Kurokami didn't do the finishing blow, I know. Also, did y'all get the reference with Bakugo and Kuro before fighting Shigaraki? It's a Goku and Vegeta reference.
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As Kuro and Todoroki walked over to Bakugo, their bodies worn from the fight but their spirits still high, Todoroki congratulated Bakugo with his usual stoic tone, "Good job. You beat it."
Kuro, on the other hand, was practically buzzing with excitement. The battle with Nomu had ignited something in him—a thrill he could barely contain. Despite being exhausted, he couldn't help but smile as he helped Bakugo limp towards the others, almost as if the fatigue hadn't registered yet.
"That was amazing!" Kuro grinned, his face practically glowing as he supported Bakugo. "That Nomu was tough, but we pulled through!"
"Tch," Bakugo grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Quit babbling, we ain't done yet."
As they began to move, Shigaraki—the hooded villain who had been watching from the shadows—gritted his teeth. He slowly started decaying the ice that held Kurogiri captive. The misty villain, still trapped, apologized weakly, "Forgive me, Young Master. I've failed you."
But to Kurogiri's surprise, Shigaraki didn't respond with his usual temper tantrum or frustration. Instead, his voice was calm, almost unnervingly so. "It's fine, Kurogiri. Just get us out of here..."
Kurogiri, wide-eyed, obeyed without hesitation, summoning a portal. As they stepped through it, Shigaraki muttered with an eerie calmness, "I want the names of every one of those kids when we get back. Every single one." The portal closed, leaving the scene of destruction behind.
Suddenly, All Might's iconic voice echoed through the remains of the USJ, cutting through the smoke and tension like a beacon of hope.
"I AM HERE!"
His booming entrance, however, was cut short as he took in the scene before him—the devastation, the injured students, the overworked Aizawa barely able to stand, and the near-complete destruction surrounding them. Space Hero 13 lay injured, and Aizawa was clearly on the verge of collapsing. But the worst was the battlefield that resembled a carpet-bombed warzone, evidence of the intense struggle his students had faced.
Kuro, who had been carrying Bakugo just moments before, suddenly collapsed to the ground, his energy completely drained from overworking his quirk. Bakugo, also unable to walk any further, slumped next to him.
Todoroki, looking at Kuro's motionless form, turned to Bakugo. "Did he... fall asleep?" he asked, somewhat perplexed.
"Hell no, icy bastard!" Bakugo growled. "He's out 'cause that idiot overworked himself using that damn quirk of his. Now I'm stuck with him," he added with an annoyed snarl.
Just then, Izuku Midoriya approached, extending a hand to help Bakugo to his feet. For a brief moment, Bakugo looked at Izuku's outstretched hand—a strange expression flickering across his face, a mix of exhaustion and something unspoken.
But then, with his characteristic defiance, Bakugo smacked the hand away and forced himself to stand. "I don't need your help, Deku!" he barked, stumbling slightly but managing to stay upright through sheer force of will.
Despite the harsh words, Izuku smiled. That was the Bakugo he knew—the stubborn, prideful, never-gonna-ask-for-help Bakugo. Strangely, it was comforting.
Meanwhile, Ochaco Uraraka, Mina Ashido, and Toru Hagakure made their way over to the group. Ochaco, always trying to lighten the mood, suggested they take a class photo. "It'll help us remember we survived this!"
Bakugo, still sore and agitated, turned his head with a sneer. "Who the hell's dumb enough to think a photo's a good idea right now?!"
Ochaco opened her mouth to admit it was her idea, but remembering how Bakugo's nickname for her—Kirby—had started sticking, she wisely decided to keep quiet.
Iida, ever the voice of reason, chimed in, "It's good for us to relax and decompress after such an intense situation, Bakugo." But Bakugo wasn't having any of it.
"Shut up, Glasses! You weren't even fighting!" he snapped, his words cutting deep. Iida, despite wanting to argue, held back. It was true—he had been racing for help while his classmates fought for their lives.
