(cw: character death, potential child death)

Sorahiko stares down at the twitching Nomu by his feet. Curved, jagged teeth pop off smoking gums like buttons on a fabric that's been stretched too thin. They bounce and clatter away, and Sorahiko tracks them with his eyes until they disappear into the darkness.

"Eesh," he mutters, shaking his head and using his boot to lift up what remains of the Nomu's face. "You really are falling apart, aren't ya? Not a pretty sight to see."

He turns away, leaving the quickly decaying creature to the other heroes on the scene. If he held more empathy for these things, maybe he'd feel a little bit upset by how brutal the Nomu is now meeting its end, but as it stands, Sorahiko really couldn't care less about their feelings at all.

If they even have feelings, which he doubts.

Taking just a moment to look at everything around him, he decides that everything has ultimately gone to shit. The whole city is in shambles, and with what occurred tonight, things won't be getting better anytime soon, he knows.

This is just like how it used to be, back when there were no such things as a Symbol of Peace or a Pillar of Hope. Back when there wasn't even a strong system of heroes.

After this incident, criminals will only become more aggressive and daring than ever before.

All of the stuff that he and Nana worked to fix... it'll all slowly start going down the drain, and Sorahiko can't let that happen.

He can't continue to lie in wait anymore.

There were six Nomu in total, and even one proved to be a hell of a lot of trouble for Sorahiko, which is a problem. Endeavor, even with all of his firepower, was getting a little overwhelmed back there.

So if more of these creatures come out in the future to attack again, in a time when they'll probably be even stronger, even more intelligent, who knows what level of destruction they'll bring about then. They have to nip this in the bud. Now. Before things worsen.

He guesses it was a good time to come out of retirement after all.

The very dead, human body of a pro hero he's not familiar with lying in the middle of the road is proof of that. Sorahiko grimaces, nose wrinkling as the smell of death hits his nose already. It looks to have been a quick end, judging by how the only major injury to the body is the missing head.

And where is the head? Sorahiko doesn't see it yet. The Nomu didn't eat it, did it?

"Sir, he–he's over... he's..." A boy with dark blue hair struggles to properly tell Sorahiko what he's thinking. His suit of armor, which must have been previously white and pristine, is splattered with blood that's still dripping down the polished material as he walks over to the pro hero. "The Hero Killer, sir. In the alley. And... Native. He..."

Iida Tenya, right? That's who this is. Sorahiko remembers his name from the Sports Festival. He fought against Midoriya during the final rounds and was pretty damn close to beating him. And that last name of yours... how weird of you to be here now, kid.

Before he can respond or do much of anything, two medics are darting forward to block Iida and direct him over to the ambulance that's rounding the corner. It casts the street in bright shades of blue and red, and Sorahiko simply squints and walks to where Iida was pointing.

Stepping inside the dark alleyway, Sorahiko is greeted with Stain tied up and leaning against the brick wall, unconscious. He looks like he's seen better days, and Sorahiko can't help but feel a little satisfied despite everything else. At least one good thing came out of tonight.

He studies Stain briefly before glancing over to his right, locking eyes with the missing head he was searching for. It must've rolled here after the Nomu took off with Midoriya.

What a damn shame. You looked like you had plenty of years left, kid.

He turns away to allow the other heroes to take care of the remains properly, cape swishing in the night air. While he knows the boy was a pro hero and was surely aware of the risks associated with his job, Sorahiko can't help but sigh. His death was a sacrifice that should never have been needed.

Iida and Endeavor's son are being tended to at the back of the ambulance, and Sorahiko spots blankets being quickly offered to them. For shock more than it is for the cold, he thinks as he makes his way over to the number two hero.

It's obvious he's the one in charge here now.

"We got the last of those bastards," Endeavor says, speaking into his phone. "Don't let your guard down over there, Burnin'. The last thing we need is for something to happen in our city while the heroes are occupied in this area."

"Got it, sir!"

Sorahiko waits despite not feeling particularly patient. He has to figure out how to approach this correctly. One wrong move or word and things will all go even more downhill from here.

Because Todoroki Enji is still holding Rabbit ever so carefully with one large arm as he gives orders to the other heroes, and while it doesn't seem possessive it also doesn't look like he's doing it to be protective either.

