izuku.  “Even if that prompts the heroes to search harder for us, let them.  We did what we came here to do, and that’s all that matters.  The important thing is that they won’t get their hands on Chisaki’s research.”

The rest nodded in agreement.

“All right…let’s clear out of here,” said Izuku.

Kurogiri created a portal, and The Rationals streamed through it.  A moment later, all that remained in the underground of the Shie Hassaikai’s base were prone bodies…many of which would never stir again.

Izuku and the others emerged from the portal, back in their hideout.  While everyone else changed out of their costumes, Izuku left their staging room, where they kept their costumes and gear between missions, and passed on into the rest of the compound.  He padded down wooden hallways, the boards creaking softly beneath his feet.

Overhaul and the Shie Hassaikai didn’t have a monopoly on underground bases, though one wouldn’t have known it from the traditional Japanese aesthetic of the hallways, and many of the rooms.  Rather like the Shie Hassaikai’s network of tunnels, this base too featured a rather elaborate layout, including routes with traps and dead-ends, designed to thwart intruders.

The Rationals had obtained their base through Giran’s connections, and remodeled the interior to better suit their needs.  It was apparently a surprisingly old structure, the underground hallways winding beneath the temple complex of Mount Hiei.  According to what Izuku had learned, it had once belonged to some would-be revolutionary, opposing the early Meiji Government.  But whatever the original owner had intended had apparently never come to fruition.

Izuku resolved that his own revolution wouldn’t be lost to history like that.

After a couple of turns, Izuku arrived at a large room that, in many ways, was the central hub of the base.  It was their common room, dining room, main entertainment room, and kitchen all rolled into one.  It was definitely one of the large rooms in the compound, with a higher ceiling as well.  It was also furnished in a western style, rather than the traditional Japanese, sporting chairs, couches, and seats on a carpeted floor.  In the center of the room was a sitting area, dominated by a couple of couches and plush chairs arranged around a low table.

On one of the couches was seated Toru and Mawata, both girls relaxing contentedly.  They seemed slightly flush, which meant they were likely just recently out of the bath.  Toru’s hair had an especially alluring shimmer to it, a feature that actually made the other girls nearly come to blows over who got to brush Toru’s hair each evening (to avoid fighting they’d actually wound up switching to a system of lots and elimination to ensure that each girl got a chance to be the one to brush Toru’s hair).

Rather amusingly, rather than a robe, though she was undoubtedly clothed underneath, Toru was instead wrapped in a bundle of Mawata’s Candy Cloud, something that a great many members of The Rationals enjoyed, finding the sensation of the warm, soft material wrapped around them incredibly soothing.  Even though she was all wrapped up, Toru’s arms had been left free, allowing her to reach out and pluck candies from the bowl that rested on the table in front of her and Mawata.

“Do you feel feel better, Hagakure-san?” asked Izuku, approaching.

Toru jolted in surprise, her head lurching up to look at him.  Izuku smiled warmly at her, prompting her to relax a little.  Then Toru’s eyes settled on the sleeping girl in Izuku’s arms.  “Is that…?”

“That’s right,” said Izuku, gently hefting Eri, making sure not to disturb her.  “This Eri.”

Toru let out a soft gasp.  “She’s so cute!”

“She is,” Mawata agreed.

“We’ll be looking after her from now on,” said Izuku.  “I’ll be taking her to her new room in a moment.  But I wanted you to see her first.”

“Why?” asked Toru, canting her head.

“Because I wanted to show what you made possible,” Izuku told her.  “What happened…what you were a part of.  It wasn’t just the killing.  You made saving Eri possible too.  She’s here now, and she’ll be safe and happy from now on…because of you.  I wanted to make sure you understood that.”

“Oh…”  Toru’s hand went to her mouth.

“That’s not to say you have to have a part in any such missions in the future,” said Izuku.  “Think about it a little more, and decide whether or not that kind of work is something you can keep up with.”

“If…If I do…”  Toru swallowed uneasily.  “Will it get easier?”

