— — START — —
Rain started to pour, the falling droplets cutting through the dust as it thinned and bled into the downpour...
'What now?! Think! THINK!'
'That thing has insane firepower. A direct attack would wipe me out—and everyone else with me… He's not just stealing quirks. He's amplifying them.'
'He could pull out something new at any moment and catch me off guard. If nothing else, I have to get the kids and civilians out of here. But how do I—'
His thoughts spiraled—until something small and metallic rolled across the broken pavement, coming to a stop near his foot.
From its speakers, a familiar voice rang out, sharp and encouraging.
"You got this, Aizawa!!!"
That was enough to snap him out of his stupor. Shota quickly pulled his goggles over his eyes.
'That's right. No hesitation—not now.'
He fixed his glare on the Villain. 'My quirk is Erasure. Whatever power my enemy brings to the table, I can strip it away and level the playing field!'
One of the swollen lumps floating along the toad-like creature's back began to crackle violently, light leaking through its surface as if something massive were about to erupt.
Seeing this, Eraserhead ran and launched himself toward a ruined building.
BOOM!
A colossal beam of energy tore through the air, narrowly missing the structure and sparing the civilians cowering below from further harm.
'Dammit!' he thought as he skidded along the Villain's slick back. 'Delaying the activation time isn't enough—it can still cause collateral damage!'
He steadied himself, forcing his breathing to slow. 'This isn't some run-of-the-mill street-level villain. I can't approach this without a solid plan. I have to work with what I've got.'
'Use the most efficient—most rational—strategies.'
As if responding to his resolve, two more lumps began swelling with energy.
The teen leapt skyward, twisting through the air with practiced acrobatics as twin beams fired upward in pursuit.
'Strategy one! Position myself overhead—force him to aim at the sky!'
He landed again atop the massive body and sprinted toward a trembling lump on its back.
'Strategy two! Kick the non-activated lumps upward—let them detonate at a safe height!'
His foot connected, sending the unstable mass flying just before it erupted in a violent flash of energy high above.
'Great—!'
The thought was cut short as the Villain's massive right hand slammed into him, swatting him aside like a fly.
With those handled… that just leaves the body itself, he thought, barely registering the searing pain shooting through his left shoulder.
'So what's my strategy for that? I'll just—'
"No…" he muttered, breath shaky as he struggled to rise.
"I've got nothing…!"
The same familiar voice rang out across the ruined field.
"It's all right! You can do this! You've got what it takes, Shota!"
That voice—warm, unwavering—was impossible to ignore. It made him believe.
"I know for a fact that you're strong! You will never lose!"
Shota grit his teeth and forced himself upright, legs trembling beneath him.
"RAAAAHHH!!!" he roared, fingers closing tightly around the sturdy capture tape coiled at his neck.
He hurled it forward. The tape wrapped around the Villain's outstretched hand, and with a sharp tug, he swung himself in, driving his boot straight into its eye.
The toad-like Villain screeched, its massive hand snapping toward Eraserhead in retaliation.
Reacting instantly, Shota launched himself again, his tape whipping around a massive chunk of debris. With a powerful pull, he sent it rocketing straight into the Villain's forehead.
The creature growled, its body swelling ominously as it prepared to unleash everything it had stored. One by one, countless lumps tore free from its back, each crackling violently with energy.
"All at once? Fine!" the hero-in-training challenged.
"Come on, Shota! You can do this!" the voice urged.
Eraserhead acted without hesitation. His tape snapped out, wrapping every unstable lump together, binding them into one massive, writhing sphere. Pain flared through his left arm as it went completely limp.
Without stopping, he clenched the tape between his teeth and bit down hard—snap!—severing it before hurling the bundled mass straight into the Villain's gaping mouth.
"Here! A taste of your own medicine!"
Energy erupted from within the creature, bursting out through every possible opening in a blinding explosion of light and force.
Eraserhead was sent flying, his body tumbling helplessly across the barren field.
When the dust settled, the Villain's enormous form collapsed, smoke billowing from its mouth as it lay motionless.
"Huff… huff…"
"I did it…" Shota whispered, disbelief shaking his voice.
Then, louder—prouder—
"Shirakumo, I did it!!!"
- - - -
A few moments later, paramedics finally flooded the area.
The neighborhood was barely recognizable. Buildings stood cracked and hollowed out, their facades torn open like broken shells. Streets were gouged and littered with rubble, twisted metal, and shattered glass. Smoke drifted lazily through the rain-soaked air, mixing with dust that had long since turned to gray sludge beneath everyone's feet. Emergency lights painted the ruins in red and blue, flashing against the darkened sky.
Civilians were quickly attended to, the injured lifted onto stretchers and rushed into ambulances. Children broke away from the scene, sobbing as they ran into their parents' arms.
Several policemen restrained the Villain, its massive body now shrunken down to a fraction of its former size, limp and unconscious.