Midoriya's mask is still partially on, which is more than what Sorahiko expected. He was already preparing for an impromptu reveal, in all honesty. That was the only reason he didn't rush to his ward's side immediately after he was caught—there'd be no point in getting them both in trouble.

Why haven't you taken the chance yet, Endeavor? You're well known for unmasking pesky vigilantes the moment you get your hands on 'em.

"Todoroki," Sorahiko says, just to get his attention. He is kind of short, after all.

Endeavor looks down and grunts at him in a sort-of respectful way, expression unreadable. "What is it?" He sounds slightly annoyed.

"This boy is injured pretty badly," he starts, nodding at Midoriya and forcing his voice to stay disinterested, cool, and unbothered. "I can take him to the nearest hospital. I'm no longer needed here now that the last Nomu is taken care of, and you'll no doubt be forced to stay for a while 'cause of the press, so I've got him from here."

Sorahiko honestly doesn't care who does it out of the two of them, but all he knows is that Rabbit needs medical attention, the kind that the medics here and the ambulance won't be able to provide him. After getting a better look at the boy, at how rough he looks, Sorahiko has come to the conclusion that they need someone to get him to a hospital as soon as possible, threat of exposure be damned. Sorahiko would rather the boy be in prison for a while than be dead. Toshinori would agree too, he hopes.

Besides, prison at least means Midoriya would have a chance to escape. You can't escape death.

"We don't know what's wrong with him," Sorahiko continues, walking even closer. "We shouldn't take chances."

He might be dying, or he could just be in shock. Sorahiko is leaning more towards the first one, though.

For a few moments, Endeavor just stares. He contemplates, his quirk flickering a little by his abdomen as he fights to control his flames. He must've turned them down a little in the best interest of the vigilante he's currently carrying. The fact that it's raining now might also be a contributor.

The number two hero must know he can just say no. He wouldn't even need a reason. Endeavor could simply refuse to hand Rabbit over, and Sorahiko wouldn't be able to do much about it. He could unmask the boy immediately, too.

It's just what he will decide here that's the question. In the wake of all this destruction, will he prioritize the reveal of the vigilante, or will he prioritize the situation at hand?

The fact Todoroki bothered to catch Rabbit before he could fall to his death is surprising in itself—not that Sorahiko would've let his ward die. He would've caught him had Endeavor not made it there first.

Sorahiko holds the flame hero's gaze, trying to look more annoyed by the man's hesitation rather than by the vigilante's stupidity in front of him, which is becoming more and more apparent by the second as Sorahiko stands there and takes in the state of the kid's body.

While he's not exactly blaming Midoriya, he knows damn well some of this could have been avoided. According to what he's found on him and been told by Toshinori, the boy plays with fire a little too much and escapes with only a few mild burns every time. One day, though, things will catch up to him. One day, he's going to have to lay in the bed he made for himself.

Tonight may just be that day.

A dark streak of blood comes from the top of Midoriya's head and runs down his mask, hitting the concrete down by Sorahiko's shoe without a sound.

Again he is reminded that Midoriya Izuku never fucking learns. He's going to have to fix that. If Toshinori won't teach his successor how to listen for once, Sorahiko will do it himself, even if he has to use old school methods.

Todoroki snaps him out of his daze when he speaks, voice suspiciously quiet and even. "I have to tend to my son anyway, so do what you like. I don't really care what happens to him next." His striking blue eyes flash in the light, and if Sorahiko hadn't already faced down the worst of humanity before and won, he might've shivered. "I trust he'll pay for his failures soon." At these words, Endeavor looks down at Rabbit with something dark and complicated flashing across his expression. "This will be the very last time I allow this rat to roam free."

Endeavor doesn't give him much of a warning before bending low and practically dropping the boy on top of him. Sorahiko grunts at the sudden weight, having to take a few steps back to regain his balance once he gets a good hold on him. Sheesh, you're heavier than you look, kid. What is Toshi feeding ya?

He straightens up, eyes narrowing. "I'd expect nothing less from you," he says, dipping his head in acknowledgement before bunching his muscles to leave.

Todoroki nods as well, but he's already on his way to where Stain and the two boys are.

Sorahiko knows a shortcut to the nearest hero-centric hospital, so he focuses on trying to make it to the rooftops to minimize travel time. He has to readjust his grip several times and put more effort into his quirk to keep them from slipping while going up the nearest cracked wall, because damn he's heavy.

The hero is not going to admit that he's just very tiny.