Izuku sighed, and nodded.  “It will,” he admitted.  “As much as I loathe to admit it, humans are adaptable in the worst possible ways.  With enough exposure, we can get used to anything…even killing.  That’s why none of the rest of us batted an eyelid.  It’s not that we’re tougher, or have stronger convictions…we’ve just had time to get used to it.”

“Oh…” Toru said again.

“Which isn’t to say that you have to get used to it,” Izuku said.  “If that’s a line you don’t want to cross anymore, then I have no intention of making you.  We can still find ways for you to help that don’t involve killing people.  That isn’t even the actual objective most of the time…just a byproduct of whatever else we’re trying to do.  This was one of the rare occasions where killing was an actual part of the objective.”

Mawata nodded in silent agreement, reaching over and resting her hand on Toru’s.

“I…”  Toru looked down, her expression pensive.  “I’ll think about it.”

“Take your time,” said Izuku.  “There’s no rush.  We can talk more about it as well.”

“Okay,” said Toru.

“I’ll go get Eri settled now,” Izuku said.  “Later, we’ll need to take her out shopping for clothes, as well as any toys or decorations she might want for her room.  Would you like to help with that, Hagakure-san?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Toru, before clamping her hands over her mouth at her outburst.

Eri didn’t stir though.  Izuku chuckled softly, gently rubbing the back of her head.  He took his leave of the common area, heading towards the bedrooms, where he’d already picked one out for Eri.

It was largely empty right now, containing the bare minimum of furniture.  However, it had other amenities, like its own closet and bathroom.  Izuku had left it empty, because he wanted Eri to be able to choose what went into it herself.  He was sure that, after so much time under Overhaul’s domineering control, it would help for Eri to choose for herself what went into her space, allowing her to create something truly her own.  And after seeing her room, in the Shie Hassaikai’s compound, filled with toys thoughtlessly thrown her way in a token attempt to placate her, Izuku was more sure than ever that one of the crucial elements to helping her recover would be to put control into her hands.

You’re not just a guest, Izuku thought, as he settled Eri onto her bed and tucked the covers in around her.  This isn’t a prison.  It’s your home now…and we’ll make it into a place where you feel you truly belong.

The downfall of the Shie Hassaikai made the national news…particularly once the authorities linked The Rationals to the incident.  While the particulars eluded investigators, it didn’t take long for the general gist of what had happened to emerge, particularly as survivors talked.  To the public, it was troubling only in the general sense that such events seemed to be on the rise.  But at the same time, to them, it was something that could be dismissed as another conflict between villainous organizations…nothing particularly new or special.

The underworld was a different matter though.  The yakuza were fading remnants of an obsolete system.  Nonetheless, the Shie Hassaikai’s vicious methods had been making at least some small degree of progress in clawing their way back to the brink.  There was also the fact that, for the impressive impact The Rationals had made upon their debut, there were plenty of people and groups who were dubious about the prospects of an organization helmed by a Quirkless, high school-aged, boy.

The Shie Hassaikai were vicious, powerful, and were led by a man who’d quickly developed a reputation for his absolute ruthlessness.  However, The Rationals had crushed them easily, dismantling the entire organization in a single, swift, almost surgical operation.  Such a decisive outcome was turning heads all throughout the underground.

As for The Rationals themselves, they continued their work, carefully and quietly, continuing to build their foundation and gather both power and influence.  Sales of the tech that Izuku had developed were picking up.  In particular though, Izuku was starting to shift his market more from villains to the civilian sphere.  Despite the Hero Commission’s ban on them, Eraser Lights continued to serve as his flagship product, particularly as Izuku developed varieties that were easier for civilians to conceal, hiding the fact that they had such a device on their person.

With the defeat of All Might, villain activity was on the rise.  The country was gradually growing more and more dangerous.  The heroes didn’t seem to be able to keep up, and even before All Might’s fall, there had always been underserved areas and communities, where people were required to look after themselves, since the heroes couldn’t be counted on to do it.  That sentiment was steadily spreading as faith in the heroes was eroded by the seemingly implacable rise of chaos.

