Chapter 34

Tiger plants his hand against Tenya's chest, stopping him from taking off toward the woods. "Mandalay gave you an order, Class President," he says. "Go back to the facility."

"But—"

The hulking hero pushes him back with little effort, and Tenya doesn't need the reminder—that he's still weak and small and there isn't a damn thing he can do in the pitch dark against a woman wielding a massive club and a reptilian man who looks like Stain's second coming—

(how dare they, how dare they worship that man, that murderer, how dare they call him an idol when Tensei is dead in the ground, when twenty heroes are dead at the hand of a man who would rather murder children than fight true evil—)

Tears prick at his eyes as he stares desperately past the villains to the dark woods beyond. His classmates are there, his best and closest friends are there—Midoriya is there, Uraraka is there, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu and Tsuyu and—

"Go!" Tiger roars, and Tenya chokes on a sob and obeys, hating every step.

"Help them," he whispers under his breath—who he's talking to, he has no idea. "Help them, please, bring them all back safe."

(He doesn't hear the voice in his ear, whispering, 'One step ahead of you, little brother.')

Kouta knows this man. He knows him from before he stopped watching TV, before he stopped looking at news stories, before he shut his eyes and plugged his ears to everything that has to do with heroes and villains and quirks. There was just enough time, before that point, for Kouta to see this man's face plastered over every news channel.

The right side of his face is the exact image from those pictures. The left…

The left is practically gone. The eye is gone, the skin is gone—just a wide, jagged rip down the side of his face, and an artificial eye in place of the old one.

And he's still smiling.

He should run. Somewhere in his mind, Kouta is trapped, frozen, staring up at the mountain of a man who took his parents away. The world goes blurry at the edges. He steps back. The man is talking to him, but Kouta can't hear him. He's raising his fist, but Kouta can't see him.

"Mom," he whispers, and his voice trembles even more than the tears in his eyes. "Dad."

He promised he wouldn't be like his parents. He swore he would never, ever be like his parents, that he wouldn't die like they did. And he was right.

His parents didn't have to die alone.

The fist comes down—

I'm sorry I'm sorry I don't hate you I never hated you I want to go home—

Something slams into him. Not a fist, not death—it's a whole body, bigger than him but so much smaller than the man that killed his parents. There are arms around him, clutching him close, and before he can hit the ground he's twisted around and thrust upward so someone else takes the brunt of it. The tears in his eyes fall—he sees the man's ruined face just for an instant, twisted with surprise and rage—and then there's nothing around them but empty air.

Kouta's mouth opens, but he's too shocked to scream. He holds tight to the person carrying him as his stomach drops—and his view is all wrong, all crooked and backwards and turned on its head, but he knows now that this is what it looks like to pitch over the edge of the rocky shelf.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and buries his face in their shoulder to muffle his terrified cries, holding tight to his rescuer as they leap and fall, slide, and leap and fall again until the ledge of his secret base is high above them. He tries to breathe, but he can only gasp—the impact knocks the wind out of him.

"Sorry!"

He knows that voice.

Kouta opens his eyes, and blinks in the glare of green lightning. He knows this quirk. The trees around them turn into a single dark smear until Kouta's stomach flip-flops and he has to shut his eyes. When he gathers the shreds of his courage back around him, he turns his head and opens his eyes again.

Midoriya is running, and there's a gas mask hanging around his neck and another slung over his shoulder, and Kouta doesn't know what that means, he doesn't know why Midoriya is here, and it feels like that shouldn't matter but it does matter, because why would Midoriya save him? Why would any of these people want to save someone who hates them, it doesn't make sense—

Something hits the ground like a meteor, just a stone's throw behind them.

Izuku knows he's fucked. He only hopes Kouta hasn't figured it out yet.

His phone is destroyed. When he knocked Kouta out of the hulking villain's way, he hadn't expected the outward force from that punch hitting the ground. It was enough to keep him from landing properly, and he was barely able to keep from falling on top of Kouta. He has far less now than he did against Stain; no phone, no promise of living backup, not even his proper gear. With Kouta in his arms, his balance is off.

On the other hand, this is no enclosed alleyway. He can run away. He has terrain on his side, one way or another—and if he could get up to that ledge to catch Kouta, then he could damn well get back down it again.

And so now he's ducking and weaving through the trees while the villain behind him barrels straight through them like a juggernaut. The fire is spreading. He has no idea where the villains are, or how many of them there are.

"Keep going," Mr. Izumi urges. "Come on. Not far now."

Rei shrieks. Izuku braces himself. "From the left!" Mrs. Izumi cries out, and Izuku swerves right. He doesn't just dodge—he changes course entirely, and stumbles when the villain's impact shakes the very earth beneath his feet.

"Don't stop now! You've got it!" Izuku doesn't know that voice. He doesn't know most of the voices in his ears right now. He isn't sure how many ghosts the villain has with him.

It's more than twenty, though.

"Takes some balls, taking on Muscular."

"He's coming straight at you from behind! Move, kid!"

Izuku swerves again, this time to the left, and the villain—Muscular?—clips him. That's still enough to send Izuku flying off his feet. He lands awkwardly, clutching Kouta close to his chest so the boy won't hit the ground. He struggles to his feet, ready to run—

Boom.

It's the kind of impact that sends trees toppling to the ground. It's certainly not the kind of impact that lets Izuku stay standing.

He scrambles up again and whips around, shoulders squared, tense and ready as he places himself between Kouta and the villain.

Muscular crouches to the ground, watching him with a grin that splits his face nearly in half. His fist is pressed to the center of a crater, and his arm bulges—it barely even looks like an arm anymore, bloated and grotesque with woven muscle fibers.

"Damn." His voice shakes with laughter, and when he stands, Izuku imagines that he's the sort of man who can block out the sun if he angles himself just right. "Damn."

The fire is close—not close enough to be dangerous yet, but close enough to be on Izuku's mind. The looped trail, and the Pussycats—where are they? How far? How long has he been running? How far did Muscular drive him off course?

"I gotta say, I do love a good chase," Muscular says. "It's been a long time since I had a decent runner. You're fun, kid. I like that."