"One trainee… one trainee took that thing down all on his own?" a Pro Hero with a high pompadour muttered, his arm secured in a sling.
"Hard to believe…"
Shota smiled shyly. "It was a team effort. My partner was cheering me on the whole time."
He turned toward where his partner should have been."Right, Shirakumo?"
Spotting a familiar figure in a long coat, he recognized Kayama—Ms. Midnight. "How're his wounds looking, Kayama?"
No response.
His smile faltered. He straightened abruptly. "Wait— that bad? Really? He should be taken to the hospital, quick!"
Then something clicked.
"Ah, right! That speaker! That's Shirakumo's. He was using it to talk to me earlier. We'd better take it with us…" he said, turning to Yamada, who had bent down to pick up a gourd-shaped speaker.
But the yellow-haired teen froze.
Sensoji, standing stiffly beside the loud-mouthed teen, crouched and picked it up instead. "What? This thing's totally busted."
"Huh— th-that can't be… He was cheering the—"
"What, you heard him cheering you on the whole entire time?" the simple-minded student said flatly. "Nah, you couldn't have. You were just giving yourself a pep talk and imagined it was coming from this speaker."
"Nu… nuh-uh…" Shota replied, forcing a nervous smile as his gaze drifted past them—toward the pile of rubble Kayama stood over. "I clearly heard him say, 'You can do it' and 'Come on, Shota'… His voice kept me going…"
Blood.
Dark red streaks stained the dust and broken concrete beneath the collapsed debris.
"Get over here! A body!" one of the paramedics shouted urgently.
Shota's expression went blank.
"Aizawa," Sensoji said quietly, "a top-rated Hero team couldn't take down that monster. Yet you went toe-to-toe with it and beat it against all odds."
"You did it. Alone."
"Stop talking, Sensoji…" Yamada said, forcing a small smile—one that grew emptier by the second.
"Be proud, Aizawa. If not now, then when?" the bulky teen finished, eyes closed.
Yamada let out a shaky breath. "Seriously, dude… I envy that simple mind of yours." He glanced skyward. "Aw, shucks. Here comes the rain again."
The two stood there for several minutes, though it felt like an eternity.
"Aizawa. Yamada. Let's get inside, c'mon. We don't want you getting sick out here," Kayama said softly, her voice stripped of its usual teasing tone.
"Thanks, Kayama… but we're good," Yamada replied, smiling faintly. "The rain kinda fits our vibe right now." His eyes were empty.
Shota said nothing.
He stood motionless, clutching the goggles—the only thing that remained of Shirakumo.
The heavy rain fell harder, mercifully masking the tears streaming freely down their faces.
- - - -
The rain fell just as hard somewhere else.
Sorashi sat on the living room floor, oblivious.
His battlefield was spread out before him—two figures locked in eternal combat.
"Kakarot," Sorashi muttered seriously, nudging the orange-clad figure forward.
The monkey king toppled him with a flick of the staff.
Sorashi frowned.
"No! No, you fly," he insisted, lifting the smaller figure and setting him back onto the cloud. "Fly 'way."
The toy slipped. Again.
Kakarot tumbled off the cloud and landed flat on his back.
Sorashi's brows knit together. His small hands clenched, frustration bubbling up in his chest in a way he didn't yet have words for. He pushed the toy back up, a little harder this time.
"Fly," he repeated, louder. "Fly better."
Thunder rolled faintly in the distance.
Sorashi shoved the toy onto the cloud again. And it slipped.
His breath hitched.
"Why do yu keep folling?" he complained, eyes stinging. "You sposed to go up."
Something shifted.
It was subtle—so subtle it might have been mistaken for a trick of the light.
The air above Sorashi's head stirred.
A soft hiss sounded, like breath escaping through fabric.
His hair—light and fine just moments before—lost its shape. The strands blurred, paling as if washed in moonlight, loosening into something softer, lighter.
Cloudlike.
Beneath the yellow Nimbus, something formed.
Not plastic or solid.
A puff of white gathered, dense and buoyant, curling instinctively under the toy—as if answering a command it had been waiting to hear.
Kakarot rose.
Sorashi's eyes widened.
The toy drifted forward, steady this time, lifted by an unseen force. It sailed across the carpet, past the edge of the blanket, past the coffee table—
Straight into the wall.
Thunk.
The figure bounced and fell, cloud clattering behind it.
The room went silent.
Sorashi stared.
Then—
"Mama!"
His voice cracked the stillness, sharp with excitement.
"Mama! Look! Kakarot fly!" He scrambled to his feet, pointing wildly. "He flied by hisself!"
His mother turned, and her breath hitched in surprise.
The dish towel slipped from her hands as she took in the sight—the toy on the floor, the faint remnants of mist dissipating into the air, the strange way Sorashi's hair still hadn't quite settled back into place.
— — END — —