He thinks back to what Endeavor said, to the look on his face, and his lips pull into a thin line. His gruff yet soft words almost sounded like a thank you. Like he was thanking Rabbit for what he did—for helping take care of Stain and for being there beside his son.

Native's life ended in a flash, and it appears that was the reality check that Endeavor needed in that moment. The stakes were high, and it's a miracle the kids weren't hurt any worse than they are. Teamwork made that possible, Sorahiko is sure.

Even for someone like Endeavor, denying someone's role in taking down a villain as dangerous as the Hero Killer just because they're a vigilante would just be too much. It would be downright stupid.

Endeavor probably recognized what Rabbit did, what they all did, and decided to spare him just this once. And yes, Sorahiko will use the term spare because there's absolutely no way Endeavor hasn't already come to terms with the fact that there's still a high chance Rabbit will get out of this one and escape.

In fact, he probably already considers it fact. Which means that Endeavor just let this perfect opportunity slip away from him.

Willingly.

Perhaps there's more to you than you let people see, Todoroki Enji.

If Sorahiko does this right, he can play it off like he simply lost the vigilante on the way here. Maybe he woke up miraculously.

He can take Midoriya Izuku to the hospital, and since he's a minor no one outside of his guardians or the hospital staff would be able to access the records of the visit. No one would be able to make the connections.

That sounds like the best plan as of right now. Before they arrive at the hospital, Sorahiko will take off the boy's mask someplace remote and make it seem like he was just an intern who happened to get caught up in the stampede.

The boy's body twitches at random times as Sorahiko climbs, most likely a response from overuse of his quirks. The faintest red sparks come from his hands, and Sorahiko pointedly ignores it for now.

They reach the top, and Sorahiko glances down to see Endeavor embracing his son tightly, who—though not looking pleased—isn't even attempting to push him away. Iida is on the phone with someone, head down, and Native's body is being covered up by a thick white sheet. Just in time, a black armored vehicle arrives to transport Stain to what will probably be a reinforced medical center for villains.

Sorahiko raises a brow at the unconscious vigilante he's holding. You're lucky they ain't putting you in that thing with him, boy.

He turns to leave for the hospital, shooting through the night with the added help of his quirk, and he can feel Endeavor watching them leave.

The man's eyes follow Sorahiko all the way.

Toshinori has never seen Midoriya Izuku look so young before.

At school, during training, and, hell, even during their lunches together, Midoriya never lets himself be or act his age. He's always been too mature, he's always looked too haunted and spoken too wisely on serious occasions. He's always been... not Midoriya.

And it's a weird thing to say. Toshinori can recognize that. Just because he has some preconception of what Midoriya, a fifteen year old child with a very powerful mind and a very wide set of skills, should be like, doesn't mean that's what he's actually going to be like. That's just obvious.

Midoriya is Midoriya, through and through.

And yet sometimes Toshinori can't help but think that something is missing from him. Like he's holding something back. Either from himself or everyone around him. Maybe both.

But what would it be? What could Midoriya possibly be keeping from them all? What could he be hiding, and, more importantly, why doesn't he realize that doing so is hurting him?

Or, the dark part of Toshinori says, the side that has never fully pulled free from the darkness that stained his heart after his master's end, he does realize it and just doesn't care.

Which would raise more problems than it would solve them.

He stands at the door to the surgery room, watching through the floor to ceiling windows as the doctors work on keeping down Midoriya's infections. He hears muted beeping, and the team scrambles around again and moves quickly to fix whatever the issue is.

Toshinori keeps his breathing even. This has happened about thirty times since he started watching. It's like clockwork, so by now he's not too upset by it.

He still has to convince himself his ward will be okay every single time he hears the emergency beeping, though.

While Midoriya is mostly blocked from view by the doctors, Toshinori is able to see his face from this angle. He's unconscious, whether due to the scale of his injuries or due to the heavy duty drugs they're pumping into him, Toshinori doesn't know.

But his eyes are closed, and his cheeks are shaded a deep, dark red which washes out his freckles nearly completely. There are faint blood stains on his forehead and jaw, remnants from when the nurses quickly tried to clean him up the best they could before the surgery.

In sleep, Toshinori thinks, Midoriya looks more like a child. Awake, moving, fighting, he already has the makings of a hero in him; but now, unnaturally still and lying on an operating table, he looks like what he's meant to be. Midoriya rests there on that table, surrounded by six or so medical professionals, and looks small. Much smaller than the boy himself would probably like—Toshinori knows his ward has always had an issue with appearing 'weaker.'