He has Rei. He has the Izumis. He has… dead people. Hopefully useful dead people.

"And the boy?" Izuku asks. He's pretty sure his voice doesn't shake too much. "I can't imagine he'd be too fun for you. Why not let him go? You won't get anything out of him."

"W-what—?" Kouta's voice trembles behind him. "What are you—"

"Ohhh, don't tempt me." There's a strange vibration beneath Muscular's voice, a thrumming little waveform that's almost a purr. "When something runs, I gotta chase. That's just how it is." He pauses, head tilting. "You, though? You're lucky. It's Midoriya, right? I know your face. Lucky for you, you're not supposed to die tonight." More muscle fibers creep up his arms to his shoulders, weaving together into solid cords. "Nobody ever said I couldn't have a little fun, though." His teeth flash in the dark. "So. Entertain me."

"You can't fight him," Mrs. Izumi tells him. "You can't take him on—whatever you're thinking, you can't."

"Though, I guess if you're that set on the little kid surviving? I'm a reasonable guy." Muscular steps forward, and Izuku can feel the vibrations beneath his feet. Rei moves his side. Her hair is stirring. "Tell me where I can find that Bakugou kid, and maybe I'll let the little one run along home."

They're after Bakugou. Izuku takes a step back, and hears Kouta stumble along behind him.

"You have to run," Mr. Izumi tells him. "Take Kouta—take him and run. You can make it. You're almost there—"

"Take a look around, Water Horse," one of the others says flatly. "You know how fast he is. That kid takes two running steps and he's dead."

"Then tell me something useful," Izuku murmurs. Rei is moving, around Muscular to the space behind him.

"What was that?" Muscular asks.

"I don't have anything useful for you," he says, louder this time. "Sorry."

"Huh." Izuku sees the moment Muscular makes his choice. "That's a shame."

Rei appears over Muscular's shoulder, clawed hand swinging around to swipe at the back of his head. Confusion flashes across the villain's scarred face. His head whips around, and Izuku launches himself forward and hurls a punch at his jaw.

Muscle fibers twist up along the villain's neck. Izuku's punch lands, and he might as well have hit a brick wall with a plastic toy hammer.

Izuku blinks, starts to form a plan to retreat and regroup. Before the first thread of thought can take form, Muscular punches him in the ribs. His feet leave the ground, the world turns end over end, and when it rights itself, Izuku is slammed sideways into the trunk of a tree. He slides to the ground, jaws cracked open, head spinning. He activates his quirk again and hurls himself back into the fight, this time aiming low.

The same thing happens, only this time Muscular flings him around like a ragdoll with his feet. Izuku feels one of his ribs give.

"Too slow!" Muscular's voice rings out, almost sing-song with glee. It's a familiar tone. He sounds like a bully in the schoolyard, laughing and jeering as he holds a backpack or a notebook or a lunch pail high over Izuku's head. Izuku doesn't even have the chance to get up before Muscular tosses him around again.

"That's the most pathetic quirk I've ever seen," he jeers. "It does—what? Makes you strong? Makes you quick? What's the point of that when you can't be stronger or quicker than me?"

He's bleeding. He can feel it trickling warm and wet down his face, on his arms. He's on the ground and bleeding, and he can hear Kouta's voice, high and desperate and pleading. Muscular is talking back—at least for now, his attention is turned aside.

"Get up." Mrs. Izumi is at his side, pleading with him. "Please. I'm sorry—I'm so sorry, but you're his only hope."

"I know," Izuku whispers back. His arms tremble as he levers himself up again. "I know." Muscular is right. Full Cowl can't help him win. Muscular isn't Stain—he's stronger than Stain, crazier and cleverer and he doesn't seem to care about any ideals.

He doesn't have a choice. He can either go all out, or die. Or let Kouta die.

What can I sacrifice? he thinks. What can I do without?

Not his legs. He needs his legs to get around. His arms, then? One arm, if possible? He could do a lot, with one arm intact.

He readies himself to stand—no time to waste, not when Kouta needs him. He clenches his fists, and hopes Recovery Girl can forgive him for what he's about to do again.

"Midoriya!"

Heads turn. Not Muscular's head, or Kouta's. Only the ghosts can hear Tensei's voice when he appears at the scene.

"Tenya's safe!" Tensei calls to him. "But—things are bad. The fire's spreading, and there's a villain fighting Aizawa back at the facility—there are at least seven in all, by my count. There's no one who isn't fighting or running." He eyes Muscular. "Tell me how I can help you."

The fire roars roars in the distance. Somewhere in the woods, Yaoyorozu is waiting to meet him back at the facility. Uraraka—there was enough time for Uraraka and Tsuyu to go into the woods before this started, wasn't there? Todoroki? Bakugou—they're after Bakugou.

He has to help them.

Izuku's heart sinks down, down, down, until it feels as if it's level with the ground.

The answer to his question? Is nothing.

There is nothing he can't do without.

He needs his legs to run and find his friends. He needs his arms to carry Kouta, to carry his friends if they can't walk.

"Inteference," he says. He says it loudly enough to turn Muscular's attention back to him. He doesn't know how he must look, bloodied and battered within an inch of his life.

"What?" Muscular asks.

"You saw what Rei did?" Izuku whispers to Mrs. Izumi, barely moving his lips. "Do that. Stay out of my way, but do that, and pass it on."

"I don't know if I can," she tells him. "She—she touched him. Didn't she?"

"Don't do it for me," Izuku whispers. "Do it for him. Do it for Kouta. You can still fight for him. I'll help you."

"Okay," she answers. "Okay."

Izuku launches himself not forward, but up.

He couldn't have managed this on the cliffside. It was too open, with no ceiling overhead and only one solid wall. But here there are trees, with limbs and trunks that he can ricochet off of. He's not faster or stronger than Muscular by himself, but he can build up his speed, build up the force behind his blows. If Gran Torino could do it, then so can he.

There's another advantage to this, of course: it pisses him off. And if Muscular is angry with him, then he'll stop paying attention when Kouta backs away from him.