And ironically, the Hero Commission had proved to be one of the greatest assets to Izuku’s commercial success.  Their heavy-handed attempts to curb the sale and usage of Eraser Lights had only served to highlight unpleasant truths about the organization that governed heroes in Japan.  Rather than address the conditions that drove people to rely on such technology; such as by assigning heroes to neglected areas, and emphasizing effectiveness over appearance; they had instead opted for the simpler and, on-paper, easier path of cracking down on the tech itself, seeking to force people into line with punitive measures.  For each person punished for taking matters into their own hands, because the ones who were supposed to be entrusted with said matters were not on-hand, it reinforced the realization that the Commission wasn’t looking out for the wellbeing of the people…but their own power and authority.

Instead, the Commission seemed to be focusing more in visibility, and displays of strength.  Heroes seemed to focus even more in areas where they would be more visible, where more people would see them.  It was an attempt to show that they were picking up the slack left by All Might’s absence.  But it only served to highlight the very inequities that were driving Izuku’s sales to begin with.

It also showed in the lack of pragmatism, when it came to how to deal with the threat that the Eraser Lights represented.  In truth, thwarting such devices could actually be very easy.  It required someone’s body to be exposed to the light’s emissions in order to function.  During the raid on the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku had actually been a little worried, since several of Kai’s subordinates wore cloaks and masks that completely covered their bodies.  Only the fact that they had left their arms exposed had rendered them vulnerable, to say nothing of Mimic, and the objects he inhabited, which he had needed to be baited out of.

And so, the simple solution to the threat of the Eraser Lights was for the heroes to adjust their costumes to cover their bodies, leaving no exposed skin for the light to affect.  Granted, there were heroes who needed to expose parts of their bodies for their Quirks to operate.  But the risk could be minimized with the correct equipment.

The problem was that, if heroes across the country made such, often drastic, modifications to their costumes, people would take notice.  And it wouldn’t be hard for them to figure out why.  It would be viewed as an admission of fear, of vulnerability…of weakness.  Even if it was a perfectly pragmatic solution to the problem, there were many who would decry it as cowardice.  Therefore, it was an option the heroes dare not take.  Izuku ruefully noted that, in much of Japan, saving face took precedence over acknowledging the necessity of the situation.

In the following weeks, there weren’t any further momentous occurrences.  Serious conflicts, like the one against the Shie Hassaikai, were relatively rare.  So right now, The Rationals were more focused on consolidating their power and resources, while quietly widening the cracks in the foundation of hero society.

Amongst other things, Izuku busied himself in examining the information gathered by their raid on the Shie Hassaikai, learning the full extent of Kai’s research, and building an understanding of what Kai had discovered…as well as the truth lurking behind it.  Frankly…Izuku found himself floored by what he had learned.

“Izuku…”

“Huh…?”  Izuku looked up at the sound of Mawata’s voice, his mouth opening to greet her…only to find a pork katsu sandwich pushed between his opening lips.

“Eat,” Mawata ordered firmly, setting the rest of the sandwich, on its plate, and a bottle of juice, down on the desk, beside the notebook Izuku had been laboring over, and across from the laptop he had alternately been tapping away on.

Izuku closed his mouth, biting off a piece of the sandwich, crunching through the breading, while grabbing the rest of the piece, so it didn’t fall to the floor, chewing it with a pensive look on his face.  “How long?”

“Almost two whole days,” said Mawata.  “That’s why, after you eat, you’re getting a bath, then I’m taking you to bed.”  The tone of her voice made it clear that he was in no position to argue with her.

Izuku didn’t want to anyway.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

“This research must really be something,” said Mawata, glancing at the computer.  “You’re passionate about your work.  But you almost never lose track of whole days like that, considering you go after Manami-chan for the same thing.”

“Er…Well…”  Izuku scratched his head.  “Yeah…it’s pretty groundbreaking honestly.  I’m both amazed and offended by it.”

Mawata tilted her head, regarding him curiously.

Izuku chuckled.  “Well…Overhaul was, simultaneously, an incredible genius…and one of the biggest goddamn idiots I have ever had the displeasure of encountering.”

“I take it you’re not talking about his hypocrisy,” Mawata guessed, remembering how Kai would talk about the Quirk “disease” in one breath, then demean Izuku for his Quirklessness with the next.