With everyone gathered around, Aizawa approached, leaning heavily on crutches and sporting bandages and bruises. His eyes, normally sharp and cold, softened as he took in the sight of his class. He was silent for a moment, and then, in his dry tone, he finally spoke:
"As your teacher, I should say you all handled this poorly..."
The students tensed.
"...but as people... Thank you for staying alive."
His words, though simple, held a deep weight that none of them had expected. It was a rare display of emotion from their normally stoic teacher.
Kirishima, ever the emotional one, teared up. "That's... that's so manly!" he exclaimed, overcome by the raw sincerity of Aizawa's words. Mina patted him on the back, laughing lightly. "You're such a sap, Kirishima."
All Might approached next, looking the group over. His face, though still carrying his signature smile, showed the strain of worry. His eyes lingered on Kuro's unconscious form and the charred remains of Nomu.
His mind raced with thoughts. That thing... Nomu is a creature with multiple quirks. It couldn't be. Could it? Was All For One truly back? He kept his concerns to himself, though, not wanting to alarm the students further. But the thought gnawed at him like a festering wound.
...
Kuro woke up to the sound of birds chirping softly outside the window. As he blinked away the haze of sleep, he quickly realized that he was once again in the infirmary. The sterile smell of the room was familiar, almost comforting in a way, but what surprised him most was how amazing he felt. Despite everything that had happened, he felt stronger.
"Could getting beaten half to death make me stronger?" Kuro mused, thinking back to the intense battle against Nomu and how his body had been pushed beyond its limits.
Just as he was reflecting on the fight, Recovery Girl entered the room, her footsteps light but her expression stern. Kuro greeted her with his usual enthusiasm, waving from his bed.
"Good morning, Doc!" he said with a grin.
Recovery Girl sighed, pulling up a stool beside his bed. "You're quite the handful, Kurokami," she said. "Your injuries were rather grave. Fractures all over, a serious concussion, and your body was almost completely battered. Healing you was… not easy."
Kuro patted himself down as if to make sure all his limbs were still in place, laughing lightly. "Guess I have a naturally strong body!" he said, clearly pleased with himself.
The nurse gave him a stern look, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "You're lucky. But I have to say, you've healed remarkably well. Your friends are each in their wards recovering, but you're ready to be discharged."
Kuro nodded, relieved that his friends were okay, but a different thought had begun swirling in his mind. A curiosity. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he wanted to test something. He had been thinking about it since the battle, but now seemed like the perfect time.
As Recovery Girl left to check on the other students, Kuro got up from the bed, stretching out his arms and legs. His muscles felt strong, no soreness, no fatigue. He focused, trying to tap into the Ki that flowed through his body. Using the same technique he had practiced for walking up walls, Kuro wondered if he could take it a step further.
He bent his knees slightly and then, with a slight push, Kuro found himself floating just inches above the ground. His eyes widened in surprise, excitement bubbling up inside him. He tried to move forward but immediately lost his balance and fell flat on his face.
"Okay, okay... maybe not flight just yet..." Kuro muttered, rubbing his nose.
But the fact that he had managed to float, even for a moment, thrilled him. He got back up and started experimenting again. He could stand in the air, more like balancing on an invisible platform than true flight, but it was progress. Every time he tried, he got a little better at controlling his balance.
Hours passed, and Kuro remained in the infirmary, training. He wasn't content with just walking out of the hospital. No, if he could master this ability, he'd be that much closer to becoming the hero he wanted to be—or, as he liked to say, the "Hero" he was going to be.
"Soon..." Kuro thought, as he stood in midair once again, wobbling slightly but maintaining his balance, "I'll be flying for real."
The door to the infirmary opened again, and this time, Momo Yaoyorozu and Izuku Midoriya peeked inside, only to see Kuro floating awkwardly a few feet above the ground, his face lit up with determination. They exchanged confused looks.
"Kuro, what… are you doing?" Momo asked cautiously.
Kuro grinned from ear to ear, not breaking concentration. "I'm mastering flight, obviously!" he declared proudly, despite his current, rather ungraceful appearance.