Branches crack, bark splinters, and Izuku sends dirt flying every time he touches the ground. It's close—far too close. If Rei and the ghosts weren't doing absolutely everything they could to keep him distracted, Muscular would probably have smacked him to the ground again.

There has to be a limit. There has to be a weak spot. If he can find it, and build up enough momentum to hit it—

"Quit fucking PLAYING AROUND!" Muscular roars. "Get your ass down here and fight me!"

Izuku rebounds off a branch and flies at him again. He only means to skim over his shoulder, but Muscular is still impossibly fast. The fibers on his shoulder twist, part. And then, to his horror, they rise up and trap his wrist. He yanks at it, but to no avail. When Muscular's reinforced fist swings around again, he can't dodge.

Hands grab at his arms and yank him back, His hand is wrenched free, and Muscular's punch only cracks another rib instead of shattering bone.

He falls back, landing near Kouta. Rei and Tensei are at one arm, the Water Horses at the other. Izuku doesn't waste his breath on a thank you. Setting his jaw, he ignores his wounds and grabs Kouta again before racing off into the trees.

"He's too fast," Kouta sobs. "He's too—you can't—"

"I know," Izuku mutters. "I know. I'm not escaping. Just need room. Need to think." He looks over his shoulder, mindful of the sounds of Muscular crashing through the trees. The Izumis are here, and Tensei and Rei, and even a handful of the ghosts following the villain. "Something useful," he murmurs. "His quirk, how does it work?"

"Muscle augmentation," Mr. Izumi answers, speaking quickly. "He can reinforce his muscles to increase his strength, durability, and speed. Nothing fancy, but he's incredibly strong and incredibly skilled with it."

"Limits," Izuku murmurs. He finds denser brush. The fire is still spreading—soon, most of the escape routes will be burning. "Stay," he says, and turns back before Kouta can argue with him.

"I'm not sure what his limit is," Mr. Izumi says. "We didn't—we didn't get the chance—"

"It's augmentation!" Mrs. Izumi calls out. A tree falls to Muscular's relentless charge. "He isn't creating, or moving, he's augmenting! He can't augment what isn't here!"

And that?

Izuku can work with that.

Muscular hits him fist-first. He tumbles back, close to where he hid Kouta. Muscular punches him again, and Izuku vomits.

"Skeletal muscle!"

He isn't sure who says that. Then his watery vision clears, and one of the ghosts is in his face, calling to him urgently. It's a woman, just young enough to still be in college.

"Only skeletal muscle!" she repeats. "He can't manipulate smooth or cardiac muscle, I'm sure of it! They're both involuntary!"

It takes a few seconds for his brain to translate words to information.

Skeletal muscle. Voluntary muscle. On his arms, his shoulders, and his trunk. Lighter on the legs—he favors punches, and less bulging muscle on his legs makes him quicker, more maneuverable.

Sprawled out on the ground, Izuku can see a clear shot to his target.

He stretches his limits to the very edge, until his own muscles burn, until he feels his bones just barely buckle under the strain. He uses Gran Torino's trick again, rebounds off any surface he can find until he finds the right angle and—

Thud.

Muscular's voice rings out with the sudden impact, pitched with rage and pain. His hand closes on Izuku's elbow. He squeezes, crushes, twists

Izuku screams until his throat is raw. Muscular flings him to the ground, and for a few moments all he can do is lie and gasp and retch with pain.

He can't move his left arm. His shoulder is a single screaming mass of agony. Muscular looms over him, stumbling a little, limping a little, slowed by Rei plunging her hands into his chest, but not quite enough—

A torrent of water crashes over his back. He whips around, his single eye alight with rage. Kouta stands behind him, trembling in terror, hands still outstretched from using his quirk.

"FUCK THE ORDERS!" Muscular roars. "YOU'RE DEAD, MIDORIYA! YOU'RE BOTH DEAD!"

"Dislocated shoulder." Tensei's voice is tight as he helps Izuku to his feet. "Midoriya—"

"Hey, so I know he's probably gonna die and that's horrifying," one of the other ghosts mutters. "But that was really fucking funny."

"I mean yeah, that kid nailed him right in the—"

At least there's that, Izuku thinks. If he's going to die here, if he's going to utterly fail to save one little boy, then at least he got in one good hit. The Water Horses did too, didn't they? They did one better than him; the proof of it is still stamped across Muscular's face—

Oh.

The plan comes to him half formed, half-baked. But it's still a plan. It's still something he can do that isn't just hurling himself uselessly at a brick wall.

He whispers it to Tensei, who nods. He hears the dead murmuring, passing it along. Someone laughs, darkly satisfied.

The strap that Yaoyorozu gave him, to hang the small gas mask from his shoulder, is long enough to use as a makeshift sling for his injured arm. His shoulder still protests sharply at him when he takes off, but he grits his teeth and forces it to the back of his mind.

This time, when Muscular grabs him out of the air by his good arm, Izuku grabs back. His fingers find purchase in the muscle fiber, and he twists—not the arm but his own body, until he's angled just right to swing his foot around.

Muscular's quirk only lets him augment the muscles that are already there. And there are no muscles in a mechanical prosthetic eye.

It works better than he could have hoped. Izuku sees sparks, hears Muscular scream as his kick forces broken metal into his face, and the painful grip on his good arm loosens. His bad shoulder sends white-hot agony straight to his brain as he grabs Muscular's shirt for purchase to pull free.

"Good shot, now get back!" someone calls to him, but Izuku does not. He keeps his grip on Muscular and tries to heave himself upward—cold, willing hands push him up from behind—and he finds himself clambering up to Muscular's shoulders, holding on for dear life as the villain heaves against him, reaches up to tear him off—

Muscular's head twists around to look at him, contorted with rage. Izuku's lips pull back from his clenched teeth, and he strikes with all the speed he can pour into his good arm.

There are no muscles over an eye socket, either.

Muscular howls.

Izuku feels the villain hurtle them both back into a tree, but he clings on grimly, and digs his thumb deeper into Muscular's eye socket. Muscular slams him again and again, the world around him dims, and his stomach turns as he gouges and twists until he feels blood spurt and pour around his hand.