And so it's pretty telling that the one time Midoriya ever actually looks like the child he's supposed to be is when he's out cold.

Toshinori doesn't know why he's ever surprised by this stuff nowadays.

Heroes in training never stay young for long. There's too many hardships involved with the profession for that.

"He reminds me a lot of you," Naomasa says, walking from behind to stand close to Toshinori, who feels a pang in his chest at the words.

"You made it here fast," he replies, ignoring the previous statement. "I didn't realize you were coming so soon."

Naomasa follows Toshinori's gaze and rubs the back of his neck, tilting his head to the side until he hears a satisfying pop. "Well, this isn't exactly within my jurisdiction, but the chief of police asked for me. Everyone is short staffed right now."

"I figured. It was a large-scale attack. Everyone is busy either cleaning up or trying to figure out what happened."

"Speaking of cleaning up," Naomasa continues, "is Shouta out there helping with the investigation?"

Toshinori glances at him and frowns. He wants to ask when Aizawa became Shouta between them but ultimately decides to ignore it for now. "We all arrived here at the same time early this morning, but once Aizawa saw that Young Midoriya would be in surgery for a while, he left. He hasn't been here since, though you'd probably get more information from Yamada when he's back."

"And where's he?"

"He went to make some calls. Said Midoriya's aunt would want to know what happened."

This seems to catch Naomasa's attention. "Mrs. Bakugou? She can be very protective. It's a good thing he's telling her, as she deserves to know."

Toshinori doesn't answer immediately. He was skeptical, admittedly. He doesn't think that telling Bakugou's mother, the woman who—according to Midoriya himself—pretty much raised the boy in absence of his father, will do as much good as it will harm. Sure, she probably is the closest thing to a blood relative of Midoriya, but should she really be involved in all of this?

She doesn't know about Rabbit—at least, not that she's said—or about One for All. Hell, she doesn't even know that the boy was homeless for a few years!

There's obviously a reason Midoriya keeps so much from her, so contacting her immediately after the events of Hosu to let her know what's happening to her nephew... it doesn't seem right. Midoriya should be the one to tell her. He should've had the choice to call her himself.

As if sensing his train of thought, Naomasa lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "She never would've known without some kind of intervention. He wouldn't have told her himself, that's for sure. That kid would wait until the end of time to admit his weaknesses if it meant others wouldn't worry."

"Being injured isn't a weakness," Toshinori counters.

"It is if the right person knows about it."

The beeping starts up again, capturing their attention. One of the doctors presses on the holographic screen on their right to enlarge the up-close feed of their work.

They're not even bothering with his hands. Are they that much of a lost cause? Oh, my boy...

Toshinori forces himself to watch the screen as they work. Some of this is familiar to him. He's been worked on in these settings so many times that he can almost picture himself in Midoriya's position.

Which is a scary thought, all things considering. Toshinori needs to be a better mentor. He has to work faster, try harder. He has to be more. For Midoriya's sake.

Here, Toshinori can see the way the teen's skin is rippling and stretching out in the areas around his open wounds. It's the work of his regeneration, no doubt. Boost is trying to stitch him up, and it's actually doing a pretty damn good job.

Except right now it needs to just stop, as the doctors need to keep some of those slices open until they finish.

"It's almost beautiful if you don't look at the context of the situation," Naomasa says, staring at it too. There's a pinch between his brows, and he looks like he's calculating something as he always is.

"I'd say it's more terrifying. His body works to keep him whole even while he's on the brink of death." Toshinori folds his arms. His legs ache to sit down, but he doesn't. "Though I've never seen it work this fast before."

"It's a nuisance to the staff right now, looks like. The quirk suppressors don't seem to be working too well."

"He's getting stronger, then," Toshinori notes.

"Or maybe he was just getting healthier before all of this went down. Either way, they need to up his dosage soon unless they're deciding to keep Boost as a backup in case of an accident."

The accident being an event where Midoriya's life is in even worse peril.

The mere thought of it has Toshinori's side itching, his years-old, starburst shaped scar making itself known once more. His hand subconsciously goes to grab at it through his shirt, and his knuckles turn a lighter shade at the sheer strength he's holding the fabric with.