Izuku laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Of course you are..."
Kuro followed Izuku and Momo out of his ward, finally released from the infirmary after hours of practicing his strange new floating ability. As they walked down the hallway, Momo turned to him with a curious expression.
"So, how exactly are you flying, Kuro?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She had seen a lot of things since enrolling at U.A., but Kuro's floating feat had her genuinely puzzled.
Kuro's eyes lit up as if he'd been waiting for this question. "It's simple!" he said, with his usual enthusiasm. "I just imagined an invisible step beneath my feet! I stand on it, and boom, I float!"
Momo blinked, clearly unimpressed. "That... doesn't conform to the laws of physics or any logical way your quirk should work," she pointed out, always the logical thinker.
Before Kuro could defend his bizarre explanation, Izuku chimed in from the other side. "Honestly, Momo, logic doesn't apply to him." He chuckled. "Kuro just... makes his own rules."
Kuro grinned, taking Izuku's comment as the highest praise. "See? Exactly! Reality bends for me," he added, still floating just an inch off the ground, barely wobbling.
The three continued down the hallway, soon arriving at the main ward where many of their classmates were resting after the Nomu battle. The atmosphere lightened instantly as they joined the others. Aizawa, seated in the corner with his trademark sleepy expression, kept a close watch but, for once, allowed the group a bit of chatting time.
Laughter echoed through the room as the students talked about the events that had transpired, their quirks, and plans for future training. Even though they were recovering, the weight of what had happened still lingered in the back of their minds. But for now, Aizawa let them have this moment of peace. He knew they'd earned it.
A few days later, in the late afternoon, Shoto Todoroki sat in the back of a luxurious limousine, his usual cold, emotionless expression masking the slight unease he felt. Today's class had a different vibe—an underlying excitement was palpable around the school as if something big was about to happen. And yet, there was something else gnawing at him, though he couldn't quite place it.
As the limo pulled up in front of his house, Todoroki thanked his family's butler and stepped out. His home was, as always, a grand, traditional Japanese mansion, its architecture rich with history and luxury. It was, after all, the home of the No. 2 Hero—Endeavor.
Walking inside, Todoroki's usual calm demeanor shifted when he spotted something unexpected—a bubbly black-haired teen standing in front of him. Todoroki's eyes widened with a mix of shock and slight fear.
"Hehe, but you didn't expect me, mortal—I mean Todoroki," came the voice of Kurokami Tenshin, who was standing in the hallway with a playful grin, almost slipping into his usual "god" persona.
Todoroki's mind raced. "Why are you here?" he asked flatly, his shock fading into a cool irritation.
Kuro, still grinning, shrugged nonchalantly. "You've ignored every class activity, Todoroki. We even have our room now! So naturally, I came to bother you. Iida said sending me over here would be punishment enough. Not sure what he meant by that, though.**"
Todoroki sighed inwardly, silently cursing Iida for the inconvenient decision. Of course, Kuro would be the one to show up at his doorstep.
Without much choice, Todoroki opened the door wider, reluctantly allowing Kuro to enter his home. "I see... well, come in." He motioned Kuro inside, already dreading whatever chaos this would bring.
As the two stepped into the grand halls of the Todoroki residence, Kuro's eyes lit up as he took in the impressive architecture. "Whoa, this place is like a palace! I could set up my throne right here."
Todoroki gave Kuro a sidelong glance, deadpanning, "Let's... not do that."
Kuro, as usual, didn't seem fazed. "Alright, alright. So, what's up with you skipping out on the class stuff? You know, being mysterious is cool and all, but not if you miss out on all the fun."
Todoroki's expression hardened slightly, but he kept walking. "I just don't have time for unnecessary distractions," he replied coolly.
Kuro smirked, following along without missing a beat. "Is that what you call building friendships? Unnecessary? I bet even gods need friends," he said with a chuckle, already making himself comfortable in the house as if he lived there.1
Todoroki sighed. This was going to be a long day.