“Not that…” Izuku confirmed.  “Instead…it’s his research, this Quirk-erasing serum of his.  It’s an unbelievable achievement, because he managed to accomplish something that virtually no one else has, since the emergence of Quirks.  But at the same time, he clearly didn’t realize how monumental it was, because he was too obsessed with the particular end result.  He completely missed the forest for the trees.”

“What did he do?” asked Mawata.  It was a bit uncomfortable, considering they were discussing the research that had caused so much pain for Eri.

Eri had settled quite well into her new home with the rationals, who all absolutely adored her, down to every last one of them.  They’d even managed their first big breakthrough of managing to help her throw off Overhaul’s conditioning, and smile for the very first time in years.  At present, she was currently being readied for bed, with Toru being tonight’s lucky winner of the story-time lottery.

Then again, they also had Overhaul’s research to thank for Eri’s smooth integration in a sense.  It was Overhaul’s copious research into Eri’s Quirk that first informed The Rationals as to what it actually was…Rewind, a powerful Quirk that triggered temporal regression in living things.  Given that he was only concerned with her use as an experimental subject, Kai had never provided Eri with anything resembling Quirk Counseling, that would teach her how to rein in her Quirk’s power.  Her original initial use of it had caused her to accidentally rewind her own father out of existence and, without Overhaul’s notes to inform them, The Rationals might well have learned the nature of Eri’s Quirk through a similar accident, with the fact that their base was strung through with Eraser Lights in virtually every space as a security and safety measure being the only mitigating factor in such a situation.

Izuku took another bite of his sandwich, chewing it thoughtfully, as he turned to regard the computer screen again.  After he swallowed, he continued.  “Overhaul was able to activate a person’s Quirk through a sample of their genetic material.  That alone has been practically impossible, since the emergence of Quirks.  It’s why Quirk transplants and transfusions were never successful.”

When Quirks first emerged, and the Quirk factor had been identified, it was a natural leap for many, often unscrupulous, people, who either coveted, or sought to traffic in, Quirks’ power.  One of the first ideas that such people had tried had been transfusions and transplants, the theory that, by transfusing a Quirked person’s blood into a Quirkless person, or transplanting an organ from a Quirked donor (often without said donor’s consent) into a Quirkless person, the recipient might be able to utilize the Quirk in question.  It was, in a sense, an iteration of the same concept that had fueled the notion of “young blood” transfusions, which posited that transfusing blood from a younger donor into an older recipient could offset the effects of aging.  Quirk transfusions were similarly unsuccessful.  Even more unusual and extreme approaches; such as utilizing bone marrow, stem cells, or even attempts at direct gene splicing; had failed to yield results.

“The fact that it took All For One, a Quirk with the explicit capability to facilitate the movement of Quirks from one person to another makes one thing apparent,” said Izuku.  “The truth is…the Quirk factor…is not the Quirk itself.”

Mawata’s mouth opened in a soft gasp.

“It’s a question that we’ve been quietly sidestepping since the very beginning, often without actually thinking about it,” said Izuku.  “What are Quirks?

“The most common answer to that, calling them superpowers or special abilities…isn’t the real answer.  What we’re describing is a Quirk’s effect…but not what a Quirk actually is.  It’s like claiming that a fire is the cloud of smoke it produces, just because we can only see the smoke from our current position.”

Izuku reached over and picked up a small box.  “This box is a cube…a three dimensional item.  But when put up to a light…”  He reached over and turned his desk lamp to face the wall, setting the light to its brightest setting, and holding the cube up to it.  “…the shadow it produces is two-dimensional.  We’re not seeing the Quirks themselves, but merely the shadow they cast on the world as we can perceive it.

“Even my technology, when I manage to emulate a Quirk, is me looking at that shadow, and then constructing an apparatus that casts a shadow of the same or similar shape.”

“What is a Quirk factor then?” asked Mawata, finding herself drawn in.