Finally, Muscular catches hold of his shirt, rips him off, and flings him away, and Izuku can only sob wretchedly when he lands and jars his dislocated shoulder.

Rage and abuse pour from Muscular's mouth, the filthiest curses Izuku has ever heard, but the damage is done. The artificial eye is shattered, and the remaining real one is gone, replaced with a bloody socket. The villain's head swings this way and that as he lashes out blindly with both arms.

Izuku half runs, half crawls to Kouta's side. He unclips the gas mask from the strap and thrusts it clumsily into the boy's face, whispering put it on, put it on, frantically until Kouta fumbles it onto his head. He doesn't know how, and Izuku's hands are shaking, but Mrs. Izumi moves to help secure the mask onto her son's face.

"On my back," Izuku grits out. "Now." Too terrified to argue, Kouta obeys. His arms lock around Izuku's neck, and Izuku heaves him up, puts his own mask back on, and follows Mr. Izumi's desperate cry.

"This way! This way!"

Muscular whips around, hearing the sound of his clumsy steps, and hurtles after them. He's frightfully accurate; Izuku keeps running, dodging out of the way as the ghosts call warnings to him. The villain can't stop him from dodging, not without eyes; all he can do is hurl himself at every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush, until Izuku leads him away from the fire and back to the looping path.

The trail is empty of people when Izuku bursts out of the trees, but the gas is waist-deep and as thick as pea soup fog.

"What's—" Kouta whimpers, but Izuku hushes him.

"You can't run forever!" Muscular snarls. "Not with that arm! Not with that kid! Give up, you little bastard!"

Izuku breathes as quietly as he can, as lightly as he can even with the gas mask protecting him. Muscular is gasping, heaving with rage, spitting when the blood from his ruined eye trickles into his mouth.

And then he stumbles.

"What—" he growls. "No… Mustard—you little shit—"

He crashes to the ground. His body all but disappears in the swirling mist. In a matter of moments, all Izuku can hear is Kouta's hollow breathing, and the distant roar of flames.

"Holy shit," one of the ghost mutters. Rei takes the opportunity to kick the downed villain.

"Okay," Izuku whispers. "Okay. Cool, cool, cool, let's go."

"We'll keep an eye out for villains," Tensei tells him.

"And lead you away from the fires," Mrs. Izumi adds.

Mr. Izumi offers a weak smile. "You're taking the easy way back, got it?"

"We're sticking with him," one of Muscular's ghosts says. "Either he burns to death, or I get to see him get hauled away by the cops. Either way, I'm not missing it." The dead gather around their murderer, grim and patient and satisfied.

Izuku nods. He gives Muscular a wide berth, then carries Kouta away from the gas. It's only when the villain and the gas are far behind them that Izuku lets him down, takes off his mask and helps Kouta out of his. It's only when it's off his face that Kouta quietly breaks down in tears.

"'S okay," Izuku says, and makes a note to thank Momo properly for that strap, because the damn thing is still supporting his left arm. Awkwardly he hooks his right arm around Kouta and pulls him into a hug. "'S okay. We're okay." Kouta sobs wretchedly into his chest. "You're okay. You did good. You hear? You did so good."

"He was gonna kill you." Kouta's voice is muffled into his shirt. "He was gonna kill you, why'd you do that?"

"Someone had to," Izuku says. "No one else knew where you were. So… me."

"But—but I… I just…" Kouta pulls back, scrubbing tears from his face.

"You think I'm going to let someone kill you just because you're sad and angry and you swore at me?" Izuku asks. "Forget heroes and villains, that'd just make me an asshole."

Kouta chokes.

"I'd like to be a hero," Izuku says. "But I can start with just not being an asshole."

The noise Kouta makes is somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

"And on the practical side of things…" Izuku pauses, and glances toward the fire glow leaking through the thick trees. "Those fires are spreading. And as far as I know, the only one here with a quirk like yours is… well, you. We're gonna need your help pretty soon, I think."

Kouta's face does a funny little twitch and twist that tells Izuku he's trying not to cry again. "…Okay," he whispers.

"Alright then. Hop up, we'll get there faster if I carry you. Watch my shoulder."

To his relief, Kouta does as he asks. "It's shaped funny," he says.

"I am in so much pain right now."

Kouta's getting closer to laughter with each new shaky coughing sound he makes. "I-I didn't mean to laugh."

"Go ahead and laugh," Izuku tells him as he sets off after the ghosts. "It feels better than crying, doesn't it?"

The boy is quiet for a while, before another noise reaches him—it's almost laughter. Nearly there. "You hit him in the balls."

"Did you like that? I picked it up from you."

Kouta sobs out another laugh, and Izuku follows the ghosts out of the burning woods.

Momo is beginning to get hungry. Most of her dinner has gone into providing gas masks to everyone she meets. She doesn't know where Kendou is, but Awase-kun has been leading students to Class B's safe zone for aid. Tsunotori keeps showing up, carrying a different classmate each time; Momo's had to replace her gas mask once already.

She finds Jirou unconscious, with Aoyama staggering drunkenly under her weight until she shoves a mask at his face. Her classmate is wide-eyed with terror, all bravado forgotten; Momo practically has to shout and shake him to keep his attention from flying away in a panic.

"Get Jirou back to the facility." she says, and points in the direction Awase has been leading people. "You'll find Class B students heading that way. Hurry!"

He nods vigorously, too frazzled to speak, then scoops Jirou up and stumbles off with her. Momo watches them go, fighting the physical ache in her chest. She wants to go with them, but she can't yet, not when there are still students unaccounted for.

She runs into Awase soon after, and this time he's alone. "Any more?" he asks. "I just left some of the others. They're… they're all right."

"I can't find anyone else," she says. She purses her lips. "I think we should go."

Awase shakes his head. "But what if—"

"The longer we stay out here, the longer we risk becoming casualties ourselves," Momo tells him. "We've done what we can. We should regroup with the others."

