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The world had gone mute for Akaza.
That was the first thing Akaza registered as he sat in the small, clean-white room of the lodge's medical wing. The only light came from the moon, filtering in through the window, and the soft green glow of the heart monitor beside the bed.
Rumi was a still, pale form under the white sheets, lost in a sea of bandages. Her left arm was in a heavy cast. Her ribs were tightly bound. An IV line was attached to her uninjured arm. She looked so fragile, unlike the unstoppable force of nature he knew. The Pussycats' medical specialist had stabilized her, pumping her full of painkillers and quirk-assisted healing agents, but the damage was severe. Multiple fractures, severe internal bruising, and a concussion.
Akaza sat on a small wooden stool beside the bed, his own bruises and cuts forgotten. He hadn't bothered to change; his torn and blood-caked UA uniform was a contrast to the clean room. He reached out, his gauntleted hand trembling slightly, and gently took her hand. It felt so small in his.
The rage was gone, burned out of him the moment Muscular's body had gone cold. All that was left was a vast, cold, and aching emptiness. It was the same, familiar void that had lived in his chest for ten years in his last life. The feeling of failure.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse, sounding alien to his own ears. He stared at their joined hands. "I'm so sorry, Rumi."
He had failed her. He had let himself be distracted. The Nomu… it was a feint. A simple and effective plan to push him, the "strongest", away from the main group.
"I got too confident," he continued, his voice cracking, the cold mask of 'Asura' shattering to reveal the terrified kid underneath. "I was so busy fighting my own battle, so sure that I was the real target, that I didn't even think... I didn't think he would go for you."
His mind flashed back to her pained, half-conscious whisper. "You're… late… dumbass…"
A single, warm tear slid down his cheek, landing on their hands. It was the first tear he'd shed in this life.
"I was late. Heh." A broken, wet laugh escaped him. "I was late. Just like... just like with Yuna. I wasn't there. I let him hurt you. I let him… I almost…"
He couldn't say it. The image of Muscular's fist descending, of what would have happened if he'd been one second slower, sent a fresh wave of paralyzing terror through him. He brought her hand to his forehead, his shoulders shaking, the weight of his failure crushing him.
"Never again," he choked out, the words a blood oath sworn to her unconscious form. "I swear to you, Rumi… I will never be late again. I don't care about hero ethics. I don't care about their rules. I will get stronger. I'll get so strong that no one, no one, will ever be able to touch you again. I'll burn the whole world down before I let anyone make you cry."
He stayed like that for a long time, the only sound in the room the rhythmic beep of the monitor and his own breath.
"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much, carrots. So please… just be okay. I'll always be here."
He gently kissed her bandaged forehead, then just as gently, placed her hand back on the bed. He stood up, his body aching, and the cold mask of 'Asura' slowly slotted back into place. The vulnerability was gone, locked away again, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.
He stepped out into the hallway, the dim light making the shadows seem long and deep. He was surprised to see a figure slumped against the opposite wall.
Katsuki Bakugo.
He was just sitting there, arms crossed, staring at the floor. He looked up as Akaza emerged, his red eyes intense and unreadable in the gloom.
Akaza was too tired for this. He just wanted to be alone. He figured Bakugo was here to start a fight, to finally challenge him after seeing him at his most brutal. He braced himself for the inevitable explosion.
"So," Bakugo growled, his voice low.
Akaza just stared at him, waiting.
"They're in there," Bakugo said, jerking his chin toward the common room down the hall, where the rest of the class was gathered. "The extras. They're all talking about you."
Akaza's expression didn't change. "Let them talk." He began to walk away.
"They're callin' you a monster."
Akaza stopped, but he didn't turn around.
"Deku, Four-Eyes, Round-Face… all of 'em. They're scared shitless. Saying you're a villain. That you enjoyed it. That All Might would have found another way. What you did was a mindless murder."
A dry, bitter laugh escaped Akaza's lips. It was a sound devoid of all humor. "How easy it is to ruin the image you build, no?" He was tired. He was so, so tired. He didn't care what they thought. He just wanted to find Nezu and get this night over with. He started walking again.
"I told them they were full of shit."
Akaza froze. His head snapped back, his black eyes wide with genuine shock. He turned to face Bakugo, who was now standing, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
"I get it," Bakugo said, refusing to meet his gaze. "You did the right thing. Don't let those fucking fakes sit in there and tell you who you are."
Akaza was completely baffled. This was the last, the absolute last, thing he had ever expected. He had anticipated condemnation, fear, maybe even a challenge. He had never anticipated understanding. And from Bakugo, of all people.
"And…" Bakugo kicked at the floor, his voice becoming shy, almost embarrassed. "Thanks… for opening my eyes. To the world. This hero shit… it ain't what they show on TV." He finally looked up. "I got your back. I might talk shit, but at least I'm not a two-faced coward."
The sincerity of the declaration hit Akaza harder than Nomu's punch. He had been so focused on Rumi that he had never considered allies. And now, the first person to stand by his side, to see the unpardonable act of execution and nod in agreement, was his most volatile rival.
A small, genuine smile touched Akaza's lips. "Thank you, Bakugo. It… means a lot. Glad to have a friend like you."
The word "friend" was like a grenade. Bakugo instantly exploded.