Guilt is eating away at his insides like poison, feasting on his failures, and Toshinori has to swallow back some blood before it can escape him.

Midoriya just makes him worry more than anything else ever has in his life. Even more than All for One, and not even Toshinori can figure out why.

The beeping ceases. Toshinori's breath slows, his jaw clenching.

"The heroes who first encountered the Nomu who killed Native reported that it had a variety of quirks, just like the one from the USJ Attack."

Naoamasa's voice is matter of fact. Almost conversational. But Toshinori has known him for long enough to see past it. "I figured that would be the case," he responds quietly, memories of the school invasion replaying in his mind like an old, broken record. "Will we be able to find out who the base was? It might give us some insight."

The Nomu at the USJ was formed using the body of one unlucky man, so Toshinori is curious to see whether the same will show for this case.

"As of right now, it doesn't look like it. This Nomu's body, Toshinori, is in a worse state than the one from the USJ. It's like it just fell apart on its own." A sharp, annoyed breath passes between his teeth. "My team is having difficulty analyzing it."

Was it not completely done? Is that why it was destroyed so easily?

He's not trying to discredit his student, but Toshinori knows damn well that in the state Midoriya was in, defeating an entire Nomu was an outcome that was simply out of the question. There must be something more here that they're missing.

They may have to wait until Midoriya is healed and rested before getting that answer.

"It had a multitude of quirks. The heroes mentioned regeneration, but we already guessed that. They also said that it seemed as if it had a sort of sixth sense. It could tell where certain people were, and it had fast reflexes. It was obvious, at least to them, that it had a mission. They were chasing it away from a group of civilians and trying to capture it, but it was too fast."

Toshinori gets what he's trying to say. "It got to Native and the kids first."

"Yeah. Unfortunately." Naomasa shakes his head. He looks tired these days, but in this day and age, what law enforcer doesn't? "That isn't all I wanted to discuss with you, though." He pauses for a moment, as if gathering himself. When he continues, he sounds resigned. "When Midoriya killed it, which is what we're assuming... it... the quirk specialists said it had no quirks in its body. Not even a residue. If we were just going by its remains, we would have labeled the Nomu completely quirkless, which wouldn't match up with earlier accounts from the heroes."

There's a dirty, blood-encrusted curl sticking to Midoriya's forehead. Toshinori wishes he could brush it back. Wishes he could see the boy's eyes, bright and alive and eager, just as they were that first day they started their training on that beach.

"Toshinori. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The hero doesn't flinch. He had seen the reports himself earlier, courtesy of Aizawa, and had already made and fretted over his own theories. "I feel that if All for One were at the scene, we would've known. Everyone would've."

Naomasa looks away, instead focusing on their reflections in the window. "There are other explanations."

None that I appreciate, old friend.

"Maybe the Nomu was given a power that would erase everything it had when it died," Toshinori offers. "A sort of self destruction quirk. That way we wouldn't get any information."

"Doubtful."

"How so? Any villain will learn from his mistakes, and since we managed to take the first Nomu and gain some understanding of how these creatures are formed, I'm sure some failsafes were added to the new ones."

"So why do the others still have their quirks?"

Toshinori doesn't know what does it—the gentleness of his friend's voice, the meaning behind the words, or the defeated way he says it—but his patience thins anyway. "What are you implying, Naomasa? This is paranoia talking."

The detective doesn't get offended or snap back. He just stares. "I'm not implying anything. I just think we need to broaden our mindset. The possibilities for an event like this, Toshinori, it's... it's difficult to comprehend. Everything is."

As Naomasa finishes, Toshinori feels something stir in his mind. One for All hums in his veins, a familiar and welcome feeling after having it for all these years. This time, though, Toshinori frowns. There's a pull, a tug, and suddenly the man is feeling a little... scared. Terrified, even. Guilt and sadness hits him like a freight train, and his attention is directed back toward the boy on the operating table.

At first, he doesn't see what the world is wanting him to see, but then there's movement and Midoriya's finger twitches on his left hand, signaling life again.

The doctors see it at the same time and converse with each other, but Toshinori isn't focused on them anymore.

Is he dreaming, or is he waking up? You can't dream while under anesthesia, I thought.

Either way, the foreign feelings are gone, and Toshinori is brought back to himself when Naomasa reaches up to put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know." Toshinori sighs deeply, responding to the detective's previous comment. "I know it's difficult. I apologize. I don't mean to get so upset. We do need to think of every possible cause and course of action here, I understand."