“At the moment, my operating theory is that…it’s a terminal,” said Izuku.  “It’s the element of a person’s genes that links them to their Quirk, and allows them to access and utilize its capabilities.  That’s why attempts to transfuse Quirks always failed, because the Quirk factor loses utility, when it is separated from the Quirk itself, when taken away from the one who holds that Quirk.  The actual Quirk is something that can’t be removed near as easily.

“That’s what makes Overhaul’s research so groundbreaking.  This isn’t utilizing a substance produced by a person’s Quirk.  He took Eri’s genetic material, and used that to invoke the effect of her Quirk separately from Eri herself.  Even though it was separated from the Quirk’s host, Overhaul was able to utilize the Quirk factor to access the the Quirk itself.

“But it goes even further than that, because not only was he able to utilize Rewind’s power through his serum, he was also able to specify the end effect.  Considering what we know about what happened to Eri’s father I wouldn’t have been surprised if the use of Overhaul’s serum simply produced the same undifferentiated effect, when utilized…which actually would have made them even more terrifying than what he actually created.”

Mawata thought about it…bullets that, when they hit their target, caused the victim to instead regress back through their life…before disappearing entirely.  Yeah…that’s even worse than losing your Quirk, she thought uneasily.

Izuku nodded, seeing Mawata’s unease.  “But Overhaul was able to actually specify the target of the effect…namely the Quirk factor of the person affected.  He was able to specify the effect, namely rewinding the Quirk factor, and only the Quirk factor, out of existence.  So…not only was he able to activate a person’s Quirk through a sample of their genetic material, but he was also able to directly alter the parameters of the effect to achieve a specific result.”

“…When you put it like that, it is amazing,” said Mawata.

Izuku nodded, then rubbed his temple.  He picked up the juice Mawata had brought him, and took a sip.  “But again, the only thing Overhaul cared about was his Quirk-erasers.  If he’d bothered to think about what he’d actually done, then his mind might’ve been blown like mine was.”

“You think he actually developed the means to interact with the Quirk itself,” said Mawata.

“That’s right,” said Izuku.  “And if we can manage that…then it opens up limitless possibilities.  Because, if we can interact with someone’s Quirk on that level, then we might well be able to affect actual change on it.  Beyond simply being able to utilize a Quirk by using a sample of a person’s genetic material as a catalyst, there’s the potential that the Quirk itself can be altered.

“Rather than make up for limitations with equipment, a Quirk could be edited to mitigate drawbacks.  A person’s Quirk could be removed or replaced, implanted without the assistance of a Quirk specifically for that purpose, like All For One.  It might…”  Izuku sucked in a breath.  “…It might be possible…to actually create a Quirk…whole cloth.”

Mawata gasped in shock.  “If you did that…!”

“Quirklessness would become a thing of the past,” said Izuku.  “Anyone who ended up not getting a Quirk could still receive one.  People, whose Quirks have detrimental effects could have those effects mitigated, or even eliminated.  People could replace their Quirks with one that suits them better.”

Mawata frowned.  “That sounds like…”

“Yeah…” agreed Izuku, scratching his chin.  “There’s a lot of potential for abuse and misuse, if we follow this to its natural conclusion.

“But that’s dependent on a lot of factors.  Right now…most of what I have is guesswork, and I’m still working out a way towards actually utilizing this information.  There’s a long road ahead, before I get any kind of results from this.  Not to mention…Overhaul’s research isn’t the only research pertinent to the topic.”

“What else is there?” asked Mawata.

“The nomu,” Izuku said.

“All For One’s monsters…?” asked Mawata.  “Didn’t he just plant extra Quirks into them himself?”

“That’s what I initially thought too,” said Izuku.  “But the number of nomu being produced, across multiple facilities…given his condition at the time, there was practically no way that All For One was able to go around to all those different locations and implant Quirks into the nomu himself.  Not to mention that several of those nomu all apparently shared Quirks across their respective ‘load outs’.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mawata.

“Several nomu were equipped with the same regeneration Quirk,” elaborated Izuku.  “It wasn’t implanted universally across all of them.  But it was a fairly common add-on.  Likewise, power-based nomu often sported the same set of strength enhancement Quirks.  In other words, All For One and Dr. Garaki weren’t just moving Quirks from one person to another…they were able to duplicate them.