He looks like he'd like to argue, but he sighs and nods reluctantly. "Alright. Come on, before something else—"

Somewhere to their right, a tree splits, groans, and tips over. The two of them freeze, staring at each other in faint alarm.

And then, something else groans.

Momo draws in a quiet, shuddering breath as dread solidifies in her heart, as heavy and solid as lead. She hopes against hope that isn't what she thinks it is, but luck is not on their side tonight.

She never got close to the one at the USJ. She never got the chance. From what Todoroki and Iida and Tsuyu and some of the others have told her? That's a good thing.

Slowly, they turn to look as another tree tips, and the Noumu steps out from behind it with another hoarse, creaking groan.

It took nothing less than All-Might himself to take down the one at the USJ.

"Run," Momo whispers, and this time Awase doesn't argue with her.

Aizawa Shouta races through the woods, seething.

The villain Dabi is not unfamiliar to him. Most underground heroes have seen his face in pictures, at least. It's hard to mistake it; with scars like that, he couldn't be anyone else.

Except, of course, that the one that Shouta just fought turned out to be a clone, doubtless the result of another villain's quirk.

But Shouta is willing to bet that the real one is here all the same. Dabi is powerful, ruthless, and a cold-blooded killer, and Shouta would rather face ten of the Noumu than see the bastard so much as touch one of his students.

But he's lost precious time. He needs to regroup with the Pussycats, find out where the students are, find out how many villains they're even dealing with—

"Aizawa-sensei!"

Shouta halts, and Midoriya Izuku comes hurtling out of the trees. At the sight of him, Shouta bites back a hiss. He looks like he's been hit by a train—his face may as well have been beaten with a rock, one of his eyes is swelling shut, and his clothes are torn and bloodied. His left arm is hanging in a canvas strap, and his shoulder is noticeably crooked.

Izumi Kouta clings to his back, tearstained but unhurt.

"Midoriya, what—"

His student skids to a halt in front of him, and he somehow looks even worse up close. "Hi. Did you win?"

"Did I—"

"Never mind." Midoriya crouches low and lets Kouta slide to the ground. "Sensei, I need a favor—can you take him back? I have to get to Mandalay, there's something I have to tell her, Kouta's got a water quirk, make sure nothing happens to him—" He starts to run off again, but Shouta snaps one end of his capture weapon around the arm that isn't injured.

"Midoriya, stop. Your shoulder's dislocated."

"Could be worse—"

"Midoriya."

His student turns to him, his battered face tense with desperation. "Sensei, I have to go. They're after Bakugou, maybe more of us, and I have to tell Mandalay so she can tell everyone else."

Shouta's jaw tightens. "Take the strap off," he says.

"I kind of need it or my arm flops around and it hurts like—"

"Now, Midoriya."

At his tone, Midoriya starts gingerly shrugging out of the makeshift sling. Shouta takes hold of the affected arm.

"Relax your shoulder," he says. Midoriya nods and turns his head away.

He works as quickly as he dares. He's certainly done this to himself often enough—relocating a limb is uncomfortable, but nothing like the violent wrenching he always sees in fiction. Carefully he bends Midoriya's arm at the elbow, then rotates the limb outward, pushing gently, further and further until the bone snaps back into place with an audible pop. Midoriya winces, then takes his arm back with a look of relief on his face.

"You'll have torn tissue in that shoulder," Shouta tells him. "At least try to be careful with it."

"Yes, Sensei," he says meekly. "Can I go now?"

And Shouta hates this—hates this—because he knows now that the students themselves are the targets, not their teachers this time, and he knows that that makes the facility a target that Sekijurou can't defend single-handed. And he knows that while he's agile and skilled, Midoriya's quirk makes him faster at a flat-out run.

"When you get to Mandalay," he grits out. "Tell her this— 'Members of Class A and B, I hereby authorize you for combat.'"

Midoriya's eyes widen.

"There's a choice now between breaking the law and letting these villains kill you," Shouta tells him. "It's not a choice you should have to make, so I'm making it for you."

Midoriya nods. "I'll see you when everyone's safe!" he calls back, then turns and vanishes in a burst of green lightning.

Shouta picks up Mandalay's nephew. The boy is quiet now, even quieter than he's ever been before, for all that he's crying.

"Don't worry," he says gruffly. "I'm gonna hold him to that."

Izuku finds the Pussycats in the middle of a battleground. He can only see three of them here—there's Mandalay and Tiger, protecting an injured Pixiebob while they take on one villain each. Where's Ragdoll?

She was at the checkpoint when this started, he remembers. She's probably helping the other kids escape.

He delivers his message, and leaves them to it. He's not about to get in the middle of that—no way, no how. They're pros, and he has to trust that they know what they're doing. One of the villains tries to give chase as he flees, but not for long. Izuku leaves the fight behind, and focuses on the ghosts that now fill the forest.

Let it in, Ragdoll had said. Break up all the noisy things into smaller bite-sized things.

Or, Izuku thinks. Delegate.

"Rei," he says. "Find Bakugou." She scowls at him. "Just do it, Rei, you're the fastest. No offense, Tensei."

"None taken," Iida's brother assures him. "I can help in ways she can't, anyway. Someone's bound to have seen explosions. I'll ask around."

"I will, too." Izuku turns, surprised to see the Mrs. Izumi still with him.

"Kouta's safe, thanks to you," she tells him. "My husband's with him. I'll help you in any way I can."

"Thank you," he says.

The other dead are surprisingly chatty, once they figure out Izuku can hear them. They're chatty and full of good information—all Izuku has to do is ask, who are you here with? Who else is here?

He knows about Muscular already—none of his ghosts are here. But there are ghosts: broken, bleeding people who tell him about Moonfish. Skittish teenagers, pale and haunted, who tell him about Toga Himiko.

Magne and Spinner are the ones he left fighting the Pussycats. Mustard is the one who made the gas. There are two more, Compress and Twice, that no one seems to know much about. Maybe that means they haven't killed anyone. Maybe that means they're new.

Rei comes back to him shrieking, and when Izuku turns to meet her, his heart lurches. She's pulling Hino along with her, and Izuku has never seen him look so agitated.