"WHO SAID I WAS YOUR FRIEND, YOU BLACK-EYED BASTARD?!" he roared, his face turning crimson. "I'M JUST SAYIN' FACTS! DON'T GET IT TWISTED, YOU'RE STILL MY RIVAL, I'M STILL GONNA BEAT YOU! SHUT UP!"
He turned, fuming, and stomped down the hall. He stopped at the corner, but didn't look back.
"...How is she?"
Akaza's smile softened. "She's out of danger. The medics said she'll recover. Broken bones, but she'll be fine."
Bakugo grunted. "Good. Be boring as hell without her jumpin' around the classroom all the time."
He didn't say goodbye. He just left. Akaza watched him go, a strange, new feeling settling in his chest. It wasn't the cold of his rage, or the ache of his guilt. It was… warmth. A new friendship, forged in something brutal and cold. He was not as alone as he thought.
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The next morning, the sun rose on a somber, exhausted camp. The villains were gone, the bodies cleaned up, and a heavy police presence now secured the lodge. Class 1-A was gathered in the dining hall, all except Akaza, who had been summoned by Nezu. The students were quiet, the usual morning chaos replaced by hushed, nervous whispers. The rift created by Bakugo's outburst was palpable.
Aizawa and Vlad King entered, their expressions grim. But they weren't alone. Principal Nezu entered with them, his small form radiating an authority that silenced the room.
"Good morning, students," Nezu said, his voice as cheerful as ever, which only made the atmosphere more unsettling. "I'm sure you have many questions about last night's events."
"Principal Nezu!" Iida stood up, his hand chopping the air. "We must discuss the actions of our classmate, Asura! His conduct was--"
"His conduct was exemplary, Iida," Nezu cut him off, his voice still pleasant, but with an underlying edge of steel.
The class stared, stunned.
"Exemplary?!" Uraraka squeaked, standing up. "But sir, he… he killed him! He tortured him! That's… that's not what heroes do!"
"Isn't it?" Nezu asked, his head tilting. He hopped up onto the table. "Tell me, Uraraka, what do heroes do?"
"They… they save people!" she said, her voice full of conviction.
"And did Asura not save you?" Nezu countered. "Did he not save Ms. Yaoyorozu and Ms. Ashido from a villain who had already broken their bones and was, by all accounts, about to kill them? Did he not save your classmate, Ms. Usagiyama, from a killing blow? Did he not save young Kota from the man who murdered his parents?"
"But… but the way he did it…" Izuku interjected, his voice trembling. "It was so… brutal. All Might… he would have found another way. He would have subdued him, saved him…"
"Saved him?" Nezu's smile finally vanished. His beady black eyes turned cold. "Saved Muscular? You speak of All Might. All Might is a symbol, Midoriya. He is a one-in-a-billion pillar. You are not him. And even he cannot be everywhere. Let me be perfectly, unequivocally clear, so that your idealistic minds can comprehend the reality of the situation."
He looked around the room, his gaze landing on each student. "The villain Muscular is a confirmed mass murderer, responsible for the deaths of at least eighteen civilians, including two pro heroes, Kota's parents. He is a sociopath who feels no remorse and, in fact, boasted about his crimes. He was not a petty thief. He was a rabid dog that needed to be put down."
"But a trial!" Iida insisted, his voice shaking with conviction, his idealism warring with the horror he'd witnessed. "The justice system must be upheld! We cannot become judge and jury! What Akaza did was vigilantism... it was wrong, no matter how evil the villain!"
"Wrong?" Nezu's cheerful smile returned, but his eyes were like chips of ice. "That's a very high horse to stand on, Iida, especially for you."
Iida froze. "Sir? What do you mean?"
"Did you think we were unaware of your internship choice?" Nezu asked, his voice suddenly sharp. "Did you think we didn't know why you chose an agency in Hosu City? You went there with the express purpose of hunting down the Hero Killer, Stain. You went there seeking vengeance for your brother, fully prepared to engage a serial killer, correct?"
The blood drained from Iida's face. The rest of the class stared at him, shocked. Izuku, who knew the truth, looked down.
"You, who would have also become a vigilante and a killer had you been strong enough, are in no position to lecture anyone about the sanctity of the 'justice system'."
Iida flinched, his righteous anger collapsing under the weight of his own hypocrisy.
"The justice system?" Nezu laughed, a high-pitched, mirthless sound.
"The system that would have put both of them in Tartarus, a facility that, while strong, is not foolproof? The system that would have given them the chance to escape, to return, to kill more people? More parents, like Kota's? Perhaps your parents next time, Iida? Or maybe all your parents," He said look at the class.
Iida flinched, his righteous anger collapsing under the weight of Nezu's cold, brutal logic.
"You are children," Nezu said, his voice soft but cutting. "You see the world in black and white. You believe in the pretty stories you see on television. Young Bakugo was right to call you fakes."
The class gasped, staring at him in horror.
"You want to be heroes? Then you need to grow up. The world is not rainbows and sunshine. It is blood and teeth and difficult choices. Last night, you faced a threat that you could not handle. Asura was faced with the same threat, and he did handle it. He did the hard, ugly, necessary thing that none of you were capable of doing. His actions were sanctioned by me, as a necessary act of threat elimination. He was not a student last night. He was an asset. And he performed perfectly."
Nezu's cheerful smile returned, but it was now the most terrifying thing they had ever seen.
"Akaza, Asura understands the reality of this world. That is why he is a true hero… and you are all still just students."
The room was silent. Their simple, bright world of heroes and villains had been irrevocably shattered.
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