“After all, All For One’s Quirks were far too valuable to simply be granted to disposable foot soldiers.  Unless he had the means of ensuring they wouldn’t be lost, he wouldn’t want to impart them to anyone else.  Being able to make copies of useful ones allowed him to empower his monsters, without giving up the originals.

“And if I’m right, then Dr. Garaki was actually able to utilize All For One through a sample of the man’s own genetic material…which means…”

“He managed to do the same thing that Overhaul did!” exclaimed Mawata.

“Exactly,” said Izuku.  “Of course, I’m still working out the full extent of Garaki’s research.  He’s been around nearly as long as All For One himself, and he’s been compiling data the entire time.  But by reconciling his research with Overhaul’s, I think it might be possible to make a breakthrough, once I have a full understanding.”

“I…think I understand…” said Mawata uncertainly.  “But…is this all right?”

“…You mean about Eri?” asked Izuku.

Mawata nodded.

Izuku turned to look back at the computer screen…thinking about what he had seen during that first visit, watching as Kai gleefully tortured Eri, breaking her apart and reassembling her, again and again…sucking the literal life out of her, then replacing it.  Subjecting her to intense agony…all for the sake of fulfilling his personal ambitions.

“I thought about it,” Izuku admitted.  “Maybe the truly ethical thing to do…would be to simply destroy everything…erase it…but…that feels like a waste…not just for the research…but for Eri as well.”

“Why is that?” asked Mawata.

“If we just destroy everything…then that would mean that…for the two years she was trapped in Overhaul’s control…she went through all that pain, and endured all that suffering…for nothing,” said Izuku.  “It makes everything she went through pointless…senseless…not even a zero-sum, but a net negative.

“At the very least…I want to see if I can give it some kind of meaning, make something positive…so that Eri didn’t suffer for nothing…something that she can see as a gain, something she can take pride in…something that can give her hope.  That’s what I want to do.”

Mawata smiled at that.  “I…I think you might be right,” she admitted.  “I don’t know how Eri will feel about it though.”

“You’re right,” agreed Izuku.  “If she chooses not to accept that…then I guess I’ll have to accept that.”  He groaned and scratched his head.  “But it’s not as though I can unlearn everything I’ve found out, so I’d still be following the same path of development Overhaul did…just not using as heinous methods.”

“We’ll just have to communicate your feelings as clearly as we can,” said Mawata, reaching out and turning Izuku’s face, so that she could kiss his cheek.  “But that starts with making sure you take care of yourself.  So now…finish your dinner…then bath and bed.”

“Yes, Dear,” said Izuku dutifully, turning to finish his sandwich and juice.

A little while later, Izuku finished his dinner and took his bath.  Once he was finished, he had to admit that Mawata was right.  He’d been at this for too long.  His eyelids were beginning to droop.  He was ready to crawl into bed and pass out like a light, with Mawata in his arms.  He was genuinely looking forward to it.

Which was why, as he and Mawata were getting ready, Izuku couldn’t help but sigh, when he heard his phone go off.  “What could it be at this time of night?” he wondered.

Technically, that shouldn’t have been a question he needed to ask.  The villain world was often a nocturnal one, with any number of dastardly deeds being conduced after the sun went down.  Even The Rationals had more than their fair share of nighttime operations.  So the fact that he was receiving a notification at this hour shouldn’t have been so bothersome…but Izuku had been awake for longer than he should have…it was his own fault, of course, but still…

Picking up his phone from where he’d left it, Izuku turned it to look at the screen…and froze.

“What is it?” asked Mawata.

Izuku jolted back into action, silencing the alarm and tapping his phone’s screen.  “It’s Aoyama-kun,” Izuku said.  “He just activated his emergency extraction signal.”

Mawata gasped.  “Has he been found out!?”

“I don’t know,” Izuku replied as Kurogiri warped in.  “Kurogiri, staging room.”

“Yes, Izuku-sama,” said Kurogiri dutifully, creating a portal.

Izuku and Mawata stepped through into the staging room, where Izuku pointed to his feather-shield.  Mawata pulled it off the shelf and slid it onto Izuku’s right arm, as he continued to use his phone with the left.  She went and fetched the vizor as well, settling it over Izuku’s face.