"There you are! I've been looking all over these damn woods for you!" Hino pulls his arm out of Rei's grip and waves for him to follow. "You're looking for Bakugou, aren't you? He's still with Shouto. They're fighting—god, I don't even know. Some maniac in a straitjacket with nightmare teeth."

"Moonfish," one of the bloody ghosts murmurs. "He's crazy—they broke him out of prison to get him to join up."

"Lead the way," Izuku says, and for once, Hino doesn't have a snide remark to offer.

He hears the explosions before he sees anything. Shortly after, he hears the familiar glacial creak and groan of Todoroki's quirk, and speeds up his pace.

At first glance, it looks like their opponent is on stilts. The villain is level with the treetops, propped up on long, branching white sticks that lead from the trees and the ice-covered ground up to…

"See?" Hino waves toward it wildly. "You see? Those are his goddamn teeth!"

"Yikes," Tensei mutters.

"Ice incoming!" Mrs. Izumi yells. "Two o'clock—move, Midoriya!"

Instead of moving away, Izuku hurtles toward the oncoming barrage and leaps upward. He lands nearly on top of the growing wedge of ice, and he jumps again, keeping his feet moving so as not to get trapped. Moonfish's teeth grow and shift with stomach-churning speed, lashing downward at what he can only assume are his friends.

Well, one friend and Bakugou.

Todoroki's ice is jagged enough for Izuku to find purchase as he rushes in, leaps, and swings his quirk-charged leg around in a wild sweeping kick.

His strike takes out Moonfish's next attack as well as half of the enamel stilts holding the villain up. Moonfish howls, mouth wide open and half-full of broken teeth.

They'll reform, Izuku thinks as he lands and slips on an iceberg. "Todoroki, hit him again! Hurry!"

He thrusts himself backward, just as his friend sends up a towering spike of ice. Frost spreads along the teeth that are still intact, until it reaches the broken ends of the rest. Moonfish's howl becomes a pained shriek.

Slipping and tumbling, Izuku makes his way down to firm ground again, and almost falls on top of Todoroki.

"Had to hurt," he gasps out, winded. "Ice on broken teeth? That's the worst."

"It won't keep him back for long," Todoroki says grimly. He's got an unconscious student on his back, a boy from Class B that Izuku doesn't recognize.

Sure enough, Moonfish's teeth grow again, streaking toward them like thin white spears. Todoroki dodges back and drags Izuku with him, not a moment too soon. One of the teeth branches into two spears, and the second tears a shallow gash into Izuku's arm.

"I hate this!" Izuku chokes out, almost drowned out by a nearby explosion. "I hate this quirk! I love quirks but I hate this quirk!"

"Yeah," Todoroki mutters, then raises his voice. "Bakugou! Watch it with those explosions or you'll set the forest on fire!"

Bakugou falls in close to them, snarling back at him."Just cover it with ice then, dumbass!"

"That'll limit our visibility!" Todoroki retorts. Moonfish attacks again, and Todoroki barely manages to shield them all. With his hands full, he can only use his feet to manipulate his quirk.

"Todoroki, give him here," Izuku says.

"What?"

"I was only able to get close because he didn't know I was there," Izuku says. "I won't get a chance like that again, and I'm only good in close quarters. I'll carry him, that'll free up your hands—will that help your precision?"

"Yeah. Thanks." While they're still shielded, Todoroki fumbles the unconscious student onto Izuku's back. He's heavier than Kouta was, and Izuku has to hold him up himself, but with Full Cowl up, he barely notices the weight.

Teeth punch through the ice, and Bakugou meets them with with an explosion. He yells as the teeth shatter, and Izuku sees why—one of them managed to score into his palm, and the blast sent enamel shards flying.

"Any suggestions?" he asks. "I'm open."

"I'm busy, Deku," Bakugou snaps, with somewhat less bite than usual. But Izuku wasn't talking to him.

"With no backup, no gear, and not enough training, there's not much you can do besides retreat," Tensei says, his voice tight.

"Is there anyway we can lead him back to the gas?" he asks.

"No good." Todoroki shakes his head. "We can't get him down far enough for it to take effect."

Izuku eyes the ghosts—Rei and Tensei, Mrs. Izumi, Hino, all the ghosts following Moonfish. It's getting crowded around here.

I can't make him afraid, Rei tells him, frustrated. He's like a black hole. Nothing touches him.

"Um, excuse me?" one of the ghosts calls out, waving from several rows back. "Someone's coming. If that changes anything."

"What?" Izuku says.

"I said we can't get him down far enough for the gas to knock him out," Todoroki repeats, while the ghost points back toward the thicker woodlands.

"Someone's coming," he says again. "Running, actually. And he's being chased."

"Oh," Izuku says faintly. "That's not good."

Todoroki shields them from another attack while Bakugou roars with frustration, then glances at Izuku again. "What's not good?"

"Uh." Izuku dithers for a moment. "I think we're about to find out?"

"What's chasing him?" Tensei calls to the speaker. The question passes from ghost to ghost in a low murmur.

"Something big?" is the hesitant reply.

"I don't think it came with us."

"It's big and dark and…"

"It's a bird? Someone said it's a bird. Who said that?"

A big, dark bird. "Tokoyami?" Izuku blurts out.

"Fuck, where?" Bakugou whips around.

"Do you hear something?" Todoroki asks.

And Izuku does. It's like wind in the distance. Pounding, howling wind, the kind that makes tree trunks bend and break.

"Tokoyami's quirk," he says faintly. "It's weak to light, remember?" He swallows hard, as the howling gets louder. "And that means the reverse is true."

"Todoroki!" It's not Tokoyami's voice that hails them. Through the darkness, Izuku sees a taller, hulking figure, running at them with six webbed arms swinging. And behind him—

"Shouji!" Todoroki calls out. "And… Tokoyami?"

"Todoroki, Bakugou!" Izuku has never heard Shouji shout before, but he does so now. "If you can, make light! Hurry!"

"We should probably get out of the way," Izuku remarks.

Several things happen at once.