As they moved deeper into the house, the tension between the two began to ease. Todoroki found it oddly... refreshing to have someone as relentless and carefree as Kuro around, despite how annoying he could be. Perhaps... this wasn't so bad after all.
As the fleeting thought of this visit not being too bad crossed Todoroki's mind, it vanished almost as quickly as it came. As he and Kurokami walked down the hallway, they passed a room where Todoroki immediately stiffened, his gaze catching the large figure ahead.
Endeavour, his father, stood in front of them, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was clear that he had just finished another intense training session, as usual.
Normally, Todoroki would silently pass by his father or brace himself for yet another heated argument over anything and everything. But with Kurokami around—his first real friend visiting his home—Todoroki made a decision. This time, he would try to act like a normal family member, if only for appearances.
In a rare moment of civility, Todoroki greeted Endeavour, addressing him stiffly as "Father" with a deliberate formality. Kuro, watching this exchange with wide eyes, smiled brightly, oblivious to the tension. "Aw, a father-son moment!" he mused aloud, clearly excited to see something resembling familial bonding.
Just as Todoroki thought they might escape without further interaction, Endeavour's gruff voice filled the hallway. "After you eat, come with me to train."
Todoroki's heart sank. He loathed training with his father. It was always more than just physical—there was an unspoken weight to every exercise, every punch, every flame.
He couldn't bear the idea of pretending to be normal while enduring whatever his father had planned. But as much as he wanted to ignore him, he knew he couldn't. Without responding, Todoroki simply continued walking and led Kuro to the living room.
Once they arrived in the living room, Todoroki turned to Kuro, his expression serious. "Sit still. Don't touch anything. I'll be back in a minute," he instructed, his voice flat but firm. Kuro nodded obediently, settling onto one of the luxurious couches, glancing around at the opulent décor.
Todoroki made his way back to confront Endeavour, his mind racing. He hated this feeling—the tension, the pretense, the fact that he couldn't just enjoy having a friend over without the looming shadow of his father.
Endeavor was always overbearing, and Todoroki was bracing himself for what could turn into another confrontation. Just act normal... even though he should have some shame, right?
As Todoroki left the room, Kuro sat quietly for a moment, but his sharp senses soon picked up a delightful aroma wafting through the air. His nose twitched. Something smelled good, and Kuro's curiosity was piqued.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Fuyumi Todoroki was busy preparing dinner. She hummed softly as she moved around the kitchen, her phone sitting nearby. A notification blinked—messages from her brothers. Shoto had sent her simple, direct texts, but it was clear from the tone: Shoto had finally brought a friend home!
Fuyumi's heart swelled with pride. She had always worried about Shoto and his isolated nature, especially with their... less-than-ideal family situation. But now, he had a friend over, and she saw it as an opportunity to create some happy memories—something their household lacked.
Determined to make the evening special, Fuyumi decided that she would cook one of Shoto's favorites—yakitori.2
Simple but comforting. She flipped through her cookbook, tracing her fingers over the well-worn pages, memories flooding back to her. Mom had helped her make this very cookbook years ago, teaching her everything she knew. The thought brought a bittersweet smile to her face.
No, no, focus on happy times, Fuyumi reminded herself, shaking away the melancholic thoughts. She couldn't let herself get caught up in the past—not now. She was going to make this dinner special for Shoto and his guests. As she read through the recipe, she committed to making sure everything was perfect.
Back in the living room, Kuro sat for a few minutes before his patience (and hunger) wore thin. He stood up, drawn to the kitchen by the mouthwatering scent of yakitori. With his usual lack of restraint, Kuro peeked around the corner, poking his head into the kitchen where Fuyumi was working.
"Yo! Something smells amazing!" Kuro exclaimed, his voice startling Fuyumi, who turned around with wide eyes.
She quickly composed herself, smiling at the enthusiastic teen. "Oh, hello there! You must be Shoto's friend," Fuyumi greeted warmly, setting down her cooking utensils.
"That's me! Kurokami Tenshin, at your service!" Kuro declared with a dramatic bow, his grin ever present. "And you must be Todoroki's older sister? Wow, you cook too? You're a hero in your own right!"