Naomasa's hand leaves him. "Just promise me you'll watch him closely. He'll need your guidance more than anyone's once this is all over. I know him well, even if he doesn't realize it. After stuff like this happens, he closes off, tries to disappear. You'll need to be careful."

"I will, believe me." He wouldn't dream of leaving him alone. Memories of what happened the last time Midoriya was left unattended in a hospital flashes through his brain, making him wince. "Anyway, how are Iida and Todoroki? I wasn't allowed to see them."

It's nice, at least, that the two boys were transported to the same hospital as Midoriya. It's good to keep everything contained like this.

"They're fine. I talked to them both individually before I came here. They're holding up as well as they can given the situation."

Toshinori closes his eyes. "This should never have happened."

"Well, that's obvious. But it's over now. All we can do is try and repair things. That's what we're here for." The beeping starts once again, and both hero and detective watch how the doctors handle it. It looks like they're close to finishing. "The kids... they'll just need a lot of support after this. I know UA can give that. I know you can, too, Toshinori."

He can, can't he? That's not only his job but his responsibility.

Something swells in his heart at the reminder that he has something more to live for now. He has Midoriya. He has his students.

"They did great out there. I saw pictures of the wreckage they left behind while fighting Stain, and I was impressed." Maybe impressed isn't the right word. He's proud, sure, but he's also sad to know that they were forced to go beyond their own limits to simply survive and protect each other. "I know they'll be okay, but I think that's what scares me. I think this is a dark omen."

"Dark omen?" There's an amused lilt to Naomasa's words. "Now who's being paranoid?"

Toshinori laughs softly, brushing it off when his phone buzzes to tell him he's received a text.

Ah. He has to meet Gran again at the entrance to bring him up to where Midoriya's room will be. The old hero was busy cleaning up the city and tying up loose ends at the scene of the crime. More specifically, he was cleaning up the blood on site to make sure Rabbit's DNA won't be linked to Midoriya.

Toshinori casts one more glance at his successor's body before saying farewell to Naomasa. Before he can make it out the door, Naomasa speaks, still not looking at him.

"When he wakes up, I'm going to have to speak with him about what happened. I need his version of events."

If you ask Toshinori, it's much too soon to start asking those kinds of questions, but he knows it's protocol. This is something bigger than just them, so Naomasa will have to question Midoriya as soon as possible. There's nothing Toshinori can do about it.

"I know we both want what's best for him," Naomasa continues. "That's always been the goal. But I think that doesn't always mean protecting him from consequences. Especially if those consequences would set him on a better path."

Toshinori furrows his brows. He wants to ask what that means, but he refrains from doing so at the last moment. Instead, he just nods and leaves, swallowing that bitter pill as his brain tries to unwrap the meaning.

"Why do you flinch so harshly?"

"I—I'm not sure what you mean, All—ah, sir! I just—I didn't know you'd be coming here. I'm—I'm embarrassed!"

The lie registers even before the words have even fully left the mouth, and All for One hums. "You're trembling, even now. Why?" All for One walks forward, his face one of concern as he approaches the man before him. "What do you think I will do to you?"

It's a trick question, and they both know it. All for One grins, pearly white teeth gleaming in the faint light of the building they're in. It's the man's apartment, and it's a nice one, really. All for One doesn't need his eyes to see that. It's a penthouse, not unlike the one that he himself used to live in centuries ago, back when he was younger.

The man here has good taste.

"You're here to—to discuss the mission, right? The, uh, the previous one?" He backs away, and his lizard's tail accidentally knocks over one of the chairs belonging to his dining room table, causing him to fall to the ground with a hitch of breath.

"The failed mission," All for One specifies, and it's not up for debate.

All for One's subject for the night begins to back away again as he advances through the room, and his scaly eyes widen as he no doubt realizes what his master has come here for.

All for One never usually shows up to these sorts of events in person. He never shows his face. In fact, most of the people that he's worked with have never even seen him before. He's that secretive.

So for All for One to arrive here? At this person's own home address? It doesn't ever mean well.

The man must know that too.

"Yes, sir, that one," comes his response, shaky and hesitant. "We messed up, I know. And I—I will fix it! Believe me! We won't make the same mistake again, s-sir. We won't fail."