Shouji catches up to them, wild-eyed and frantic. High above, Moonfish shrieks with rage, shifting his teeth toward the oncoming wall of pitch-darkness. Todoroki seizes Izuku's shirt in one hand, Bakugou's in the other, and drags them out of the way. Tokoyami and Dark Shadow come roaring in, utterly unstoppable.

Izuku doesn't quite see the clash, too disoriented from how abruptly things shifted. All he knows is the sound of trees falling and Dark Shadow roaring and Moonfish screaming, before the forest lights up with Todoroki's flames and Bakugou's explosions. It's over almost as abruptly as it began.

Moonfish is on the ground, silent and motionless. Tokoyami looks wrecked, leaning against Shouji as if he'll fall over if he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," he keeps repeating. "I'm sorry. I couldn't—I didn't mean to—"

"That villain attacked us," Shouji explains, while Tokoyami catches his breath. "It went… badly." He holds up one of his arms, showing them the bloodied stump on the end. "Don't worry, he didn't cut off anything that won't grow back. But when it happened…"

"Dark Shadow is strongest in the absence of light," Tokoyami says quietly. "But also at it's most volatile. I… I gave in to the darkness, and the rage. I apologize. I put you all in danger."

"You also kind of saved our lives," Izuku pipes up. Shouji gives him a flat look, and he shrugs. "Well he did." He glances around at them. "Everyone all right?"

"Odd, coming from you," Todoroki says dryly. "As usual, you're worse off then the rest of us put together. What even happened to you?"

"It's not that bad," Izuku assures him. "You should see the other guy." Todoroki raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. "…It's just a couple of cracked ribs. And extensive bruising. And a dislocated shoulder—but Aizawa-sensei fixed that!"

"And your hand?" Shouji asks.

"Huh?"

His classmate points. "Your right hand's even bloodier than the rest of you. Did you injure it?"

Izuku glances down. "Uh. No. That's… that's not mine." He shakes his head. "I'll tell you all about it when this is over, but we're not out of the woods yet. You all heard Mandalay's message, right?"

"Yes," Todoroki answers. Bakugou scowls.

"Message?" Tokoyami steps away from Shouji to stand on his own. "I was… preoccupied. What did she say?"

"We've been authorized for combat," Todoroki tells him. "And the villains are here to capture Bakugou."

"We'll be safest back at the facility, where Blood King and Aizawa-sensei are," Shouji says.

"Right." Tokoyami nods. "Our mission from here should be to escort Bakugou, then?"

"Hey—" Bakugou snaps.

"We can't go back to the clearing where we started," Izuku says. "The Pussycats are still fighting villains there, so we'll get spotted for sure. It'd be better to cut through the woods, take the straightest path."

"We have no way of knowing how many villains there are along the way," Todoroki points out. "Going through the woods puts us at risk of ambush."

"I don't—" Bakugou starts.

"I can detect enemies," Shouji says.

"I'm no slouch myself," Izuku adds, eyeing Tensei and Rei. The latter flashes him a thumbs-up. "Add to that the fact that we still have Tokoyami, and a way to control his quirk if we have to, I think we're good."

"On that note, I can carry Tsubaraba," Shouji offers.

Izuku blinks. "Who?"

"...The Class B student on your back."

"Oh," Izuku says sheepishly. "He's, um, not that heavy actually."

"But the weight distribution makes him awkward to carry," Shouji replies. "I'm larger—he won't hamper me as much."

And… okay, yeah, that's reasonable. Carefully, Izuku passes Tsubaraba over.

"Are any of you fuckers going to listen to what I have to say?" Bakugou bursts out.

"No," says Todoroki.

"Not particularly," says Tokoyami.

With Bakugou in the middle of them, they set off swiftly through the woods.

Even with the closest ghosts watching out for him, Izuku keeps an eye on the spirits beyond that. He can watch them for reactions, for sudden movements, anything to indicate that something or someone is coming.

The gas has mostly dissipated by now—hopefully that means that Mustard is out of the fight. The fires still burn, spreading steadily from the original point. The walk is silent, and the tightness of dread continues to coil and twist in Izuku's chest.

They've almost crossed to the left path when Rei shrieks a warning from behind.

Izuku doesn't think. He turns, sees an unfamiliar villain drop in behind them. He yells on instinct—not words, just an inarticulate shout of alarm—as the masked man reaches toward Bakugou and Tokoyami without a sound.

He sees Bakugou spin around, one palm already detonating as it swings around blindly. Shouji grabs him by the back of the shirt and yanks him out of the villain's reach.

"Run!" Izuku yells.

"I can take him—" Bakugou starts to say.

"Run!" Izuku repeats, and the five of them burst out of the trees and onto the path.

Izuku nearly crashes straight into Tsuyu. "Asui, run!" he urges. "There's a villain… behind us…"

His voice trails off as he accidentally locks eyes with Toga Himiko. Uraraka stares at him, wide-eyed with shock.

"Oh," he says. "Balls."

Toga's face lights up with glee, and she looks past him to her fellow villain. "You found him, Mr. Compress!" she squeals, her voice pitched with eerie joy. "Ohhhh look at him, he's even cuter than he is in the picture!"

That's easily the most horrifying thing anyone has ever said about him.

Voices call to him, high and desperate and nearly deafening. Izuku tries to turn around—he really tries his best. The last thing he sees is Tsuyu's face before the world around him goes pitch-black and very, very small.

The Noumu is about to kill them when, without warning, it halts. Its many arms vanish, and it turns away from Momo and Awase as if abruptly losing interest. The two of them watch, barely breathing, as the hulking thing slowly shambles away through the ruined woods.

"What's going on?" Awase's voice trembles. "What—why did it—"

Momo struggles to stand, but in the end she has to settle for kneeling. "Those things are mindless," she says. "They only take orders—they don't think for themselves. If it's stopped, then that means someone told it to."

"It's retreating," Awase says grimly.

"Then the villains are, too," Momo says. She's lightheaded from using too much of her quirk, but still the beginnings of one last plan are weaving together in her mind. "Either they lost, or…" She doesn't finish that thought. Instead, she reaches into the palm of her hand and creates one last object. "Awase-kun. Your quirk—it lets you weld things together, right?"

