Chapter 175 - The Eyes of God

Shoto's blood ran cold.

Why now ?

His jaw clenched so hard he could have broken his teeth.

"Dad, we've got to go"

Endeavor didn't even look at him.

Shoto shoved his mobile phone under his nose.

Endeavor frowned, pulled his nose away from the screen, his eyes squinting at the three letters and the location.

"What the-"

"All for One is in Tokyo"

President Pantu's head snapped towards him so quickly that the muscles in the back of her neck almost cracked.

"What did you just say ?"

*

The alley was a capital 'I', crossing in front of and behind Aizawa.

Nearly a dozen men were on the rooftops, the majority on the ground equally in front of and behind him.

Aizawa saw the curtains of one of the small houses move.

He hoped no civilians would go out because he had no idea how he would go on protecting them.

Aizawa acted quickly.

He raised his gun and fired two shots at chest height into the group in front of him.

Simultaneously he spun on his feet, pulled his capture scarf from the hand holding the knife and threw it at one of the soldiers behind him.

The man fell to the ground and slipped on it, white band wrapped around his hands, his feet flapping against the ground like a fish out of water.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the street.

With a sharp flick of his wrist Aizawa brought the man towards him, making him almost trip on his feet.

He shot the man between the eyes and then used him as a human shield as he crouched down in the protection of a doorway.

At the same moment, those on the rooftops opened fire.

The walls around him were riddled with bullets, cement and stone fragments flying like shrapnel in all directions.

Squinting to avoid collateral damage, Aizawa clenched his teeth and held on to the body.

It trembled between his hands, shaking from the spasms caused by the onslaught of bullets, and Aizawa had to hold the corpse closer to his body.

Tears of blood from the pierced forehead dripped onto Aizawa's left ear, staining his scarf and rolling down his sweater.

He wouldn't last long like this.

Aizawa quickly considered his options.

"The greatest good for the greatest number", Nezu's perfidious voice whispered in his ear.

Aizawa really had only one option.

He disarmed the corpse, stole his pistol and clipped it to his belt.

Leaning forward slightly, he then threw his weight against the door behind him, his left foot raised to act as a battering ram.

He thought he heard people screaming from behind the cacophony of rain and bullets.

The wooden door vibrated but didn't give way.

Aizawa struck again and again, his blows becoming more violent and desperate.

Aizawa couldn't see the roof, but when the volley of shots stopped, he knew they would soon reconsider the Quirks' option now that he had no one in his line of sight.

With a grunt, Aizawa tightened his grip on the corpse with his left hand and lifted it so that its torso protected Aizawa's face and its legs hung limply at knee height.

In one motion he placed the body between himself and the door, closed his eyes and shot the lock.

There was a clang covered by the sound of the rain.

Aizawa kicked the door open and it slammed against the wall.

He stepped straight into a small living room overflowing with furniture, his red eyes scanning the room in a flash.

A trembling couple stood at the thresold of a closed door.

The woman was holding a knife and the man, half-hiding her behind him, put his trembling hands in a triangular position in front of his torso.

He murmured a few words, then closed his eyes : he opened them a few moments later, confused, before realisation made him drop his position.

"You- you are...."

The rain, driven by the wind, came in and stained the wooden floor.

Aizawa, standing on the threshold facing the street, didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the gutters around the roof of the house opposite.

He tore off a very long piece of his shawl, wrapped it around the corpse's right wrist, then expertly threw the other end into one of the gutters, where it caught.

The corpse, slumped against Aizawa's torso, jerked upright like a puppet whose strings had just been reattached, its feet dragging on the ground, then rised on tiptoes before finally floating out of the house's recess.

The reaction was immediate : the dragged corpse strafed.

Aizawa, his hair sticking to his jaw, pressed himself against the right wall of the doorway, raised his rifle to the left and fired at all the soldiers who had stepped forward.

He fired three shots with expert precision.

Two men landed on their back, the third - a spray of blood that exploded like a bomb from his skull - hit a window sill and then slid down the wall, leaving a trail of crushed brain in his wake.

The dark street was lit by a flash of lightning.

Aizawa backed into the house, his hand on the doorknob, catching the image of the corpse he'd used as a decoy hitting the opposite facade, dangling like a hanged man.

He slammed the door and jumped back before throwing himself on the ground.

"Down, now !", he shouted.

The couple fell to their knees and Aizawa, lying on the ground, clenched his teeth and sent a lasso of white tape around their throats like a noose.

He clenched his teeth and pulled brutally forward ; the couple collided, shoulder to shoulder, hiccupped and fell face first. The man shot him a look of betrayal.

In the next instant, the entire living room was blasted by shots.

Aizawa pressed his forehead to the floor and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his head to protect them.

The small window by the door exploded.

Shattered glass flew in all directions as if it had been blown in by a bomb.

Bullets ripped through the walls like a sieve.

The TV shattered, the sofas shook as if there was an earthquake, the porcelain knickknacks on the shelves blew up in all directions like fireworks.

The door creaked under the onslaught of bullets and Aizawa stretched out his foot to hold it shut.

Foam, glass and cement fragments flew in all directions.

Something hit Aizawa's spine, right in the centre of his back.

He clenched his fists and tensed but didn't move, still covering his face

His eyes were his most precious possession : the rest of his body was worthless in comparison.

The shooting stopped.

Aizawa opened his eyes.

They must be going back on formation right outside.

His gaze met the man's.

Aizawa moved his lips without making a sound.

'Alone ?'

The man, trembling, catatonic, eyes wide open, was in shock.

It was his wife who pointed to the door behind them, shaking her head.

Her throat was red from the strangulation marks of Aizawa's scarf.

Preferring not to remove the scarf in case someone was looking through the window, Aizawa tore it off to relieve the pressure.

The remains of the scarf fell like ribbons on their shoulders.

Aizawa pointed at her and her husband then at the door behind them.

Then he showed his left hand - the one that still held the knife - and his five upturned fingers.

Looking into the civilian's eyes Aizawa silently counted down, lowering his fingers.

Three, two, one !

The woman jumped to her feet, pulled her husband by the collar of his shirt and opened the door.

Aizawa rose like an uncoiling snake, his gun pointed at the window, the handle of his knife wedged between his teeth.

He was currently in a blind spot.

The front door was to his left, the couple to his right, a long sofa facing the window a step away. Diagonally to his right was a corridor leading to three closed rooms.

Aizawa took a deep breath then made a half circle behind the sofa, his gun sweeping over the street outside as he raced through the living room.

At the threshold of the hallway, Aizawa caught a glimpse of the porch through the window.

He saw part of a back and shoulder sticking out.

Aizawa fired once.

It gave away his position, but he needed to distract them from the civilians.

Aizawa slipped into the darkness of the corridor as the living room was hit in the approximate direction from which he had just fired.

He moved away, his gun slightly lowered, his back to the doors.

He had to get out : there must be a window overlooking the other-

A blade pierced Aizawa from his back to his stomach.

*

A/N : If you want to read ahead of schedule, go check the story's P@treon, Nar_cisseENG