“It’s coming from outside of UA’s perimeter,” Izuku said.  “It’s not far away.  But he’s left the grounds.”

Mawata’s lips pressed into a frown.  Ever since the summer camp debacle, UA had converted into a boarding school, hosting their students in on-campus dorms.  At this hour, a student shouldn’t have been allowed to leave the campus.

“Kurogiri, small portal to Aoyama-kun’s coordinates…elevation one-hundred meters,” Izuku ordered Kurogiri.

“Yes, Izuku-sama,” said Kurogiri, creating a small portal, as ordered.

Izuku detached one of his smaller feather-drones, and sent it through the portal, using his vizor’s feed to see through its camera as it emerged through the other side, allowing him to scout out the area, and determine if this was a trap or ambush.  If Yuga had been found out, it could be that the heroes were using his distress signal to lure Izuku out.  Even if it wasn’t an ambush, Yuga could be in the midst of a situation that could complicate his escape.  Izuku needed an overview first.

What he saw made his eyes widen in surprise and confusion…before narrowing.

“What is it?” asked Mawata.  “Is Aoyama-kun okay?”

“It’s not him,” Izuku said.

“What!?” gasped Mawata with shock.

Izuku recalled his feather-drone and took off his equipment, then turned to Kurogiri.  “Full-sized portal at ground-level.”

“Yes, Izuku-sama,” said Kurogiri.

Izuku turned to Mawata.  “Wait here for now.”

Mawata swallowed nervously, before nodding, trusting his judgment.

Izuku gave her one last nod, before stepping through the portal.

He emerged into an alleyway.  Thanks to the map he’d checked earlier, he knew that it was only a couple of blocks away from UA’s main gate.  If he stepped onto the street outside, he’d be able to look down it and see the high rises of UA’s main campus in the distance.

However, that was hardly a concern.  Instead…

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again…especially like this,” Izuku said.

Huddled up against the wall of the alleyway, resting with her knees hugged to her chest, the girl looked up at him with eyes that widened with shock, and no small amount of fear, at the sight of him.

The last time he had seen her had been during the League’s attack on the forest camp.  He still remembered the sight of her then, orange hair streaming behind her in an offset ponytail, teal eyes shining with a fierce determination and a desire to protect.

Those eyes were now dull, glazed over with despair, tears streaming down out of them.  The fear she expressed at the sight of him was reflexive, recognizing him as a villain.  But there was also a resignation to her gaze…the look of someone who had been condemned to a terrible fate…and saw no way out of it.  Her hair was unbound, instead running freely down behind her head, looking somewhat matted and tangled, like she hadn’t bathed in a while.  Combined with her state of dress; a UA-issued gym uniform with several tears, almost to the point of barely setting on her body; it looked as though she had fled in desperation, unable to take even the few minutes it would require to groom and put on proper clothes, all the more jarring, now that UA had switched to being boarding school, and she should have had housing on-campus to utilize.  She’d left UA in a hurry then…a big hurry.

But most jarring was the array of jagged black lines running to and fro across her skin, forming an angry web over her face, stretching down her neck, and running out along her arms.  Izuku had never seen a phenomenon like this.  It almost looked as her body was breaking apart into pieces.

The girl looked up at him with a frightened gaze.  “It’s you…”

Izuku took in the sight of her, one thing becoming clear.  This wasn’t the look of a hero hopeful confronting a villain.  This was the look of someone helpless…someone who needed to be saved.

It’s almost funny, he reflected ruefully.  I’m supposed to be a villain now…and I keep getting called on to play the hero.  But…I guess that’s what I signed up for in a sense.

If she was away from UA like this, then that meant she wasn’t safe there…that the heroes themselves might be the threat she was seeking to escape.  She had Yuga’s phone, and had entered the code that he was supposed to utilize for an emergency extraction, something she would only have known because he had told her what to do…meaning that Yuga had sent her to him.

She was someone the heroes couldn’t help…maybe wouldn’t help.  So Izuku would save her instead…that was his promise.