"Oh, I know you won't. Don't worry there," All for One assures him kindly. "I'm here to make sure of that, young one."

He lets his quirks wash over him for a second, his red and black lightning crackling all around him as his body comes alive with power. He breathes in deeply, enjoying the flood of warmth and the heat in his veins. As he lets his strength build up inside him, he welcomes the agonizing voices that are now shouting at the back of his mind. They always accompany him nowadays. They're growing more rambunctious.

It's becoming a bit bothersome, if he's to be honest. But All for One knows why this is happening, so his excitement outweighs the annoyance most times.

"S-Sir?" The man, the current leader of the underground group that All for One hired to do some of his more taxing work, looks nothing like what he once was. His mutation quirk is bouncing around inside of him, teasing All for One whilst simultaneously trying to escape him. "Sir, I said we won't fail you again. If you could just give me one more—"

His mouth snaps shut when All for One brings a finger to his lips, a small smile tugging at his features. "I give as many chances as one needs. Did you think of me as being unfair? Ah, I'm ashamed."

The man starts to visibly tremble again when All for One comes to a stop right above him. He's cowering, and something inside All for One gives a disgusted jolt. Despite this, however, his satisfaction remains.

His anger quickly replaces those emotions, though. He came here for a reason. When he heard what became of the mission he gave this group, he knew he needed to come as soon as his treatments allowed him to rectify the situation.

He doesn't like repeated mistakes.

"I did not come here to punish you, though in ordinary circumstances I might've." All for One ignores the way the man's face contorts in horror. He crouches down, his large hand coming up to pull down his own metal mask, the one that supplies his oxygen.

Because of the years of continuous treatments, pretty soon he'll be able to go without it as long as he's not actively straining himself.

The light from the kitchen shines on All for One's face, casting shadows over the sockets where his eyes once were. With his other hand he grabs a firm hold of the man's forearm, right where a healing gash is. "I simply wanted to ask why you thought it was acceptable to almost kill my son, hm?"

For a moment, the earth is quiet. The stars stop burning, the particles in the air don't move. Everything is at a standstill, and All for One loves it. He lives for those moments.

The void moments, he calls them. The times and areas in space where nothing exists. Nothing but him and whatever he desires.

And then the moment is over, and the universe is back on track.

"Your—! He was—he was your son?"

Like a fish out of water, his subject gapes and stutters over his words. His confusion and disbelief is palpable, and All for One waits with more patience than this man deserves.

The disbelief is short lived. When All for One doesn't make a move to continue, when he doesn't take back his words or say anything else, the man lets out a shuddering breath.

His fear returns tenfold. Regret burns like a raging fire inside him, and the situation seems to finally dawn on him. "Master," he says when he's conjured up the last bits of his waning confidence. It sounds like a plea. "Master, please. We didn't know. I—I didn't know! We were only told that he was—that you wanted him! That he had something of yours! Something he stole!" The man yanks his arm out of All for One's grip and begins to scrabble backwards, nails scraping against the tile beneath him. "I promise! Sir, we—we would have been more careful if we knew he was—!"

All for One stands and flicks his wrist in the direction of the man, and spikes made out of bone jut from the ground and go right through the meat of his thighs, pinning him right where he is. He ignores the anguished screams, not interested in playing nice anymore.

The day is almost over. He has other things to tend to than finishing off the attempted murderer of his own prized possession.

"Whether you knew about that boy's relationship to me isn't any of my concern anymore. You and your group were told to find where the vigilante Rabbit lived and flush him out of there. I didn't expect you to capture him, did I? I wasn't holding you to such standards. I merely said that if you could do so, I would reward you greatly. The only thing I very politely asked of you, though, was to try and run him out of the country. I would do all of the rest." All for One feels the familiar tingling in his throat and lets the flames escape his mouth. He lifts a hand and contains them in his palm, letting his fire, the same fire that Midoriya Inko loved dearly, swirl into a voracious ball.

"We—we were flushing him out! We didn't mean to almost kill him! My men—they—they were all there ready to head inside to get him when—when that Hero Killer arrived and fucked it all up!" Desperation claws into his watery voice. Tears are already leaking from his eyes and slipping down red cheeks. "He's the one who ruined everything! They had no way of—"

"Your entire group couldn't defeat one crooked man? Your weakness betrays your credibility." Another bone spike, this one through the leader's abdomen. His yells rattle the walls. "I should've seen this coming. I suppose this is partially my fault. Maybe I shouldn't have—"

Quick footsteps cut him off. All for One turns, intrigued now, and waits for the feeling of the young one's quirk to come around the bend of the hallway. A young girl, maybe six or seven years old, stands there, green eyes wide and bloodshot, her curly hair frazzled and drenched with sweat.