"Y-yeah."

"Good." Momo presses the object into his hand. "I need you to do something for me."

One moment Midoriya is there, and the next he's gone. Shouto blinks, and when he opens his eyes, the masked villain is springing back, clutching two tiny marbles in his hand.

"Objective complete," he says. "Hurry back, Ms. Toga." And then he's gone.

"Nice meeting you, Uraraka, Tsutsu!" the villain girl chirps. "Gotta go! See you all soon!" Shouto lunges after her, but Uraraka grabs him and pulls him back.

"Leave her!" she yells. "He's getting away with Deku and Bakugou!"

His teeth grind until he feels the tension aching in his skull. "Which way?" he spits out.

"Over the trees," Shouji answers, pointing. "He's fast—and bypassing the fires, as well. We'll never catch him."

"Yes we will!" Shouto snaps, and takes a step to pursue.

"On foot," Shouji amends. "We'll never catch him on foot."

"We won't catch him by standing around here, either, so hurry—"

"Wait!" Uraraka's hand closes on his shoulder again. "Wait! Waitwaitwait. Just—what would Deku do? He'd come up with a plan, right?"

"He isn't here right now, Uraraka," Shouto grits out.

"You can go over the trees, too!" she snaps back, matching his tone volume for volume. "My quirk, remember? I can make you all float. Can you and Tokoyami use your quirks to move forward?"

"Possibly," Tokoyami answers. "I'm not sure I quite trust Dark Shadow at the moment."

"That's okay." Asui is lisping a little. There's blood around her mouth, and when she sticks out her tongue, Shouto can see the cut on it. "That's okay. I can throw you. Shouji, can you use your arms to glide?"

"I think so—here, someone else take him then." Shouji lowers Tsubaraba into Uraraka's hands. They move quickly, tense with quiet desperation. Shouto latches on to one of Shouji's arms, Tokoyami to another. Uraraka dispels the gravity on them, and Asui's tongue wraps tightly around them. There's no time for well-wishes. Asui lifts them up, whirls them like a discus thrower, and lets them fly.

Wind rushes past them, and the trees below pass in a single dark blur. Shouto narrows his eyes against the rush of air, and sees the shape of the villain creep closer and closer as their speed and lightened weight closes the distance between them.

"Look for the marbles!" he yells, pitching his voice above the wind in their ears. "That villain—she called him Compress! That must be his quirk!"

"I know!" Shouji answers. "They're in his coat pocket—I saw him slip them in!"

"Brace yourselves!" Tokoyami calls out, and the three of them cannon into the villain just as he leaps back down to the forest floor. The man skids to a halt flat on his face. A moment later Shouto feels gravity return, crushing him into the dirt beneath their combined weight.

Satisfaction vanishes when he looks up and finds them surrounded by what he can only assume are the rest of the invading villains. Two of them look battered and injured, but most still look fresh. They even have a Noumu, towering but docile as it awaits orders. The girl from before is there, eyes lighting up at the sight of them. She springs forward with a knife in her hand, eyes burning with feverish delight.

"Hi again!" she chirps. "You're back!" That's all she has time to say before Dark Shadow slams into her with a roar, knocking her back.

"Compress," a cold voice speaks up. "Heads up." The temperature in the air skyrockets.

"Move!" Shouto yells, and throws himself out of the way of the oncoming firestorm. It's the same color as the signal fire that started this, a deep and violent red.

"It's fine!" he hears Shouji call. He looks over and finds his classmate clutching two marbles. "I've got them! Just go!"

The words are barely out of his mouth when the marbles burst, and a pile of branches appears in their place and clatter to the ground.

"Clever of you." Compress is on his feet. Behind him, a pitch-black warp gate opens, and one by one the villains vanish through it. "I was afraid that might happen. So I kept a few decoys." He smiles, jaw opening, and shows off the marbles balanced on his tongue. "Farewell. Don't worry—they'll be well taken care of." He steps back, and Shouto braces himself to hurl himself at him for one last desperate attempt.

(He can't see, of course. None of them can—the only one of them who would is trapped in one of those marbles. He can't see the little girl who followed them, the angry little girl with a pale face and dark, dark eyes, who moves faster than he could ever hope to.

He doesn't see her swinging her hand with with all the helpless anger of a murdered child, striking the man across the face for stealing her little brother.)

The marbles fly from the villain's mouth. Shouto lunges toward one, Tokoyami toward the other.

He feels cold—from his prickling skin to the marrow of his bones, as if someone in the distant future dances on his grave. He sees Compress falter and choke, as if suffocated in perfectly good air. His quirk wavers, and the marbles burst.

Bakugou appears with a gasp, only a few feet from Dark Shadow's reaching claws.

Midoriya comes out screaming.

The sound drills into his head, but Shouto reaches toward him—he's close, he's nearly there—

The heat hits him again, and the villain's flames nearly obliterate Dark Shadow before it can reach Bakugou. Bakugou vanishes again, into another of Compress's marbles, and the villain flees through the portal before anyone can stop him. Shouto's fingertips nearly brush Midoriya's hand when the last villain catches his friend's shoulder and drags him back into the still-open gate.

Cold blue eyes meet his, and the villain's disfigured face crawls into a smile. "Too slow," he says. "Such a shame, Todoroki Shouto."

One last burst of speed, and Shouto's hand closes around Midoriya's just as the scarred villain vanishes. More hands appear out of the portal, grabbing Midoriya's shoulders, his arms, even a handful of his hair, and yank him into the black. Midoriya vanishes, and the gate swallows Shouto's arm up to the elbow.

He clings on grimly, with no leverage, no weight, nothing to keep them from dragging him through, but so be it. Whatever's on the other side, he isn't letting go.

Another hand closes around his arm, hard and cruel and mercilessly tight. It squeezes, pulls, twists—

Pain shoots through his wrist, his hand goes numb, and he's thrust back out of the shrinking gate with enough force to throw him to the ground.

The portal closes.

And all is silent.