Fuyumi chuckled at his energy. "I do what I can. I'm just making something simple for dinner—yakitori. I figured I'd make something nice since Shoto brought you over. It's not every day he invites a friend."
"Yakitori? Oh man, you're spoiling me already!" Kuro practically drooled at the thought of food. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Fuyumi found herself smiling at his antics.3
Just then, the sound of a door sliding open broke the light-hearted atmosphere. Kuro and Fuyumi both turned to see Endeavour standing in the doorway, his towering presence instantly filling the room with tension. His intense gaze landed on Kuro, then on Fuyumi.
"What's going on here?" he demanded, his deep voice sending a chill through the room.
Fuyumi quickly stood straight, nervously explaining, "Just making dinner, Father. Shoto's friend is here, so I thought—"
"Friend?" Endeavour's eyes locked onto Kuro with a scrutinizing stare. Kuro, unfazed, met the gaze head-on with a grin.
"Yep! That's me. A pleasure to meet the number two hero in person! I've heard a lot about you," Kuro said, his tone overly friendly, almost mocking without meaning to.
Todoroki, who had just returned from the hallway, froze when he saw the scene unfolding in the kitchen. His heart sank, realizing things might take a turn for the worse.
Endeavour's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it seemed like he would say something cutting. But instead, he simply grunted and turned away. "After dinner, we train, Shoto," he said coldly before walking off.
The tension slowly eased as Endeavour left the room. Fuyumi let out a quiet sigh of relief, while Kuro gave a low whistle.
"Wow, your dad's intense. No wonder you're such a powerhouse," Kuro said, looking back at Todoroki.
Todoroki, who was still processing the situation, nodded stiffly. "Let's just... have dinner," he muttered, leading Kuro and Fuyumi back to the dining area.
As they sat down to eat, the atmosphere remained tense, but with Kuro's infectious energy and Fuyumi's warmth, things began to feel a little more bearable.
...
As Shoto, Fuyumi, and Kuro sat down at the dinner table, the silence was palpable, tension hanging in the air like a thick cloud. Kuro, however, seemed completely oblivious to the atmosphere, casually glancing around the room with his usual carefree demeanor.
Shoto, sensing that something needed to break the tension, was about to explain some things about his family to Kuro, but then he noticed something odd. Kuro had been staring—intensely—at Fuyumi for a while now.
Fuyumi, clearly uncomfortable under Kuro's unwavering gaze, subtly tapped Shoto's leg under the table, silently pleading for some assistance. Shoto, however, misread the situation entirely.
Why was she asking for help? This was good, wasn't it? After all, Kuro often stared at people in this exact way. He did it with Kirishima, Bakugo, and even Izuku before—it just meant he was remembering her face, engraving her features into his mind. Perfectly normal, right?4
But for Kuro, there was something else going on entirely. Fuyumi seemed... familiar. It was her white hair, her calm demeanor—something about her tugged at a memory buried deep within him. He couldn't quite place it, but he knew he'd seen someone like her before. It gnawed at him, this strange feeling of nostalgia.
Meanwhile, Fuyumi's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Why won't he stop staring? She shifted in her seat, growing increasingly flustered under Kuro's unblinking gaze.
Just as the tension reached a breaking point, the doorbell rang, providing her with the perfect excuse to escape. Fuyumi practically leaped out of her seat, rushing to answer the door as if her life depended on it.
As she disappeared from the room, Shoto turned to Kuro, his face a mix of mild confusion and concern. "That... seemed weirdly aggressive, don't you think?"
Kuro, still distracted by his thoughts, shrugged it off. "Nah, she's probably just excited. Maybe it's another pro hero or something! Ooh, what if it's All Might?"
Shoto, used to Kuro's odd way of seeing the world, simply nodded. He wasn't about to question Kuro's logic right now.
As they sat there in a lull of conversation, Kuro suddenly decided to practice his floating technique, balancing himself awkwardly on invisible steps, while Shoto absentmindedly started making tiny ice sculptures on the table.