Sometimes, All for One is very grateful for the quirk he stole a while back that allows him to see his surroundings in his mind, even without eyes. It's moments like these that make his job all the more worth it.

"Oh!" All for One's voice softens, suddenly delighted. "It seems your daughter couldn't hide away anymore. How very brave of her to hold out for this long."

"Wait!" The man struggles and writhes against the bone spikes. "Master, don't! Let her go! Please, please, don't touch her!" When All for One doesn't respond immediately, the man turns to the girl himself, shouting what must be her name. "Get out of here, now! Go out that front door and get out of this building—!"

A snap of All for One's fingers, and the air is wooshed out of the man's lungs temporarily. "Why, no need to scare her like that. I'm not going to hurt a child for her father's mistakes." He smiles at the girl, who shrinks back. She has a tail too, but hers is shorter and has little spikes on it. "I'm just a friend of your father's, dearie. Don't look so afraid. Come here."

He opens up his arms in invitation, tilting his head to the side. She hesitates, though, and when she moves a little bit into the light, All for One can see a small plushie of the hero Wash clutched tightly in her grip.

And oh, how touching. This reminds All for One of some other time.

The man regains his breath and is now shouting. "I said get to the door! Do you hear me?"

All for One holds her gaze. "He isn't being very nice to you, is he? Just come take my hand. I want you to see what happens next."

In two seconds, the man manages to dislodge one of the bone spikes, which throws All for One's idea down the gutter. The man tries to scramble to his feet. His lizard's tail elongates, about to wrap around All for One, but then there's a whistle, and an invisible blade comes down to slice right through the tail at the base. Another spike comes up, coming through the back of the man's neck and curving into his skull.

And just as quickly as it started, it's over.

Even as the man's quirk fizzles out once and for all, his tail flops around and swings from where it lies on the ground, unattached.

How bothersome, he thinks. He made me dirty this lovely penthouse. It could've been done without so much blood.

When he turns back, having successfully silenced the man, the girl is staring at the fire building up in All for One's palm. She looks like she's in awe, which makes All for One gleam.

He kneels down again, holding it out to her. She's so young and in so much distress that she probably can't even comprehend what's happening. Or what just became of her father.

"My son loved to look at the fire too," he says quietly when she's stepped closer, as if drawn to it. "It can be a source of comfort when you've lost your way."

She doesn't answer. Not that he expects her to. She holds the plushie tighter to her chest, her tears spilling out at an even faster rate. It's only when she's this close that he can see the freckles on her cheeks.

And how perfect is this scene?

The girl stands in front of him, face pinched. All for One doesn't pay any mind to the dead man behind him. He doesn't matter. He never did.

"Do you want to see how fast it can spread?"

When it's all over with, the building is crumbling to the ground, engulfed in red and orange. The poor child stayed there beside her father's body, mesmerized by the heat, left with nothing else to live for, and All for One almost felt bad.

Maybe some hero will go in there to save her as one did for his son. Or maybe not.

Whatever happens, it will be the man's fault.

Nevertheless, he has a new mission now.

The Hero Killer ruined the plan, which is fine. He already knew that. All for One will take care of him next. He knows the vigilante trained his son, he knows he took care of him, so he's not really surprised by what happened when little Izuku's building was destroyed.

But even still.

As he listens to the reports of the Hosu incident, as he hears where the Hero Killer is to be sentenced to for the rest of his life, he hears the voices come back with a new vigor.

Izuku must feel it too, he thinks. All for One can feel the ache. The sorrow. Izuku's sorrow. Even from here.

He can feel his son. And how exhilarating is that?

He has the quirks, now, doesn't he? Wonderful. It's just as he wanted.

A smile curls onto his lips, and it makes him look cruel. Makes him wish he could be there to witness whatever pain his son is going through now.

He chuckles, and the sound echoes despite there not being any walls around him.

A heart that slowly dies, he muses, hanging on to the feeling of his son, awake and alive and powerful—but not for forever. My boy, this is how it was always meant to be.