A few minutes later, the door opened again, and Shoto was suddenly pulled into a tight hug. Startled, he struggled for a second before realizing who it was—his older brother, Natsuo.
"Shoto!" Natsuo exclaimed, pulling back just enough to inspect his younger brother. "Are you okay? I heard about what happened at the USJ. As soon as I found out, I came back to check on you."
Shoto, slightly stiff but appreciating the concern, nodded. "I'm fine, Natsuo. Kuro took most of the hits, actually."
Kuro, hearing his name, waved enthusiastically from across the room, clearly not letting his recent injuries dampen his spirits. "Still alive! No worries!" he called out with a grin.
Natsuo took a moment to process the sight of Kuro, his wide-eyed gaze and small, almost childlike stature a stark contrast to the weight of his reputation. This was the guy who fought off villains? But seeing as he was Shoto's guest, Natsuo decided to roll with it.
"So, uh... what's for dinner?" Natsuo asked, looking over at Fuyumi, who was still nervously standing by the door. Realizing she had completely forgotten about the meal in all the chaos, Fuyumi gasped, her face turning red as she dashed off to the kitchen.
Natsuo, sensing the opportunity to have a private conversation with Shoto, smiled slyly. "Hey, Kuro, think you could go help my sister in the kitchen?"
Before Fuyumi could protest, Kuro was already on his feet, bounding toward the kitchen with a gleeful "I'm on it!"
As Kuro disappeared, Natsuo turned back to Shoto, the lightness of the moment quickly fading as a serious expression took over his face. A heavy silence hung between them for a few moments before Natsuo finally spoke. "So... how's he doing?"
Shoto didn't need to ask who Natsuo was referring to. His eyes darkened slightly as he glanced down at the table. "Endeavour's still the same."
Natsuo scowled at the mention of their father. "That bastard." His voice was low, filled with barely contained anger. "He'll never change, will he?"5
Shoto sighed, not wanting to dwell on it right now. "Look, just... for today, can you pretend? At least while Kuro's here."
Natsuo's frown softened, and he chuckled lightly. "Of course. Unlike a certain excuse for a father, I have a heart." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he tried to push thoughts of Endeavour to the back of his mind.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Fuyumi was frantically trying to get everything back on track. She moved quickly from the stove to the counter, assembling dishes with a nervous energy, clearly flustered by the day's events.
Kuro, however, seemed utterly unfazed by the chaos. He watched her for a moment, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You need any help? I can, uh... cut things? Stir things? Eat things?" He offered, bouncing on his heels like a hyperactive kid.
Fuyumi gave a strained smile, trying to focus on the task at hand. "I'm fine, really. Just... sit tight." She glanced over her shoulder at him, still finding it hard to believe how intense his stare had been earlier. Now, though, he seemed almost innocent in his curiosity, like a kid in a candy store.
"You know, you remind me of someone," Kuro suddenly said, his voice breaking the quiet. Fuyumi turned to him, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Someone I used to know... but I can't remember who. Your white hair, it's so... nostalgic."
Fuyumi blinked, a little taken aback by the comment. Did Kuro know their mother? No, that couldn't be. It was probably just a coincidence, but still... the mention of nostalgia stirred something in her as well. She brushed the thought aside, focusing on dinner.
Just as she was about to ask Kuro what he meant, the door to the kitchen slid open, and both Shoto and Natsuo entered, interrupting the moment.
"Dinner ready?" Natsuo asked his tone light but his eyes still holding a bit of the tension from their previous conversation.
"Almost!" Fuyumi called, turning back to the stove.
As everyone gathered around the table, the tension from earlier seemed to dissipate, at least for now. Natsuo and Fuyumi kept the conversation light, while Kuro's boundless energy filled the room with a strange, but welcome, warmth.
Even Shoto, despite the lingering heaviness in his chest, allowed himself to relax, just a little. For now, things seemed okay.
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[Auther: Yo. Nice to cya! I've got more time to write so chapters will be coming out sooner, I'm start a Patreon. Time to milk my stories!]
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